It was evening.
Inside the Baji Sect, Lian Youming huddled beside the stove. He had changed his clothes, wolfed down two legs of lamb, and drunk half a pot of lamb soup. After regulating his breathing for a while, most of his bruises had already faded. Even Wu Jiu marveled at his astonishing powers of recovery.
When martial artists fought to the death, it was not always just their fighting skills that mattered. The exertion could be tremendous. If you could draw one more breath than your opponent, you could muster a little more strength and gain a little more chance of victory.
Considering the fierce battles still ahead, Wu Jiu arranged for Lian Youming and Xie Ruomei to stay at the sect, then turned and left the courtyard.
Xie Ruomei ate very little. Seeing Lian Youming's astonishing appetite, she kept putting meat into his bowl.
Watching the food keep piling up in his bowl, Lian Youming nearly wore his lips out talking, but no matter how many times he told her, the girl would not listen. He sighed inwardly at the sight. She probably had very few people close to her. Now that she had found one, she clung to him like a lifeline, wanting to bare her heart and give him everything.
Only when he put on a stern face did Xie Ruomei obediently start eating the meat herself.
"Your constitution is too weak. If you want to train, doing it without a solid foundation will drain your vitality. I don't know whether you'll master any skills that way, but you'll definitely shorten your life the more you practice."
Of course Xie Ruomei knew that, but given her current circumstances, it was hard for her to improve matters.
Seeing the girl lower her head in silence, looking dejected,