Wu Tongwei entered the room and bellowed, "Everyone, spread out!"
As he shouted, those nearby looked back and recognized Wu Tongwei, all dispersing quickly.
"Lord Wu, you've arrived."
An elderly man approached, his robes lavish but his face etched with fatigue.
"Liu Xun, how's your son doing?"
He bowed his head and sighed deeply. "The situation's dire; he's unlikely to survive."
"What a pity, another son dead. I fear my lineage is at its end," he said, sighing loudly.
Wu Tongwei patted his shoulder, then walked forward.
Reaching the window, he gazed at the young man lying on the bed.
Liu Xu's complexion was ashen, his lips pale as wax.
Completely limp yet not yet stiffened.
He felt for the pulse.
After a long while, he was barely able to discern any.
"Faint, but... there seems to be a pulse, he's not dead!"
"There may still be a chance."
"We can save him!"
"Definitely save him!"
