Liu Xinghe held Mingming, patiently pleading: "Please be merciful, my nephew is clearly not going to make it, I beg you to report this and let us meet your master!"
The man rolled his eyes: "Those who find their way here are in life-or-death situations; if I made exceptions every time, what would be the point of rules!"
"The master was dispensing medicine until dawn yesterday, and has been asleep for less than two hours. You should leave quickly!"
As he spoke, Mingming started convulsing again, frothing at the mouth.
His face turned cyanotic.
His whole body was trembling, his limbs icy cold, this was more severe than ever before.
Liu Xinghe's eyes reddened with anxiety, holding Mingming with one hand and clutching the hilt of his sword at his waist with the other.
Liu Mianmian knew he was about to lose his temper.
After a night of running around, hope was finally in sight, yet that door was firmly shut, with life and death at stake. Who could remain calm!
