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The Azure Dragon beside him trembled and quickly supported him, saying with concern, "My lord, if there is anything you need me to do, please rest. You are weak and should take care of yourself!"
Previously, his lord had been in a frenzy, but now he couldn't even get out of bed. If this continued, he feared that... He didn't dare to think further, but he hoped for a miracle.
"Where is Mo Xi'er?" Not seeing her for a day filled him with an inexplicable sense of unease, a panic as if he were about to lose her.
His tan skin had lost its usual gloominess, now more covered by pallor. His gaze was no longer sharp but vacant. He struggled to lean against the bed and spoke calmly.
"I haven't seen her today; it seems she is with Zhuque," the Azure Dragon replied after a moment of thought.
"I..." Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly coughed up blood, staining the white sheets with a shocking red.
The Azure Dragon gasped. The blood he had just coughed up was bright red, but this time it was black. How could it change so quickly? Could it be that the poison in his lord had worsened?
Before the Azure Dragon could react, the man lay back down, his eyes closed. His face was devoid of color, completely pale, leaving the Azure Dragon stunned into silence.
In an instant, he snapped back to reality and hurriedly lifted the seemingly lifeless man, calling out in panic, "My lord?"
However, his call received no response; the man remained with his eyes tightly shut. Fear surged within him as he shouted, "My lord, wake up! Please wake up!"
"Doctor... Doctor, come quickly!" A stream of cold tears fell down his cheeks. In that moment, this strong and resolute man resembled a boy who had lost a loved one, weeping uncontrollably.
His heart-wrenching cries received no response from the sleeping man. Anxiety and pain spread throughout his body.
Two figures rushed in from outside, their faces anxious and voices urgent: "What happened? What’s wrong with the lord?"
"He’s... dead... dead," the Azure Dragon said blankly, staring intently at the colorless man before him. He spoke to the two figures who had entered with a lost expression.
Why? Why does fate treat the master this way? What did he do wrong? He is such a good person, having saved him from the beggar's den while being chased. He hasn't even had the chance to repay the master's kindness; why has it come to this?
"What?" The White Tiger stared incredulously at the helpless man, frantically saying, "Impossible, you must be lying to me... you are definitely lying..."
How could the master be dead? Just a moment ago, everything was fine; how could he suddenly die? This must be a joke from heaven.
The man in black looked on in shock at the sudden turn of events, his cold eyes losing their focus as he stared blankly at the man on the bed, unable to utter a single word.
He tried to keep himself calm; he couldn't believe this was real. With heavy feet, he walked toward the bedside, trembling fingers reaching for the unmoving man's nose, but he felt no breath at all.
His body suddenly jolted. He... really died? Just like that? Tears filled his icy eyes. This iron-willed man had shed so much blood and sweat, yet at this moment, for the man lying on the bed, he shed his first tear.
Before he could speak, his still-outstretched finger suddenly felt a weak warmth brushing against it. Startled, he straightened up instantly and looked in surprise at the still-closed eyes of the man. His hands quickly retracted and then tentatively placed his finger back on the man's nose.
Suddenly, a cry rang out: "The master isn't dead; he's not dead..."
Hearing his words, the two dazed individuals abruptly looked up at him in confusion. The Azure Dragon then reached out his hand and uncertainly probed the man's nostrils again, exclaiming in shock, "There is still breath! Really, there is! Although it's very weak, I can feel it."
"Quickly, where is the doctor? Why hasn't he arrived yet?" The man in black suddenly shouted as if seeing hope.
The White Tiger jumped up from the ground and angrily said, "I'll go get him."
At that moment, he completely lost his usual calm demeanor. All he knew was that he couldn't let the master die, even if it cost him his own life.
In a flash, he reached the wooden door. Just as one foot stepped outside, a woman's figure appeared at the entrance. Seeing his expression, she asked in confusion, "White Tiger, where are you going?"
Seeing her calmed his anxious heart suddenly. He replied in a deep voice, "I'm going to find the doctor."
The woman understood the reason behind his words and slowly replied, "There's no need for that; I have already obtained the antidote."
She truly could not commend the doctor's medical skills. The poison in her master’s body had been present for such a long time, and he had not even detected its onset. Even if they called him over, it would be of no help.
If it weren't for Miss Mo, her master might not have survived. Just thinking of Miss Mo brought a flicker of unusual emotion to Zhuque's eyes, which quickly vanished.
Baihu looked at Zhuque in shock. "Really?"
Could this be considered a sign that her master was not meant to perish? Just when things were at their most critical, the antidote arrived, surely a blessing from heaven due to her master's kind heart.
Although he usually appeared cold and indifferent, only they knew that beneath his icy exterior lay a soft heart. He never harmed others without reason unless his bottom line was crossed.
