The weak cry out with all their might, yet no one cares; The strong whisper softly, yet their words penetrate deeply into the heart. A Talent Tree ablaze with flames, every leaf bearing different spirit runes, Lu Ye, reduced to a mining slave after his sect was destroyed, used this to become a cultivator and stirred the winds of change in the Nine Provinces...
Lu Ye had only been awake for a short while before he drifted off into a drowsy sleep again.
When he woke up again, he noticed an additional chair in front of him, and a young girl was sitting on it. She was nodding off, seemingly because she was too sleepy, her little head bobbing slightly.
The room was filled with a strong smell of blood and an indescribable scent of herbs.
Although he had been lying down for a long time, Lu Ye didn't feel stuffy, and even the burns on his chest weren't too painful. This struck him as strange, so he carefully checked and discovered that the bed board at his chest had been hollowed out intentionally. The person who had placed him there was clearly very thoughtful, taking his injuries into consideration.
He struggled to move his body, wanting to get up, but he didn't have much strength at the moment. After struggling a few times, not only could he not rise, but the effort made his forehead sweat from pain.