Inside the room.
The bloodstains on Lin Qingyi's shoulder were wiped away by Jiang Ning, revealing her jade-like skin and the clearly visible wound.
Jiang Ning glanced at it and placed his finger on the wound.
Immediately, he felt a slight prick as if his fingertips had touched the tip of a needle.
The wound pulled slightly, making Lin Qingyi's neck shrink, her long neck and prominent collarbone visible.
"Bear it!" Jiang Ning said.
As soon as the words fell.
Lin Qingyi's eyes subtly changed.
She knew her own body best.
At this moment, she could feel the sword intent lingering in the wound rapidly dissipating.
Transformation of intent with intent!
This thought flashed across her mind.
Realizing it, she felt even more incredulous.
Transforming intent with intent.
To reach this level requires a conception not lower than the opponent's to calmly dissolve it.
