It felt as if a red-hot steel needle had penetrated every inch of the bones, or as if it had been thrown into a boiler with burning oil. The meridians were tearing apart inch by inch, and the internal organs were burning.
In the chaos, whispers penetrated the ears intermittently.
"... Red Scale Powder is an ancient poison. There is no cure. The spiritual roots have been damaged and will wither completely within three days..."
"The sect master has ordered that Elder Mo will personally take action tomorrow to pull out his spiritual roots. He can still save his life..."
Red scale powder? Pull out the spiritual roots?
Su Qinghan's chaotic consciousness was suddenly awakened by these words.
This is not a dream, nor is it an illusion.
She struggled and struggled to open her eyelids, which weighed more than a thousand pounds.
What comes into view is an antique carved wooden bed with thin gauze hanging down. The air is filled with a strong and unfamiliar herbal smell.
