With one strike, the blood Qi-sharpened stone drilled right into the yellow weasel's eye socket, causing blood to splatter, the eyeball to burst, and flesh flew about in all directions.
And Qin Jiu kept smashing, incessantly, until the monster reverted to its original form and lay dead-heavy in his arms, still, he didn't stop. He kept hammering away for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, hollowing out half of the yellow weasel's skull, turning the flesh to a blur, smashing until Qin Jiu was utterly exhausted, his right hand numb and unable to lift, only then did he stop. Looking up at the sky, he gasped for air, his face covered in blood, the taste of rust filling his nostrils and the corners of his mouth.
Having been observing from the side, Li Fan, with hands behind his back, walked over to Qin Jiu and looked down at him,
