Seeing Dean Wu's grief-stricken expression, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words, Han Ning shook his head.
"Dean... let's not dwell on that for now. Have the others clean up the battlefield. We've administered first aid to the wounded, but they need more thorough medical attention."
Dean Wu nodded and immediately assigned all remaining personnel to clear the battlefield.
"What about the new group of foreigners? Didn't you bring them along?" Teacher Zhou, who had regained consciousness, asked as he looked at the familiar faces before him, coughing heavily.
"Xiaozhou, your face... what happened?"
The moment Dean Wu saw Teacher Zhou, a look of profound disbelief spread across his weather-beaten face.
He'd only been out of sight for a few hours, yet the young man had somehow aged to look even older than the dean himself.
