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He did not understand why Gungun would suddenly ask for a drop of his Saint's blood, but...
"I thought you were going to ask for something serious. It's only Saint's blood. Here!" Remembering Gungun's seemingly genuine delight when he had appointed him deputy leader, Zhunti laughed readily.
Then he raised his arm, rolled up his sleeve, and lightly drew a finger across his skin. A few drops of Saint's blood immediately flowed out and flew toward Gungun.
"Saint, one drop is enough," Gungun said, looking up at Zhunti as the three drops floated before him.
"Hahaha! Refine the other two to aid your cultivation. You are the deputy leader of my Western Religion. I look forward to the day you become a Quasi-Saint." Zhunti lowered his arm and smiled at Gungun, then turned and strode away with effortless grace.
But the moment he turned his back on Gungun, an expression of heartbreaking pain appeared on his handsome face. My blood! It's precious!
Unaware that Zhunti's heart was bleeding, Gungun stood up, looked at the three drops of Sacred Blood before him, then at Zhunti's departing figure. He had to admit he was rather touched. At the same time, he realized even more clearly how outrageously wrong he had been before. He had actually thought the two Saints of the Western Lands were penniless wretches. How were they poor?
However poor they might be, the Saint's blood in their bodies was priceless. Besides, he had been eating to his heart's content in the Western Lands for so many days, yet neither had shown even the slightest reluctance. Clearly, the Western Lands' reserves far exceeded his imagination.
If things were already like this, then