The healer arrived quickly. After a few leaps through the ruins, she landed steadily beside Lan Jingqi.
She was a young woman with delicate features, though her brows carried a maturity beyond her years. Yet whenever she arched them, a trace of mischief slipped through.
Her robes were stained with dust and blood; she had clearly hurried here from another battlefield. The medicine chest at her waist hung heavily, its surface carved with intricate spirit patterns. The moment she stopped, she crouched down and looked at Lan Jingqi's right arm, drawing in a sharp breath.
"Whoa..." Her voice held exaggerated amazement. Her fingertips hovered half an inch above the wound, not daring to touch it. "This arm... it's practically melted away."
She swiftly swept her spiritual power over Lan Jingqi's body—beneath his robes, wounds crisscrossed everywhere. Some had scabbed over, some were still seeping blood, and some had been corroded black and purple by demonic qi. In places, his skin had even stuck to his clothing.
"You've got plenty of wounds elsewhere too." As she spoke, she deftly opened her medicine chest. The brass clasp gave a crisp click, and her fingers darted between bottle after bottle. "Looking at this, you won't be better anytime soon."
"Less nonsense." Lan Jingqi rolled his eyes, his movements carrying restrained impatience. Fine sweat beaded at his temples from the pain. "Treat me while I still have the strength to circulate spiritual power."
His voice sank further. "And—if you use the word 'cultivate' again, get back to Spirit Artifact Peak and hammer away at your forge. Stop practicing medicine."
The healer's fingers stiffened sharply. She raised her head to meet Lan Jingqi's expressionless eyes, then quickly stuck out her tongue—a silent protest, yet also an obedient surrender.
"Fine, fine, fine..." She nodded repeatedly, though