"Qi Dou...?"
"That's right. Have you ever felt, when practicing martial arts, that it is you who are conforming to the martial arts, rather than the martial arts fitting you? If there were a martial art that naturally and perfectly suits you, wouldn't it allow you to maximize all your strengths and avoid all your weaknesses?"
"Think about it carefully when you return..." Zhang Rongfang said with a smile.
"Disciple... understands." Chang Yuqing appeared to have an epiphany.
"By the way." Suddenly, Zhang Rongfang moved in a flash, approaching her abruptly.
With a finger point.
His fingertip landed precisely on Chang Yuqing's brow.
A drop of blood seeped in, disappearing from the wound he had made.
But Zhang Rongfang did not stop, continuously forcing his own blood out, absorbing Chang Yuqing's blood, digesting it as nourishment, and then regenerating his own blood to replenish it.
Time slowly passed by.
