The man spoke while looking at him, still coughing violently. He was clearly agitated.
Seeing the man's skeletal appearance, Tu Xiao'an worried that in his agitated state, a single coughing fit might be enough to kill him.
He was far too thin, practically skin and bones. His eye sockets were sunken, his skin was dry, and his arms were as thin as bamboo poles. His legs were out of sight, but when the wind blew, his somewhat narrow pant legs billowed out, vaguely revealing thighs that looked even thinner than wheat stalks.
He was more emaciated than a drug addict with years of abuse. The fact that he was still alive was a miracle.
"And you are?" Tu Xiao'an took a slight step back to put some distance between them. The way this guy was coughing, any harder and he might just hack up a lung.
"Master Tu, it's me, it's me! COUGH, COUGH, COUGH..."
