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Liu Ruyan flitted among the wounded like a butterfly weaving through flowers.
She had not immediately joined the suddenly surging tide of the counterattack.
More than twenty paces away, Yan Nanfei lay on his side. Several claw wounds on his back ran deep enough to expose bone, their edges seeping bone-corroding black vapor as blood continued to ooze out.
Liu Ruyan held several slender needles between her fingertips, their surfaces shimmering with flowing water-blue and fiery-red light-the Origin Spirit Water-Fire Needles!
Their tips carried a mysterious rhythm of life and death as she precisely inserted them into the major acupoints and meridian junctions along Yan Nanfei's spine.
Where the needles landed, gentle watery halos and fierce fiery energy surged in alternation, forming the unique yin-yang cycle of the King of the Underworld's Thirteen Needles.
This was the fruit of the past few years' work, guided by Yin-Yang Theory.
The corrosive black energy, which clung like maggots to bone, was combed apart and dissolved as though by an invisible hand under the guiding force of this exquisite yin-yang cycle.
She took her portable needle pouch out of the Three Thousand Cloudwaters, pinched off a piece of dark-green salve, and gently, meticulously spread it over the cleansed wounds with her fingertips.
The medicinal power of the superior wound salve slowly seeped in, staunching the bleeding and fostering new flesh.
"...I'm not dead yet?" Yan Nanfei coughed up a mouthful of black blood flecked with ice. His eyelids struggled open, his voice weak but carrying a familiar rasp.
Liu Ruyan continued working without looking up. "Teacher Yan, are you hoping to die a glorious death? Your injuries are severe, but you won't die just yet. Catch your breath," she said gently.