A Letter

The streak of gold rapidly disappeared as if it had never appeared. However, Yu Mo was certain that he wasn't mistaken.

His heart trembled, and he hurriedly looked down. "Master, you—"

Rong Xiu closed his eyes.

A moment later, he opened them again, and they had recovered their previous calm composure.

"Continue." Rong Xiu's thin lips lightly spat out that word.

Yu Mo took the gray bottle and evenly poured out the powder contents onto Rong Xiu's wound. The bitter medicinal taste then permeated throughout the air.

While Yu Mo was carefully bandaging Rong Xiu's wound, he was conflicted in his heart.

After he had treated Rong Xiu's wounds and was going to put away all those bottles, he finally couldn't help but say, "Master, y-you haven't gone back in a while… Do you want to take this chance to go back and recuperate?"

Rong Xiu looked calm and didn't say a word.