"Since you all say so, let's give it a try, cough cough."
In order to heal his own wounds, Wanzhang Lion had spent a lot of effort, but each attempt had essentially only brought temporary joy; his patience and stamina had been eroded considerably by time. If it were a common potion, he estimated he wouldn't even spare it a glance.
Since Qian Xialan and Ming Dalak strongly recommended it, Wanzhang Lion decided to give it a try.
If it didn't work, it would just be another false hope, something he had already grown used to.
Ming Dalak spoke to Yang Yu, "Bring forth the potion."
With Ming Dalak's permission, Yang Yu slowly took out the pale golden potion and carefully entered Wanzhang Lion's bedroom.
Qian Xialan helped her father sit up. In Yang Yu's view, there appeared a gaunt, brown-haired man with a darkened forehead and deeply sunken eyes. The mane around his neck, now resembling a mop covered in yellow mud, lay dull upon his head.
