When the doctor came out of the back room, he could only bite the bullet and kneel on the ground, not daring to lift his head: "Sorrow, condolences."
Jiang Yutang sat on a chair and did not move for a while.
He lowered his head and closed his eyes. One hand drooped down, blood dripping from the fingertips. The hem of the clothes was soaked with blood, and it fell into the palm of the hand along the wrist.
The room was quiet, there was no sound for a long time, and Zhao Lu, who was kneeling on the side, was trembling. Only then did Jiang Yutang raise his hand: "Go down."
His throat was dry and hoarse as if it had been scorched by fire.
Zhao Lu almost burst into tears when he looked at the decadent look of the prince, and held back abruptly.
"Master Shi..." He got up, held up the puddl
