Fu Zhi rose to her feet and wiped the blood off the silver needle. She then looked at Wu Zhiheng, who was jumping and hopping around like a rabbit, with twinkling eyes, and said, "It seems like Young Master Wu's as fit as a fiddle. It took me only two silver needles and he's already woken up."
Wu Zhiheng froze. He turned his head around slowly and realized that everyone was looking at him dubiously.
"I… I wasn't lying. I was not feeling well just now…" He stammered. His face was ashen pale and he seemed like he was going to faint again.
However, the current situation did not permit him to do so.
"Not feeling well? Don't worry, Young Master Wu. I'm experienced in this kind of illness. Go ahead and faint a few more times."
'So that you can turn me into a porcupine?'
Wu Zhiheng's lips were trembling as he held Fu Zhi's gaze. He hemmed and hawed for a long while yet he did not say anything.
