Su Qinglan did not hold back. She poured everything into stabilizing the tiny life inside the female's womb, gently wrapping her warmth around the fragile foetus until the faint pulse of life steadied from a flicker to a soft but stable glow.
Then she moved her energy through the female's meridians, healing the internal injuries one by one, small tears, cold wounds, bruised bones, blocked breath. The chilling cold that had seeped into the female's bones slowly melted.
The female's skin, once pale as dying snow, slowly gained the faintest blush of life.
Her lips lost their blue tint.
Her breathing deepened, turning from fragile wisps to stable, soft exhales.
But still… she did not open her eyes.
Su Qinglan did not mind. She did not expect miracles in seconds. Healing this deeply required patience. She continued working, her energy flowing like a gentle flame, filling every cold, injured part of the female until she could no longer sense any immediate danger.
