SPLAT!
It was as though a water-filled balloon had shattered.
Blood gushed forth.
Yet as the blood touched the blade, it quickly vanished without a trace, thoroughly absorbed by the blade. With the blood's nurturing, the gaps on the blade swiftly expanded and restored, as if time had reversed. Ultimately, a lavish golden pattern emerged on the bronze blade.
From a counterfeit antique on a roadside stall, it had transformed into a genuine work of art.
It looked so exquisitely crafted as if it were forged from life itself.
Ai Qing stepped back, ignoring the violent, thirsty howling from the blade, and indifferently pulled the knife from Crying Snake's throat. She flicked the blood off the blade and returned it to Huai Shi.
