Elder Ge's needlework was both quick and precise.
All of Wei Zhao's organs seemed to be screaming, and he spat out blood again.
Elder Ge had no free hand to wipe it for him.
Wei Zhao couldn't even lift his hand, so he let the fresh blood flow down from the corner of his mouth, across his neck, and finally stain the pillow the Wei Family had brought out the door.
The glaring red color sharply contrasted his paper-white face.
He endured immense pain, and there was a thick, unfathomable emotion in his eyes. The veins on his forehead bulged, fragile and shattered.
Elder Ge felt particularly troubled at heart.
"Hold on, just hold on a bit longer."
Elder Ge couldn't help but complain, "If they had called me earlier, maybe you wouldn't have had to suffer this much."
"Luckily, the blood was let out, otherwise even a deity from heaven couldn't save you!"
Wei Zhao didn't respond to him.
