"A Sheng." Chen Qiusheng's voice was very faint, as if he had no strength to speak, "We can't stay here. Before dawn, hurry back to the place where you used to live and pretend you were hiding in the cellar all along."
"Master."
"Hurry back and take all the food left in the cellar."
"Master." Zhao Cheng'an grasped Chen Qiusheng's trembling hand, pressing it against Chen Ping'an's arm, "Ping'an isn't dead yet."
"I have to save him, I have to find medicine for him."
"But all the pharmacies are empty, what medicine can save him?"
Zhao Cheng'an held a candle in his left hand and Chen Qiusheng's hand in his right. The candle lit up his face very clearly, allowing Qin Huai to see that his expression showed neither panic nor sadness, only contemplation.
Thinking with utmost calmness and composure.
"Ping'an's wound is from a knife, what medicine can treat it?"
"Ping'an told me before."
