"Damn it, where the hell have we run to?"
Lian Youming stared dumbfounded at the snowflakes drifting overhead.
It was the middle of July, the hottest days of summer, yet it was snowing. What the hell?
Yang Shuang said weakly, "We left the Greater Khingan Mountains earlier. We should be on the Hulunbuir Grassland now."
"No wonder. We've run all the way to Inner Mongolia."
Carrying the badly wounded woman on his back, Lian Youming had run without stopping, head down, for who knew how many miles. Only after leaving the snowfall behind did he sit down beside a few withered trees.
He set Yang Shuang down and took out the medicine Yan Lingyun had prepared. There were two bottles in all, one for external application and one to be taken orally. He chewed two pills himself first and recovered some strength before carefully examining Yang Shuang's injuries.
Yang Shuang put the pills into her mouth and sat cross-legged on the spot. Regulating her breathing, she said softly, "I took an Iron Sand Palm strike to the back. It injured my Governing Vessel and obstructed my blood and qi. Help me disperse the Dark Jin."
Their situation was urgent now. They had virtually no choice and no way back. They could only recover as quickly as possible.
Lian Youming murmured assent and moved behind Yang Shuang, only then noticing the many tears in her clothes.
High on Yang Shuang's back, above the band of white cloth binding her chest, he gently lifted a torn flap with one finger. A livid palm print immediately came into view.
In an instant, Lian Youming thought of the blue-robed old man's hands.
The palm print ran diagonally across Yang Shuang's back. The outlines of all five fingers and the heel of the palm looked