Han Qinglei sat cross-legged on the Eighth Nation's National Aura Mountain, face pale, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. He nervously produced medicinal pills, which he immediately consumed. Not only had his little excursion resulted in significant loss, he was now being chased by Meng Hao. However, in all of the Windswept Realm, there was no safer place for him to be than on this National Aura Mountain.
As he sat there cross-legged, his wounds slowly began to heal. At the same time, the four middle-aged cultivators from the Eighth Mountain and Sea remained outside of the mountain, both on guard, and at the same time, looking at each other in dismay. All of them were clearly shaken.
They knew Han Qinglei, and they had never encountered a member of the current generation who could outmatch him in this way.
Therefore... seeing Han Qinglei's injuries left them completely unnerved. After all, they were aware that he had previously headed toward the Ninth Nation.
