With li xiaonian's permission, Wei Xing excitedly turned around and left. A moment later, he returned with a little boy of about seven years old in his arms.
The little boy was wrapped in a thick cotton-padded jacket. Even so, judging from the shape of his face, he must be as thin as a stick. Apart from that, his breathing was extremely weak, as if he was about to die at any moment. He seemed to be unconscious, but there was pain between his brows.
my Lord, this is my son, Wei Yongan. Please help me treat him. Wei Xing looked at li xiaonian with a face full of anticipation.
However, li xiaonian only took one look and immediately frowned. He then asked curiously, " did you offend someone? this isn't a problem with his Constitution. He's been cursed, a very strange curse.