Fresh blood splattered onto the autumn fragrance-colored golden python silk cushion, glaring and vivid.
Mu Lianxiao couldn't bother lying down; he quickly sat up, his eyes reddened as he gently patted Mrs. Zhou's back.
He had seen enough bloodshed, not just the enemy's; even the bloody wounds on his own body wouldn't make him frown. But this mouthful of blood from Mrs. Zhou seemed to carve out Mu Lianxiao's heart, liver, and lungs.
Du Yunluo called for Nanny Su.
Nanny Su came in, her face pale. Without asking much, she hurried out to find a doctor.
Du Yunluo poured a cup of hot tea, assisted Mrs. Zhou with rinsing her mouth, wiped the bloodstains from her lips, and helped her lie down.
Mrs. Zhou's eyes were misty and wide open. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but the words were stuck in her throat, burning, and she couldn't utter a single word.
Seeing Mrs. Zhou so agitated that she vomited blood, Du Yunluo felt distressed too.
She suddenly remembered the past.
