Those Three Sure Had Strong Lives

"Huh, there's actually still a trace of Heart Meridian left?" The middle-aged man exclaimed in surprise. He raised a hand and pushed aside the strands of hair that had dried and stuck to his face, revealing a bloodied visage. His lips had turned gray; at first glance, he looked like a corpse. "What a stubborn life!"

The middle-aged man looked at the pile of corpses.

Several days had passed since they fell.

Never mind how badly he was injured. Just the fact that he had lain in a pile of corpses for so long and still held on to a faint trace of Heart Meridian meant he was unquestionably a Literary Scholar. The middle-aged man checked his meridians, and sure enough, that was the case. But he did nothing more. Instead, he looked up at the old man and the young man before him and asked, "Should we save him? Or toss him back and pretend we never saw him?"

As the stories went, you shouldn't go around saving people of unknown origins.

The old man pondered for a moment, then made a quick calculation with his fingers. "They came because of Shao Bai, so there's a connection between them. If he can be saved, save him. If not, then that's simply his fate."

With his Heart Meridian reduced to a single faint thread, his injuries were naturally beyond the middle-aged man or the old man to treat. They would have to rely on Shao Bai.

Shao Bai lifted his hand and conjured a wooden staff sprouting little red flowers. Outside his fitted clothes, a resplendent ceremonial robe with intricate patterns appeared.

His robe fluttered despite the lack of wind. He formed a seal with both hands, causing the staff to hover in midair, while mysterious patterns and the Big