Mu Yingshan lowered his head and looked at Yuan Qingli lying on the cold ground, with rotten flesh and blood piled up beside her.
Her body was covered in obvious wounds, and her breathing was weak.
He's about to die.
Ugh, what a hassle.
Where are the mass graves in this world?
No, it seems to be called something like that...
crematorium?
...
Yuan Qingli thought she was dead. When she opened her eyes, she saw the sword immortal's delicate face, which was so beautiful that even women would be jealous.
However, it was colder than ten-thousand-year-old ice, even more suffocating.
Mu Yingshan leaned against the slightly damaged operating room door, holding his sword.
The boy on the operating table has also recovered. He can now turn over, get out of bed, and walk around. His wide-open chest is now covered by his surgical gown.
Huh?! It's back to normal?
Just as Yuan Qingli was about to exclaim in surprise, she felt a faint lotus flavor in her mouth.
"Sister, you're awake." The boy squatted down in front of Yuan Qingli, waving five fingers in front of her eyes. "How many is this?"
Yuan Qingli brushed his hand away, "I'm injured, not stupid."
The coldness at her fingertips startled Yuan Qingli.
She glanced at the pale-faced boy, who smiled brightly: "Thank you, sisters. My name is Meng Yu. This brother told me your name is Little Fairy?"
"Ahem, just call me Yuan Qingli. Let's continue discussing what's next!" Why do I always feel embarrassed when others call me "little fairy"?
Yuan Qingli examined her entire body and surprisingly felt little pain, even though she clearly remembered being seriously injured before losing consciousness. She glanced at the sword immortal with a puzzled look.
"Your death will do me no good."
Thinking of the lotus taste in her mouth, Yuan Qingli asked in confusion, "What did you give me to eat?"
"The Lotus Clear Pill, which is two hundred years old."
"What? Lianhua Qingwen capsules? And they're two hundred years old?"
"There's another one that's five hundred years old, but it's not worth your time," the sword immortal said calmly.
"..."
Is this about the expiration date? It's not like I'm drinking Moutai, which is two hundred years past its expiration date. What if I get poisoned?
However, it seems that this expired medicine is still effective.
Yuan Qingli couldn't help but think of the sought-after items in the pharmacy. The Lotus Cleansing Pill from the Sword Immortal, a cultivation-grade one, should fetch a good price. She'd ask around to see if they still had any.
Discarding those strange thoughts, Yuan Qingli looked solemn.
“Let’s use the operating room as our base for now,” Yuan Qingli said thoughtfully. “That masked man will probably send more monsters to capture us. I don’t know why they haven’t come yet.”
Regardless, they still have to return to the world outside the mirror.
So Yuan Qingli decided: "We still need to go back to the 13th floor."
A hint of surprise flashed in Mu Yingshan's eyes, and he looked at Yuan Qingli with an extremely strange expression: "You're not a single part of your body that's in good condition, and you still want to go back? You'll die."
"This is a deal between me and the long-tongued ghost. If we can't find the clues, we can't complete it. If we can't finish the game, we'll die anyway." Yuan Qingli was very open-minded about this.
Mu Yingshan hadn't forgotten how this woman had coldly and calmly uttered the words, "I can destroy any prop that possesses a rebellious nature."
It was probably because Mu Yingshan's gaze was too direct.
Yuan Qingli shrugged: "Don't think that just because this world has unleashed your power, you'll refuse to leave."
However, because the movement was too large, she grimaced in pain.
Mu Yingshan was disgusted, snorted coldly, and didn't reply.
He had just released some of his divine sense into the building and indeed did not sense any monster's presence.
So it's safe to go upstairs right now.
Yuan Qingli rearranged herself and tucked the axe into her waistband.
"My body is indeed ruined. But I still have to face what I have to face. Anyway, thank you for the medicine."
The sound stopped abruptly. Yuan Qingli walked up to Mu Yingshan, her bloodstained hand brushing past his side before pressing lightly against the door with one hand.
Meng Yu, a bystander, blinked: Is this the door-slamming scene from a TV drama?
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