Yang Wanqing sighed. "Yes, I'm worried it'll leave a scar, too. Do you have any scar cream recommendations?"
The chat began flooding with brand names.
Just then, Chen Hao came out of the study. Hearing Yang Wanqing's words, he walked over and took a look.
"Qingqing, you don't need to buy any medicine for this injury."
Yang Wanqing blinked. "Chen Hao, you have a way to treat it?"
Chen Hao nodded. "Sit still and put your leg on the table."
Yang Wanqing obediently rested her leg on the coffee table.
Chen Siyao quickly pointed the camera at them.
Chen Hao took out no medicine. He simply extended his hand and held it above the wound without touching it.
He closed his eyes and began to chant.
It was a strange language, its syllables ancient and obscure, like the wind in the mountains, like flowing water in a stream, like bells ringing from the distant past.
It was not loud, yet it had a penetrating quality, as though it went straight into their minds.
The livestream instantly fell silent.
[I Am Ying Zheng: What is that? An incantation?]
[Cherry Blossom Garden: What is Celestial Master Chen chanting? Such a strange sound.]
[Snow Blows at the East Gate: Why do I feel so calm listening to this?]
[The Wolf Is Coming: I've got goosebumps all over.]
Yang Wanqing was stunned, too.
She could feel a warm current flowing around the wound, as though an invisible hand were gently stroking it.
It did not hurt. On the contrary, it felt wonderful.
In less than a minute, Chen Hao withdrew his hand and opened his eyes.
The scrape on Yang Wanqing's leg healed rapidly before their very eyes! The redness gradually faded, the scab slowly fell away, and the new skin was fair and