Everyone Wants to Pamper the Lucky Daughter Chapter 133 – Blood Separation Technique 1

Chapter 133: Chapter 134: Blood Separation Technique 1

“Blood Separation Technique?!”

The young man’s forehead was drenched in fine sweat and his breath almost held.

“If I’m not mistaken, the one who detoxified Xuan’er is your family ancestor.”

“He used his Spiritual Power to eliminate the poison from the five major internal organs and six hollow organs, but he had no power to separate the poison from the blood. He had no choice but to use a secret method, driving all

the poison to the lower half of the body, sealing off the meridians, preserving

life at the cost of disabling his legs.”

Su Qingluo asked with a faint smile, “Is what I said correct?”

The young man sincerely admitted, “Everything the girl said is completely consistent with my family ancestor’s treatment plan, without any error.”

“Now that you understand, you may leave.”

Su Qingluo’s smile was warm, the golden light in her brow flashed, a large amount of complicated and difficult-to-understand information shot into the young man’s forehead, flowing into his Sea of Consciousness.

“I have now imparted the Blood Separation Technique to you, you may comprehend it on your own. When you are able to practice it, come find me again. ”

“Thank you, girl, for your generous teaching. Brother Lan takes his leave and will come to trouble you again when he has mastered the technique.”

The young man’s thoughts were sharp, knowing that Su Qingluo’s imparting of the secret technique implied that she valued him. But just like she said, his current accomplishment is too modest, making him unqualified to practice her medical arts.

If that’s the case, he wouldn’t disturb her anymore. Someday, when his accomplishments are sufficient, he would reignite their connection.

Su Qingluo was very pleased with his discerning attitude. Holding the Little Prince’s soft little hand, she smiled and taught him the etiquette of bidding farewell: “Xuan’er, be good, say goodbye to Brother Lan.”

“Goodbye, Brother Lan.”

When the Little Prince heard that the young man was leaving, his big eyes sparkled. He called out in his babyish voice and happily nestled in his sister’s arms.

“Goodbye, Xuan’er, Brother Lan is very happy to see your smiling face.”

The young man’s mind was complicated. He wanted to ruffle the Little Prince’s little head, but thinking about his rejection, he awkwardly withdrew his hand.

“Brother Meng, see off our guest.”

The young man interrupted her abruptly, delaying too much time. Su Qingluo thought about the class in the afternoon, and let out a sigh.

“Coming.”

Wang Meng had been waiting outside the door. When he heard his little master calling him, he lifted the curtain and peeked inside with a grin.

“Farewell.”

The young man’s face turned red. Despite his teasing eyes, he respectfully bowed and sheepishly turned to leave.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you to the ferry.”

Wang Meng saw him come out, his eyes squinted into a line from his wide grin. The young man quickly declined, “No need to bother, Brother Lan knows the way.”

“You are our guest from afar, how could we let you walk alone?”

Wang Meng wanted to hear the details of their talk. He insisted, grabbing his arm and starting to walk.

“Hey, hey, slow down.”

The young man almost stumbled due to Wang Meng’s brute force.

“I’m going to watch the fun.”

The Little Kingfisher found a new amusement, her fidgety self fluttered out the window with her small wings, circling above their heads.

“Mom, it’s time for lunch, otherwise we’ll be late for school.”

Su Qingluo let the Little Kingfisher do as it pleased, opened the window, and whined with a tender voice.

“Alright, coming.”

Li Xiu’e responded loudly from the kitchen, and soon she brought over lunch, accompanying the two children for the meal.

During the afternoon break, Su Qingluo had Tian Qi and his fellow students practicing the horse stance while she practiced writing with her left hand in the classroom.

Her right hand writing was too different from ordinary people, and no matter how much she tried to conceal it, nobody would believe it came from the hand of an eight-year-old girl.

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Writing with her left hand required patience, the crooked lines perfectly concealing the handwriting, pretending to be a child’s scribble.

“Excuse me, can I speak with you?”

She was concentrating on her practice when a soft and weak girl’s voice suddenly sounded by her ear.

“Hmm?”

She raised her head in confusion, only to see a luxuriously dressed, delicate little girl..