"Alright."
Zhang Jiajia reached out a hand and rolled up her sleeve. Her originally pale and clean arm now looked pallid, devoid of any hint of blood.
Li Wenxin placed his fingertip on Zhang Jiajia's pulse, closed his eyes for a moment, and indeed, just as Zhang Jiajia had said, her body was cold like a lifeless object, the pulse weak and scattered, clearly that of someone whose life is ebbing away.
Li Wenxin opened his eyes, shook his head, and said, "This is truly strange. Miss should be youthful and vigorous, her pulse should be strong and forceful, but now, judging by her pulse, she appears to be someone nearing the end of her life, about to die of old age!"
"Ah?" Zhang Jiajia's mother, Zhou Mei, opened her mouth in surprise.
"Master, please save Miss!" Zhang Guojian, upon hearing Li Wenxin's words, was so moved that he directly knelt in front of Li Wenxin.
