Fang Zhou turned his head and glanced at his wife, Wen Xiaoshu, who was busy in the kitchen, before turning back.
In front of him was a piece of A4 paper.
He put his right index finger into his mouth and bit down hard.
Blood dripped down from his lips.
Then the blood splattered onto the paper before him.
In an instant, the wound on Fang Zhou's finger healed completely, leaving no trace of injury.
"Done," Fang Zhou said, looking at the blood on the paper, his gaze fixed on the fluid as he spoke, "Dai Lin, watch closely now. Also, I need to be highly focused while using this technique, so if my wife or daughter comes by, cover this paper immediately. Don't let them be frightened by the blood."
"Okay, understood."
The blood quickly began to spread across the paper and soon after, it started to outline a drawing!
A table with six young boys and girls sitting around it, and a woman standing in front of the table.
