PFFT!
He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest and a sweet taste in his mouth as he spat out a mouthful of black blood, stumbling back four or five steps.
Jin the Third said, stunned, "What's happening? What in the world is going on? Why? Why am I spitting up black blood?"
Wen Qingye calmly sat down on a nearby rock and said lightly, "Did you ever kill one of the Ten Thousand Fierce Poisonous Insects?"
Jin the Third nodded instinctively. "Yes, but that was fifty years ago."
"That explains it. You don't have long to live," Wen Qingye said, glancing coldly at Jin the Third.
Jin the Third was a formidable figure, but seeing the icy look in Wen Qingye's eyes made him shudder. When he recalled how everything Wen Qingye had just said was true, he found himself seventy or eighty percent convinced.
"Kid, you have a way to save me, don't you?" Jin the Third grew anxious. His eyes lit up as he looked at Wen Qingye, as if grasping at his last lifeline.
