Consciousness is growing weaker and weaker.
Just when she thought she was about to die, suddenly, Spencer Childe reached out again and pulled her out.
"Cough cough... cough cough..." Jasmine Yale spat out a mouthful of water, looking distressed and uncomfortable.
"Grandfather, let go, toss her into the river. I don't think she's going to reflect at all, she's still being stubborn even now!" Lana Fern incited.
She couldn't hold on any longer; the boat was shaking too violently!
Just as Spencer Childe was about to speak, suddenly—
"Bang!" A gunshot rang out, and a bullet shot towards the boat!
"Ah!" Lana Fern, closest to the bullet, jumped up, her face turning pale with fright, as she tightly covered her ears.
Spencer Childe immediately raised his head, with a cold sense of authority in his eyes.
Good, his beloved grandson had arrived.
"Grand-, Grandfather!" Lana Fern yelled, pointing at the boat approaching the riverbank, "Someone's coming!"
