When Li Yao's soul returned to his shell at the bottom of the Gold Crystal Pyramid, he never felt more exhausted as if he just surfaced in an ocean from ten thousand meters deep.
The mental devil was right. Repairing someone else's brain remotely and repairing his own brain was completely different.
It was like the difference between heaving an object that weighed a kilogram and heaving an object of the same weight a thousand kilometers away through remote manipulation.
Li Yao hadn't entirely fixed Fang Gang 123's brain yet. The man had been through so many surgeries since childhood that his brain palace was shaking vulnerably, and Li Yao had to dedicate a hundred times more attention and spiritual energy to the recovery.
But it was a good start anyway.
At least, toward the end of the recovery, when Fang Gang 123 heard a jolly song, ripples of delight spread out of his soul, like the purest smile of a child.
