The Taoist River Map was indeed swift in repairing physical injuries, for by sunrise, the external wounds had largely healed, only the destroyed vital points were still being mended.
Jiang Shouzhong could distinctly sense the abundant resentment from the two little golden figures.
Having painstakingly opened those vital points only to have them destroyed, it was already quite impressive that they hadn't spiraled into rage right then and there.
Regarding this, Jiang Shouzhong could only silently express his apologies.
Dragging his still slightly aching body, he ate some breakfast at a street stall before heading to Zhang Yunwu's home.
Inside the house, Wen Zhaodi was tidying up the dishes on the table.
Every move she made exuded a unique charm of a married woman, as if perfected by thirty years of maturation, full of enchanting grace.
Watching the woman's graceful figure, Jiang Shouzhong's gaze turned obscure and unreadable.
