Inside the giant tree hollow, tender green spirit grass grew, encircling Chu Zheng, growing in rings.
The damp, decaying aura was replaced by rich spiritual energy.
Nourished continuously by the majestic essence blood of the Cloud Wing Tiger, the exhausted origins of Chu Zheng and Xue Qing, depleted due to significant essence blood loss, were finally effectively replenished, like drought-stricken land meeting sweet rain.
The depleted energy and blood gradually filled, the pallor returned to a healthy complexion, and the persistent feeling of weakness within slowly receded like a retreating tide.
This recovery speed, to an average cultivator, already seemed astonishing, comparable to consuming a top-tier holy medicine.
However, Chu Zheng was dissatisfied with it. At the moment of complete replenishment, a subtle impatience flickered across his brow.
Too slow.
This long-term, cautious nurturing of injuries was unfamiliar to him, almost absurd.
