The sky was filled with stars and the moon, the night was vast, and cold winds howled.
In a simply lit canteen, Tian Xinghuo lay on the table, his eyes tightly shut, face pale like gold paper, barely clinging to life. Blood occasionally seeped from the corners of his mouth, soaking the table surface.
A group of people were nearby, some sitting, some standing, with faces pale or pacing back and forth, all very nervous, yet no one dared to touch Tian Xinghuo.
Feng En Di nestled in his mother's arms, his voice quivering.
"Mom, is this brother going to die?"
Madam Feng quickly covered her son's mouth.
Feng Kaishan paced back and forth, occasionally peering through a hole in the wall to look at the sky outside.
He took out his phone and sent a voice message.
"This expert, Tian Xinghuo, looks in bad shape!
Please hasten the rescue!"
There was no reply from the phone.
