Lin Qingzhu took them, her fingers trembling slightly when they touched the white porcelain jar.
She recognized it.
On the Cloud Pavilion's inventory list, Marrow-Washing Spirit Salve cost six thousand spirit stones to produce per jar. In the past, the Cloud Pavilion had only been able to produce two jars a year.
Zhou Xuan had brought out three at once.
Together with the third-grade healing pills and Soul-Replenishing Liquid, this pile of supplies was worth enough to buy a medium-sized mineral vein.
Lin Qingzhu did not ask Zhou Xuan where he had gotten them.
She carried the supplies inside, opening bottles as she walked and distributing them according to the severity of each person's injuries.
Zhou Ye had been assigned the first camp bed against the wall. He took the Pills, but just as his hand reached his mouth, he lowered it again and looked at the junior disciple on the opposite bed, who had lost three fingers.
"Give it to him first."
"Shut up." Lin Qingzhu pressed the Pills back into Zhou Ye's hand. "Everyone gets one. You've lost an arm, so what are you yielding yours for?"
Zhou Ye opened his mouth but could not argue with her. He tipped his head back and swallowed the Pills.
Once the Pills entered his stomach, their medicinal power spread, warmth flowing from his dantian into his limbs. The stump of his severed arm twitched several times. He gritted his teeth without making a sound.
His arm would not grow back.
He had lost it half a year ago. Demonic qi had corroded the broken bone, and the tissue had long since died.
But the vital essence that had been steadily leaking from deep within the stump finally stabilized.
Zhou Ye let out a long breath.
On the bed beside him,