That's wishful thinking.

Ling Chuxi didn't say anything more and brought the pill furnace into the weapon refining room. As soon as the door was closed, the restriction reappeared, and outsiders would never be able to detect the situation inside.

"You ignorant brat, you actually dare to sneer at this old man, cough, cough." Zhan Tianhong said with resentment.

Although he had taken a spirit pill, it was impossible for his injuries to be completely healed in such a short time. In addition, he was so angry that he coughed heavily a few times.

"Martial uncle, why bother arguing with this kind of person? if he wants to die, then let him die." Zhan Xucheng said viciously as he patted his back.

Even her martial uncle, who was a late-stage mystique venerable one, was injured to this extent, yet Ling Chuxi still dared to put on a brave front. She would be considered lucky if she did not die from the explosion.