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Song Qingshan did not fall asleep again.

Those two knocks on the door were like extremely light yet extremely heavy nails, hammering into the edge of his consciousness.

It's not noisy.

No rush either.

Not even the brutal oppression of the tea party.

But that's what makes it even more uncomfortable.

Enemies rage like knives.

The sound was like water.

Water will seep in through the smallest cracks, day after day, and eventually soften the stone.

Song Qingshan sat up cross-legged, the well seal between his brows feeling slightly warm.

He did not suppress it forcefully.

Strong pressure will only make the sound of the well bounce back more clearly.

He just used Xuanyin's soft energy to spread out the edge of his spiritual consciousness, and then used Zhiyang's true energy to set up a thin golden thread on the inner layer.

One yin and one yang, like a two-layered door.

The sound of the well lingered outside the door.

The third sound.

This time, there was a little more vagueness in the voice.

"Come..."

Song Qingshan slowly opened his eyes.

Sister Long's voice sounded in her heart.

"Don't respond."

Song Qingshan said: "I didn't respond."

"You just wanted to scold it."

"Does scolding count as a response?"

"For something like this, you just give it emotion and it remembers it better."

Song Qingshan was silent for a moment.

"Then I'll try to hate it calmly."

Sister Long: "..."

She couldn't tell for a moment whether he was being serious or talking nonsense.

Song Qingshan gathered his thoughts and suppressed the unhappiness that had just arisen.

The thing down there is not afraid of anger.

What it fears is ignorance.

At least for now, Song Qingshan must learn not to be led away by it.

There were footsteps outside the door.

Not Shen Bingxin.

Shen Bingxin walked more steadily, with the usual restraint of a doctor.

The steps hesitated for a moment, stopping at the door for a moment before knocking softly.

"Song Qingshan, are you awake?"

It's Jiang Mingzhu.

Song Qingshan looked out the window.

It was still dark.

"Come in."

Jiang Mingzhu opened the door and came in, holding a bowl of hot porridge in her hand.

There was still lingering fatigue on her face, and her eyes were red and bloodshot, and she obviously hadn't slept for long.

"Doctor Shen said you should have something to drink when you wake up."

Song Qingshan took the porridge.

"What about her?"

"Pharmacy."

Jiang Mingzhu sat on the chair next to her and rubbed her wrist.

"She looked at all the wounded and went to sort out the poisonous poison samples left from the tea party."

Song Qingshan frowned.

"She should rest too."

Jiang Mingzhu looked at him.

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