"Recovering forty percent is enough."
Xue Qinghe's face was still pale, but her breathing had steadied, and her voice had regained its usual composure.
Fang Han narrowed his eyes. "Is it really enough?"
"What member of the Demon Suppression Bureau doesn't know a secret healing art?"
Xue Qinghe chuckled and slowly rose, bracing herself against the stone table. She tucked her loose hair behind her ear and met Fang Han's puzzled gaze.
"You've only healed forty percent of my injuries, but you stopped my organs from failing. More importantly, you cleared my Twelve Primary Meridians!
"As long as my qi can keep circulating, my life isn't in danger. I can handle the rest myself. One night should be enough for me to recover completely..."
At that, she paused.
Xue Qinghe pressed a hand to her chest, lingering fear in her eyes.
"What nearly killed me was the initial wound. I was so badly injured that I couldn't catch my next breath!
"The creature's blood poison scattered my qi and threw it into chaos. I couldn't even circulate it to practice my arts. All I could do was cling to my last breath until I reached Azure Cloud City.
"If I'd been any later..."
She left the rest unsaid, but her meaning was clear.
Fang Han's interest stirred.
He wanted to ask what healing art the Demon Suppression Bureau possessed that could restore someone from grievous injuries overnight.
If he could learn it, he'd never have to fear getting hurt while roaming the martial world...
But he kept the question to himself.
He could ask Xue Qinghe when another chance arose.
"By the way, Fang Han, do you have a spare room?"
Xue Qinghe glanced down at her green robe. Soaked in demon blood, it had dried stiff and smelled foul.