After speaking, he said no more. Turning around, he sat cross-legged beside the blood pool, his withered hand lightly resting on its edge as his gaze remained fixed on Xiao Ling at the center, constantly watching the flow of the bloodline power.
The blood replacement process was far longer than imagined. That also meant Xiao Ling would have to endure the piercing agony for quite some time.
Within the silent hall, only the faint ripples occasionally rising from the blood pool could be heard. Time flew by amid torment, and in the blink of an eye, ten days had passed.
Throughout those ten days, Xiao Ling remained immersed in the scarlet blood pool, utterly motionless.
As the ordinary blood within him was completely stripped away, his once-straight body gradually withered. By now, he was nothing but skin and bones, his cheekbones sharply protruding, his face as pale as rice paper, even his lips drained of all color.
If not for the faint, weak rise and fall of his breath, anyone looking at that appearance would have thought him a lifeless corpse.
By the blood pool, Xun Er watched Xiao Ling's drastic change over the past ten days, feeling as though her heart were being repeatedly sliced by a dull blade, tightening painfully in her chest.
In the past, Xiao Ling had always appeared calm and upright before her, imposing and extraordinary. Even when trapped in danger, he could not hide his sharpness. When had he ever been so haggard and wretched?
Fortunately, their hearts were connected. She could vaguely sense the lingering will within him and even faintly touch the resilience with which he was forcing himself to endure. Knowing that he was still holding on became her only comfort, keeping her from completely losing her composure to worry.
Compared