When he told her to take care, Chu Yu felt an ominous premonition rise in her heart, as if he was bidding farewell.
There was no time to think further; Chu Yu had already grasped Rong Zhi's wrist, only to feel his hand was frighteningly cold, like a piece of ice in her palm. Rong Zhi's body temperature seemed naturally low, and at this moment, it was terrifyingly cold, probably a sign of excessive blood loss.
"Knowing you're about to die, what are you spacing out for?!" Chu Yu gritted her teeth and pulled out the longsword stuck in the carriage wall, intending to hand it to Rong Zhi.
Wouldn't chopping off that damned wooden piece solve everything?
However, Rong Zhi didn't take the sword, but smiled helplessly, "Princess, I can't move it." His voice was neither sad nor happy, just calmly stating the facts. Chu Yu recalled that after He Jue left, Rong Zhi had dropped his sword, clearly unable to hold on any longer.
