Though it was a mere few hundred meters, carrying Mùróng Zhuó in my arms felt as long as a lifetime.
His body was heavier than before, as if the weight of his life was draining away bit by bit. My arms were long since numb with pain, and blood dripped from my fingertips, weaving a blindingly bright red line along the bluestone pavement. With every step I took, I could feel the body in my arms trembling slightly. His breathing grew lighter and lighter, so faint it seemed it might cut off at any moment.
The servants in the estate scrambled out of our way at the sight. A few timid maidservants even covered their mouths, watching in terror as we walked past drenched in blood. Gritting my teeth hard, my vision swimming with blackness, I dared not stop—fearing that if I stopped, I would never be able to walk again.
Chapter 215