Inside Spirit Hall's private treatment room, Qian Renxue slowly opened her eyes.
She lay on a stone bed covered with a soft white pad. Above her, a Soul Guidance Lamp cast a gentle glow, and a faint herbal fragrance hung in the air.
She looked down at her chest. The wound was gone, her skin as smooth as before, without even a trace of a scar.
Yet faint gold-and-purple arcs of electricity still wandered deep within her meridians, sending tingling sensations through her and reminding her of what had happened.
She pushed herself upright and leaned against the stone bed's backrest, her expression conflicted.
When that strike pierced her chest, she had clearly felt the instant that terrifying energy erupted inside her.
Gold-and-purple arcs spread through her meridians into every limb and bone. Every inch of muscle spasmed, every bone trembled.
She had thought she would die-or rather, she had prepared herself to die.
But those arcs had been withdrawn at the last moment.
They had only scorched the surface of her meridians, without damaging her organs or destroying the meridians around her heart.
That control, precise to the finest hair, was more terrifying than anything she had seen from any Titled Douluo.
Her injuries were not serious. They could even be called mere flesh wounds.
With her constitution and her Martial Soul's ability to heal itself, half a day's rest would restore her completely.
Huang Yun had held back.
Had he not, that strike would have pierced not merely her chest, but her heart.
She could not have stood up now. She could not even have survived.
He could easily have killed her, then told everyone it had been an accident during the match.
Spirit Hall would have found no evidence. No one could have proved he had done