"Cough... COUGH COUGH!"
The disciple looked at Lin Qingfeng, then began to cough violently. Blood, mixed with fragments of his internal organs, gushed from the corner of his mouth as his life force rapidly faded.
Lin Qingfeng: "What are you looking at me for? Forget your lines? Spit them out! You won't get another chance in a minute!"
Only then did Zhan shudder and, with all his might, turn his head to look at Su Ling'er.
The previous shock and indignation in his eyes were gone, replaced only by a despair that came from having all hope hollowed out.
He reached a hand out toward Su Ling'er. It trembled violently in the air, as if trying to grasp something, yet unable to hold onto anything at all.
"Why... has it come to this..."
Every time he spoke, flecks of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, making his voice even hoarser and more broken.
"Lin Qingfeng, with methods like yours... I admit defeat..."