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He could hardly wait to see what the saber would become once it was complete.
Catching the strange smile spreading over Li Fubo’s face, He Lingchuan quietly looked away.
Then he let another half kilogram of blood flow out of him. Just when he began to suspect the broken saber actually meant to drain him dry, the tiny pores on the hilt finally filled completely.
It’s finally full.
“Good, good.” Li Fubo exhaled in palpable relief. If a client died in the very first step of saber planting, it would stain both his name as a grandmaster artisan and the reputation of Songyang Mansion. “Hurry and stop the bleeding!”
The medicine ape slipped in and dressed the wound with practiced ease.
With its specially prepared salve, the cut on He Lingchuan’s arm stopped hurting within a dozen breaths.
He shook his head to clear the haze, feeling lightheaded, and quickly swallowed a replenishing pill.
An average body only holds four and a half to five kilograms of blood. Losing two tenths of that amount in one go was bound to leave one dizzy and weak.
The very last bead of blood on the hilt disappeared as well.
Anyone could see that the saber had had its fill. It no longer wanted to drink even a single drop of blood.
“What now?”
“Simple, stab the saber into...
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