"That old Taoist really hits hard." Ye Qianning's gaze fell on the large lump bulging on his head, which looked like a mountain cannon. It was now covered in fresh, vivid scars.
They were from a horsetail whisk, with each strike cutting deep into his flesh. The wounds looked gory, but the seawater had soaked them white.
If any other fish had been injured this badly, it would have likely died long ago.
Cannon had a powerful regenerative constitution. As long as he wasn't sliced in half and his organs weren't damaged, any other wound could heal.
'It just hurts a little more than when you hit me,' Cannon thought, carefree as ever.
"Cannon, I'll never hit you again."
Ye Qianning felt a pang of regret for using the hard lump on Cannon's head to practice her skills. Ever since they had become good friends, she had switched to using the rocks on the coast for her training.
"What?" Upon hearing this, Cannon immediately thrashed his body.
