The ninth year of Great Xia, January 15, at nightfall
On the third floor of the Martial Arts Pavilion's cultivation field, Xiang Liang, like the surrounding thousands of people, was sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed. The medicinal power and blood energy alternated around him, continuously opening his body's pores and penetrating into the flesh under the skin membrane.
His face was tightly knit, always bearing a look of pain. Clearly, the process of the medicinal power penetrating the skin membrane and destroying the flesh was not easy to endure.
Yet even so, he held on with clenched teeth.
In fact, among the nearly thousand people on the third floor, almost all those in the front rows had expressions almost identical to Xiang Liang's. Some people's facial expressions were even twisted, evidently enduring pain far greater than his.
