บท 55: Numbers

Feng Shen stood waist-deep in a river, the clear water shimmering under the moon as it caressed his skin.

His long, golden hair cascaded down his back, catching the gentle current as he ran his fingers through it.

The tranquil flow of the river wrapped around Feng Shen, its cool embrace soothing against his skin as he stood naked.

The steady current carried away the blood and gore that had clung to him, turning the crystal-clear stream into a faint red trail downstream.

Feng Shen's hands moved methodically, scrubbing away the remnants of everything.

Despite the mess he had been, he now appeared as if untouched by the carnage.

Feng Shen's body, lean and hardened, bore no signs of the wounds he had sustained—every cut, bruise, and gash had vanished, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin behind.

"It seems my forbidden bloodline has become stronger," he muttered, his voice low but filled with a quiet satisfaction.