Her soft body instantly sank into his strong embrace.
Her waist was firmly clasped, shackled tightly, and in that moment, no matter how ferociously the wind howled, it seemed to matter no more.
Amid the swirling dust and sand, he gathered her into his arms, his broad and sturdy frame shielding her from everything.
Wen Xian's consciousness became faint and shallow, as if she were experiencing some kind of hallucination, with a familiar figure, a familiar scent.
For a moment, all the coldness and fierce winds around them seemed to disappear, and she was enveloped in warmth, the world going silent.
Eventually, she too succumbed to that warm darkness.
The man picked up her unconscious form and carried her quickly towards the vehicle.
Sang Nian also hurried over, opening the rear door to better accommodate her lying inside.
Even as Wen Xian lay unconscious, she coughed from time to time, even coughing up pinkish blood froth.
