Time flowed on, a white colt flashing past a crack in the wall. Before he knew it, Mo Chen had spent ten days recovering at the tavern run by the old man in the straw raincoat.
Nothing untoward happened during that time, and the Li Household's cultivators never came looking in the village.
Looks like old Chen really wasn't lying. He's genuinely powerful, too.
Mo Chen thought back over the past ten days.
Every night, several ringing sword notes had sounded outside the rear courtyard.
Could the old man be practicing his swordsmanship every night?
Mo Chen recalled seeing Chen Jin beside the Fuchun River.
Dressed in a straw raincoat, alone with a fishing rod and a creel, he seemed to have nothing but that bamboo rod to wield as a sword.
Looks like this old man must have made his name in the martial world with his sword, Mo Chen reasonably surmised.
Besides, ten days had passed now. Tomorrow, he could try getting out of bed and looking around the village for clues.
Throughout these ten days, Mo Chen had never stopped circulating the Flame-Drinking Art.
Although there was no spiritual energy here to replenish him, the art also had some body-tempering effects. Practicing it more might produce unexpected results.
The next day, following his usual routine, Mo Chen sat cross-legged and tried circulating the Flame-Drinking Art.
His dantian remained utterly empty. Mo Chen sighed softly and was about to give up when he suddenly sensed something unusual inside him.
A warm current flowed from his chest and spread through his limbs and bones.
It was the power of his blood and vitality.
Wherever the warmth passed, the excruciating pain in his meridians eased considerably.
Mo Chen's heart stirred.
It worked!
There was no spiritual energy here, but his