Yang Chen smiled kindly. "Miss Zhang's injuries are rather serious. I assume there's no way for you to recuperate on your own here."
At the mention of her injuries, Zhang Min's delicate body trembled. Her butt hit the ground as she sat down. Even now, her wounds still throbbed faintly, as though they might rip open at any moment.
But what frustrated her even more was that, at a time like this, Yang Chen was not thinking about how to escape. Instead, he seemed more interested in making light of her injuries.
Still, Yang Chen had saved her out of kindness, so Zhang Min could not be too repulsed. She sighed. "I've been in Jueming Valley for more than ten years. Unable to use my true qi, my injuries have only continued to worsen. Back then, Daoist Menghen's lackeys hunted me down. I was already at death's door, and when I fled into Jueming Valley, they believed I was doomed beyond doubt. Who would have thought that I would miraculously survive?"
"Oh? How did Miss Zhang manage that?" Yang Chen asked in surprise.
If things were as Zhang Min said, Daoist Menghen's lackeys could not possibly have let her go so easily. Unless they had been certain she would die, they would not have spared her merely because she escaped into Jueming Valley.
Zhang Min said gravely, "How could they know of my Zhang Lineage's secret arts? I truly was at death's door then. Even if they had not killed me, I would still have been doomed. But my Lineage possessed a unique secret art that sealed my wounds and kept me alive until now. Even transmitting my voice across such a great distance to call you for help relied on our Zhang Lineage's secret art."
"What did you say?