Ma Qianxiu lowered his head and glanced at his own body.
Then, a ruthless glint flashed through his eyes.
(I'll have to suffer a little.)
He clenched his fist and secretly struck himself in the abdomen.
Thud!
A dull impact sounded.
He had carefully controlled his strength, making sure the blow would cause him considerable discomfort without seriously injuring him.
His internal Qi briefly became disordered.
Ma Qianxiu's face paled slightly.
However, he wasn't satisfied yet.
He struck himself several more times in different places, deliberately leaving himself feeling weak and uncomfortable.
By the time he finished, his breathing had become uneven, and his face had lost much of its color.
He even deliberately disrupted the circulation of his Qi, making it difficult for him to maintain a steady aura.
To an outsider, he would appear to be suffering from a serious illness.
Only then did Ma Qianxiu stop.
He took several deep breaths before slowly walking toward Ma Lingfeng.
