"Your hand!"
To Fu Qian's surprise, a simple movement from him made Veil cry out in alarm.
She stared at Fu Qian's right hand. Blood was still visibly seeping from the gaping wound that went straight through it.
To Veil, it was utterly incomprehensible.
She had no idea how he had trained, but in her eyes, this mysterious figure was at least a Tier Four powerhouse.
She could hardly imagine there being anything in the town capable of injuring him.
And transcendent beings usually recovered extremely quickly. Even if a wound in a nonvital area didn't heal completely right away, it shouldn't keep bleeding.
How could this be?
Veil covered her mouth, instinctively sensing danger.
"Are... you all right?"
She asked cautiously.
"Never better!"
Fu Qian replied casually without even looking up.
He meant it. The mission had made progress, and dinner had been right to his liking. He was genuinely in a good mood.
As for the wound on his hand, he had no intention of explaining it.
But Veil heard something else in Fu Qian's carefree tone.
Was he satisfied with this outcome?
Was merely getting his hand injured already a pretty good result?
What exactly was he dealing with?
Veil was suddenly filled with worry, unsure whether she should take her sister and leave.
Early the next morning, as a knock sounded at the door, Fu Qian climbed out of bed, refreshed.
He glanced at the wound on his hand. It had healed completely, without a trace.
That was already quite slow.
Normally, an injury this minor would be gone in the time it took him to yawn.
That strange hollow state had greatly weakened his ability to heal.
At the same time, Fu Qian heard Veil tossing and turning upstairs.
Clearly, she'd spent another sleepless