"So hot!"
In his daze, Lian Youming felt as though he were inside a furnace, the heat leaving his mouth parched and his tongue dry. It was unbearably uncomfortable.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Tian Dayong standing beside him, almost in tears. "Nephew, you're finally awake. If you hadn't woken up soon, I couldn't have gone on living."
Lian Youming shifted his gaze and saw that Xu Tian had actually come too. Beside him stood a lean-faced, tall, thin middle-aged man in a blue-black Zhongshan Suit, his temples slightly graying and his eyes gleaming brightly.
"Water!"
He pursed his cracked lips and called out.
A little girl darted out from beside Tian Dayong, holding an enamel bowl filled to the brim with water, and brought it to his lips.
Xu Baishi.
Lian Youming struggled to prop himself up. Only after draining it in one go did he lie back down.
"Those people..."
"You should focus on recovering."
Before Xu Tian could answer, the middle-aged man picked up the conversation with interest.
Xu Tian checked Lian Youming's pulse as he said, "This is Gong Qitian, an elder of the Eight Trigrams Sect."
After the introduction, Xu Tian scolded him irritably. "You really have no brains. Your palm's Laogong Acupoint was breached, yet you still dared trade palm strikes. Now your heart meridians are damaged. You'll probably need a good six months or more to recover."
Lian Youming sighed inwardly. Everything had happened so suddenly that he had struck in desperation, forgetting the injury to his right palm.
"Did anyone else..."
Xu Tian said gravely, "You were hurt the worst. Three of those eight were killed on the spot. The other five escaped."
Lian Youming had just caught his breath when those words made him freeze. "Eight?"
Xu Tian explained,