The old Daoist can't make it?
Qin Liuxi's heart tightened, and she quickly stepped forward to see the old Daoist with his eyes closed, face as thin as gold paper, and a layer of deathly pallor on his face, looking as if he was taking in more breaths than he was letting out. His body was pierced with many silver needles, and there was a clear black palm print on his chest that was slightly sunken.
"Poisoned?" Qin Liuxi swiftly took out the Golden Needles from her Qiankun Bag, seized two long needles, and stabbed them into the vital life-and-death points. With her other hand, she removed the silver needles, feeling the old Daoist's body as cold as the winter snow outside. With a stern face, she said, "Is this the Ice Palm? Did you administer a Detoxification Pill?"
