There is an inherent sense of ease and nobility, a feeling of being accustomed to comfort and luxury.
And now, only a little over ten days have passed.
This old man's hair has turned completely white, like white ashes left behind after the flame has burned out. The wrinkles on his face have etched a few more lines each day; it seems as if he has aged over ten years in this half a month.
The strain on his mind and body is too immense.
A day passes like a year.
Wei Yiwen knows that his body is like oil scorching in a fiercely burning fire. The only reason he can still stand is because he is propped up by the great affairs of the world, holding onto one last breath, stuck in his chest, unwilling to let go!
Once these matters are resolved, even if the Daying Kingdom temporarily preserves its legacy and is not shattered by Emperor Qin, he doesn't have much life left. Perhaps a month at most, or a few days at least, he would breathe his last.
