The night wind still swirled outside the door, and the door panels trembled faintly beneath Chen Wuya's hand. He had barely taken one step when his chest suddenly felt clamped in iron pincers. A surge of heat exploded from deep within his ribs and shot straight up his throat.
He lowered his head and coughed. Dark red blood seeped through his fingers.
The bronze case in his arms was still hot, but it was not the source of this pain. He recognized the sensation—the effects of the Pulling Mechanism Powder had erupted ahead of time.
Bai Zhi was still outside in the courtyard, watching over the unconscious Mo Feng. Inside, only the foreign spy lying on the floor slowly opened his eyes. As his limbs stirred, the restraints of the bewildering formation had already loosened, and the fingers of his right hand quietly curled toward the curved saber at his waist.
Chen Wuya slid down the wall and sat on the floor, cold sweat rolling down his brow. He tried to circulate his power to suppress it, but the instant his true qi entered his meridians, the medicinal force scattered it apart. It felt as if someone were squeezing and releasing his five viscera one by one. He panted, the taste of blood rising in his throat.
A system screen abruptly flashed into view:
[Error Path Activated: Abnormal medicinal energy flow detected. Recommendation: guide it in reverse and circulate true qi backward using the incomplete Canglang Art!]
The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
If he could not suppress it head-on, then he would do it backward.
He released his control over his true qi, allowing the medicinal force to rampage through his body while forcibly reversing the circulation route of the Canglang Art. The force that should