"Brother Yan, Brother Qi!" Sikong Qinglan lunged forward in one stride and took out two elixirs for the two of them to take.
These elixirs were the ones Mu Hanyan had snatched from Long Wudang and the others last time, then divided among the priests of Huayu Temple. But aside from a few who were just one step away from breaking through their bottleneck and advancing in strength, no one else had been willing to use them. Now they finally came in handy.
After taking the elixirs, the two men's complexions looked much better. Sikong Qinglan relaxed a little, then turned his head to look at that young priest, anger written all over his face.
Yan Qingshan and Qi Ming were called guards, but they had grown up with Sikong Qinglan since childhood—partners, and more like brothers. Seeing them wounded like this, how could he not be furious?
