Black blood churned like a swamp. In the blink of an eye, it completely swallowed his entire arm.
At the same time, Pei Ling suddenly felt an immense surge of vitality and blood energy inexplicably flowing into his body. His cultivation began to rise rapidly. Before long, it had reached the peak of Foundation Establishment, but it still seemed a little short of restoring his Core Formation Realm cultivation.
Pei Ling's heart gave a slight jolt. He immediately understood: the system had accepted the offerings on the altar for him...
The palace lantern burned quietly, its dancing flames illuminating Xiao Shou's deathly pale face.
The bleeding from his severed arm had stopped at some point. Now, new flesh was growing back at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Before long, the wound, once a bloody mess, had become smooth and whole, as though he had been born without a left arm.
Thin wisps of smoke curled up from the incense burner.
The stick of incense Xiao Shou had lit suddenly began burning faster.
Sitting motionless inside the shrine, Pei Ling saw scene after scene from Xiao Zheng's memories appear before his eyes.
He saw himself as a swaddled infant, cradled in Xiao Shou's arms and carried into the ancestral hall, where he cluelessly kowtowed to the Faceless Great Immortal...
Then he saw himself as a very young child. His viewpoint was lower than it had been as an adult. He stood alone within the moon gate, watching Xiao Shou drag a beautiful, middle-aged woman toward the ancestral hall. Even after noticing Xiao Zheng, Xiao Shou didn't stop. He turned his head and barked, "Zheng'er, hurry up and follow!"
The woman saw Xiao Zheng too, but she didn't call out to her son for help. Instead, she struggled with all