That person jumped in shock, immediately stiffened and didn't move, staring at Baili An with wide eyes: "What are you doing?"
Qi Liancheng supported Ying Xiu, whose body had withered, half-sitting on the ground. The smile that had always hung on his face was completely gone, turning dark. He quickly bit his wrist, smearing the fresh blood on Ying Xiu's forehead, chest, and Dantian.
Blood flowed profusely, landing on Ying Xiu's dry and cracked skin without any waste, like dew finally coming to a long-barren land, greedily absorbed into his body.
As Qi Liancheng's face gradually paled, Ying Xiu's body began to heal and recover bit by bit, with his cracked skin slowly merging back together. After a while, except for the faintly yellow skin tone making him look less like a living person and more like a paper mache man, his appearance was not as terrifying as it was moments ago.
Ying Xiu finally took a breath, lying on the ground, still in shock, his face ashen!
