"Now slowly channel the blood into that corpse," Zhong Niangyao's voice rang out. "Move slowly and silently recite your own name."
Long Haoguang nervously watched everything, holding even his breath for fear of disturbing Lian Chuqing and causing unbearable consequences.
Following Zhong Niangyao's instructions, Lian Chuqing gently placed her hand over the blood and slowly shifted it downward.
As Lian Chuqing moved, the corpse lying there, initially devoid of any color, now seemed as if dead wood had met spring. After the blood integrated into the body, the pale complexion gradually regained a bit of rosiness, and the dry lips also regained some gloss.
Once the blood was completely absorbed by the body, the corpse, no, now perhaps better referred to as a body, looked not like a dead body but like a woman in deep sleep, peaceful and serene.
Lian Chuqing stood still in front of the body, momentarily at a loss, for she didn't know what she could do next.
