He pointed at the teacup in Ye Honglian's hand. "It's like the cup you're holding. It only takes a little tea to fill it. But if you switch to a big bowl or a large basin, you'll need a different amount of water."
"To put it simply, you need more spiritual energy now. Once you have enough, breaking through will come naturally."
This time, Ye Honglian understood.
She didn't argue, or even tease him. She simply answered, cradling the hot tea and lowering her head.
The firelight reflected on her face, revealing a rare hint of shyness.
She remembered the scar on her shoulder from where Old Devil had grabbed her in the Black Tower, a hideous, ghastly wound, as if she'd been mauled by a wild dog.
She remembered the countless old scars on her body. Some had been left by fights with other people; others by her battle with Old Devil in the Black Tower. She remembered every one of them clearly.
But now, she couldn't find a single scar anywhere on her body.
She was like a piece of fine jade.
She couldn't help reaching out to gently stroke her shoulder through her clothes. The smoothness left her dazed—truly, there was nothing there anymore.
She even felt an urge to grab Wang Xian and make him touch her smooth shoulder.
She'd shout, "Look! I don't have a single scar on me anymore!"
Of course, she didn't do that.
She merely took a sip of tea and said softly, "When I think about it, it's like I've been through a dream."
"This isn't a dream. It's real."
"You're right. I should thank you."
"No need. Just stop hunting me down and we'll call it even."
With just a few words, the two of them had killed the conversation.