Two solid months had slipped away, and Yang Wei remained unconscious.
Finally, after a prolonged dormancy, he blinked open his eyes to find bandages covering his body.
Some areas were badly burnt or slightly charred.
"What's going on?" he muttered, attempting to sit up abruptly, only to be met with a sharp pain, forcing him back onto the bed. "Ahhh, since when do I... feel pain."
Frustrated, Yang Wei conjured white energy in his palm. Placing it against his chest, it soothed his wounds and healed the bruises instantly.
Rising from the bed, he surveyed his surroundings.
"Hm?"
It wasn't Mu Lingxi's familiar abode; the room was more opulent and significantly larger. Glancing at his bandaged form, he recalled the tribulation clouds.