Zhuque glared angrily. "What would I gain by lying to you? Do you think I would joke about my master's life?"
After saying this, she ignored Baihu and walked straight into the room. However, upon entering, she was stunned by the scene before her: the proud and imperious man lay motionless on the bed, devoid of any color in his face.
Her heart sank, and she hurriedly said to Qinglong, who was supporting him, "Quickly lay him flat and give him the antidote."
Saying this, she forcefully placed the pill into Night Star's mouth, but he could not swallow it. In a moment of panic, Zhuque anxiously addressed the others around her, "He can't swallow the antidote; what should we do?"
If he could not take the antidote, all their efforts would be in vain. The thought filled her with dread!
It was Baihu who first calmed down. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Let's channel our true energy into him so that he can swallow it smoothly."
Qinglong immediately helped Night Star sit up and then angrily urged, "What are we waiting for? Hurry up!"
Night Star was deeply poisoned and currently in an extreme unconscious state. The four of them worked together: two lifted him while the other two transferred their true energy into him.
When they were all drenched in sweat, they suddenly stopped, and at the same time, both Qinglong and the man in black spat out a mouthful of fresh blood. Zhuque exclaimed, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Qinglong said in a deep voice.
The master's internal energy was too strong, and due to the poison, their internal qi was constantly reversing. Even as two Martial Arts Masters, they were almost overwhelmed by the reversed qi within Night Star.
Taking a deep breath, the man in black said solemnly, "The antidote has finally been swallowed; now we can only hope the master wakes up soon."
That night, the sky was pitch black. Countless stars dotted the gloomy black curtain above, shining endlessly. Inside a room, a woman lay quietly on the bed, her delicate face devoid of color.
Willow Brows relaxed, her eyes tightly closed. Yin Tao's small mouth was cracked like several grotesque worms. She had a long dream, dreaming of her past life and this life.
Before her was a vast expanse of white; images kept flipping through her mind. Her pale face was drenched in sweat as if she had gone through a fierce battle, fighting to the death.
Suddenly, she saw Night Star lying motionless like a corpse in her arms. No matter how desperately she called out, she could not wake the man who was deep in slumber.
Panic surged within her as if she had gone mad, and she let out a loud scream: "Ah!!!"
Her tightly shut eyes suddenly opened wide, and what greeted her was a bright light. Her clothes were soaked with sweat, and her gaze turned to the man sitting beside her bed with a worried expression: "Xingchen."
Just two words felt like they drained all her strength. Instantly, she felt weak and began to fall back. Before her body could touch the cold hard floor, it was caught by gentle hands.
His voice carried anxiety: "Mo Xi'er, how are you?"
His heavy voice mixed with worry and heartache created a complex blend of emotions. He didn't know what he felt at that moment; he only knew that when he saw this woman risking her life to protect him, he was deeply shaken.
What kind of feeling was that? He couldn't articulate it or explain it. He had always thought there would be no one willing to sacrifice their life for him in this world, but Mo Xi'er completely overturned that belief.
When he woke up, the first thing he realized upon opening his eyes was that Mo Xi'er was unconscious, and he was filled with rage.
"I feel so weak..." Lying in the man's embrace, the panic from her dreams vanished, leaving only a sense of security.
Only with this feeling did she think everything she had done was worth it.
Before she could finish her sentence, her words were silenced by warm lips, catching her off guard. Night Star's kiss was intense and possessive, as if he wanted to swallow her whole.
Mo Xi'er widened her eyes and blinked repeatedly. When she caught sight of a few people in the room out of the corner of her eye, her face flushed crimson, stopping his fervent kiss. She shyly said, "Hey, there are people here."
Due to her weakness, her voice was very soft but carried a hint of allure.
Upon hearing Mo Xi'er say this, Qinglong was the first to jump out and say, "Miss Mo, you have been unconscious for seven days. You scared the master. Every day the kitchen has prepared soup and porridge for you to drink when you wake up."
Previously, he had felt a slight distance or even dislike towards this woman, but now he held immense respect for her. When he learned from Zhuque that she had used her own blood to create the antidote, he was deeply shocked.
What kind of love would lead someone to such reckless thoughts? He knew how difficult it was to concoct that antidote; Mo Xi'er had used half a bowl of blood—half a bowl! How could such a fragile woman endure that?
Mo Xi'er suspiciously forgot about Qinglong and wondered why his attitude towards her had changed today. It hadn't been like this before. Looking at the others, they all wore strange expressions towards her. She couldn't help but touch her cheek, wondering if there was something dirty on her face.
Before she could think further, a voice filled with tears rushed to her ears: "Miss, you finally woke up! I was so worried about you; I thought..."
But the rest of the words could not be spoken no matter what. She could only stare blankly at the weak person on the bed.
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