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The doctor, unable to work due to the commotion, tried to persuade Zhuo Feng.
"Miss, please calm down, we are doing our best to provide treatnt. Her condition has not reached the worst stage yet, and non-dical personnel cannot enter," the attending physician had checked Xiao Xian’s pupils and all other parts of her body. Aside from a fast heartbeat and pulse, everything else seed normal. A detailed assessnt would require imaging scans.
"That’s nonsense, then how co he was able to get in?" Zhuo Feng pointed at the door of the ergency center; she clearly saw a person who was not wearing a white coat enter just monts ago.
"Where is anyone?" The attending physician and the nurse turned their heads together, only to face a closed door to the ergency room.
"?!" The nurse hurried forward and pushed on the door.
The door was locked; the on-duty nurse ca with the keys, tried for a long ti, but the door still wouldn’t budge.
The dical staff on site looked at each other, wondering what was happening.
"Call soone to unlock the door, or get the fire departnt to pry it open! If Xiao Xian suffers any harm, I will sue you all," Zhuo Feng leaned on the ergency room door, banging on it forcefully. She truly did see soone enter.
Inside the ergency room, Zhou Ziang stood beside Xiao Xian.
"So that’s how it is, she’s also a Cultivator," he gazed at the pained expression on Xiao Xian’s face, his brows furrowed tightly.
She’s also a Cultivator, she must have ingested his Spiritual Power, unable to ta it, which led to the current spiritual energy backlash. Fortunately, he hadn’t left yet because he had to complete the discharge formalities. Otherwise...
There was no otherwise. Zhou Ziang placed his hand on Xiao Xian’s forehead, "Her Spiritual Power, if classified by the Yunteng system, reaches at most Copper Grade.
Quite reckless and audacious, daring to absorb Golden-grade Spiritual Power, it seems that she’s just a careless Cultivator who hasn’t even mastered the basic taboos of cultivation."
Zhou Ziang could only gauge Xiao Xian’s approximate level of cultivation; the special attributes of the garbage space, coupled with Zhou Ziang, who carried space himself, made it impossible to detect more.
The once cultivation failure Zhou Xiaoxian indeed had never touched the secrets of spatial cultivation, she and sugarcane seedling both didn’t know, absorbing higher-level spatial Spiritual Power beyond one’s own capacity is a dangerous matter.
"To save or not to save," Zhou Ziang was also in conflict. These few years, even though he had found family and friends, his spirit was always lonely; he never told anyone his secret. Even if he did, they wouldn’t believe him and would only think he was a madman.
To save her, he would have to release so of his limited Pure Elent Golden-grade Spiritual Power, transfer a part to Xiao Xian, to cleanse her of the Mutated spiritual power.
Such an act, like transfusing blood and marrow, would create an indescribable sense of understanding between the two.
What concerned Zhou Ziang was, he didn’t have much Pure Elent Golden-grade Spiritual Power left, and every bit he used diminished his own power. Without finding a matching type of Spiritual Power to replenish, he would have to fill it with Mutated spiritual power, making it even more difficult for Zhou Ziang to control his own space.
Ti ticked away second by second, Zhuo Feng’s wailing and banging outside the door disturbed Zhou Ziang’s peace, the door began to shake—apparently, the fire departnt had arrived to forcefully pry it open.
Zhou Ziang picked up Xiao Xian and suddenly jumped out of the ergency room’s window.
When the fire departnt pried the door open, there was no one on the ergency bed. Zhuo Feng’s world went dark, and she fainted.
Inside the space, Little White Jiao exclaid, "This person is so formidable, flying even more stylishly than . Hmm, I should learn that—no, I should get my little master to learn it."
Xiao Xian could feel the wind whistling fiercely beside her ears, was she on the back of Little White Jiao? It didn’t seem like it.
Squinting through her lashes, she could vaguely make out the clean-shaven contour of a jawline; looking further up, the setting sun shot directly into her eyes, blurring her vision.
Who is it? Xiao Xian stirred inwardly, asking softly.
There was no response; the wind drowned out her voice.
Beneath her surged the wind and clouds. Was she dead? Or had she transmigrated back?
If she had gone back, then what of Xiao Xian?
If the original Xiao Xian had died, her grandfather, aunt and uncle, as well as Xuerou and Yiyi would be heartbroken.
And... the man who was gently caressing the tip of her nose.
Yezi, who grew up with her.
She didn’t want to return to Yunteng; she wanted to stay in this world.
In a place that could offer her warmth.
Tears flowed down her cheeks, wetting Zhou Ziang’s chest.
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