Alchemy Medicine Institute, a sickroom.
Dawn had barely broken. The soft rustling of leaves in the autumn breeze echoed outside the window, and a faint scent of osmanthus drifted to his nose.
Rustle, rustle~
As his consciousness stirred awake, an indescribable sense of exhaustion washed through him, inside and out.
It felt as though he had endured seven days and nights of hellish training at ten times his usual intensity, with ten Ghost Wives transformed into essence-draining succubi beside him, sucking away his yang energy as he trained...
"Fuck..."
His vital energy had been squeezed so dry that even his brain had become unusually sluggish. Only after concentrating for a long while did he muster all his strength to lift his thousand-pound eyelids. A painted ceiling greeted him, depicting a scene of birdsong and fragrant flowers, perhaps intended to cheer the patients up.
Xie Jinhuan tried to raise a hand to rub his forehead, only to discover that his entire body was bound with thumb-thick hemp rope. Looking down, he realized he was lying on a specially made hospital bed, trussed up like a caterpillar from head to toe...
Huh? I rendered distinguished service. Why tie me up?
Could I have groped too hard in my haze last night and angered the girl with glasses...?
Unable to break free, Xie Jinhuan could only glance around.
The sickroom was not large, but it was spotless and simply furnished. Aside from the bed, there was only a table beside it, holding the Zhenglun Sword and the recovered Heavenly Gang Mace.
Linghu Qingmo, who had changed back into a snow-white dress, sat on a round stool. Perhaps exhausted from staying up all night at his bedside, he had fallen asleep with both arms resting on the table. His cheek faced Xie Jinhuan, revealing