"Bullshit! How can you grow new flesh when it's all frostbitten? You think your flesh is like hair, growing back on command?"
Zheng Xiu snapped. But just as the words left his mouth, his gaze fell to where Ruchen was pointing, and he was instantly stunned!
On the gruesome wounds on Ruchen's calves, which looked as if they'd been smashed by a blunt object, slivers of blood-red, new flesh were visibly creeping over the bruised, purple areas. If Ruchen hadn't pointed it out, Zheng Xiu would have thought his legs were rotting and infested with maggots.
As Zheng Xiu stared in astonishment, Ruchen sheepishly rubbed his head and began to explain how his legs were growing back.
He had carried Zheng Xiu on his back, climbing for thirteen days and nights. His boots had been worn through by the rugged mountain path, so he simply continued climbing barefoot.
By the eighth day, his feet were mangled beyond recognition, ruined by frostbite.
