The patient was very sensitive to the cold.
He was bundled up in thick clothes, even in the hospital room.
But that wasn't the crucial part. The crucial part was...
When Li Xu drew closer and got a good look, his heart leaped into his throat.
The child's face... it was as shriveled as a skull.
His eye sockets were sunken, his cheekbones jutted out, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.
It seemed there wasn't an ounce of flesh on his face. The skin was stretched taut over his bones, a terrifying living skeleton.
His entire face was devoid of color, as pale as a sheet of paper.
The phrase "skin and bones" wasn't even close to describing the little boy's condition.
It was a sense of life itself withering away.
Even more bizarrely, his skin, which should have been fair and soft, now had a dark, sallow-brown hue, like a withered leaf scorched by an autumn frost.
Mixed in with the dark color were patches of desiccated yellow, exuding a heavy aura of death.
