Shen Luo stared at the unharmed Nie Caizhu before him, his mouth falling slightly open.
Nie Caizhu's internal organs had suffered severe damage. Even after taking a healing Milk Spirit Pill, she should have needed a long time to recover. Her Magic Power had also been reduced to less than thirty percent; even with the finest restorative pill, it should have taken at least half an hour to recover. Yet a single talisman had healed everything in the blink of an eye?
"This is Mount Putuo's secret art, Willow Dew. It can rapidly heal injuries and restore Magic Power. However, the technique is too profound for me to use yet, so my master sealed it inside this talisman for me to carry as protection..." Seeing Shen Luo's astonished expression, Nie Caizhu explained.
Shen Luo nodded, then glanced at Bai Xiaotian, who was sitting cross-legged nearby and circulating his energy. He secretly sighed that Huasheng Temple and Mount Putuo truly deserved their reputations as ancient, great sects. The secret arts they possessed were incomprehensible and no less impressive than those of Fangcun Mountain.
When he had encountered Wu Ming earlier, he had easily driven him away, and had thus developed a slight disdain for Mount Putuo. Now, it seemed that the foundations of these great sects that had endured for tens of thousands of years were indeed profound.
"This is the Purple Bamboo Grove! How did you end up here?" Only then did Nie Caizhu notice their surroundings. She cried out in alarm, her expression filled with anxiety.
"Your injuries were severe, and you needed somewhere quiet to recover. The Demon Race was invading all over Mount Putuo, so I brought you here. Is there something wrong with this place?" Shen Luo asked.
"I once heard elders of my sect say