The snow pressed on the wound. Shen Fei could feel the blood flowing slower from his wound, but it was still flowing.
"This wound is too large," Shen Fei slumped to the ground, "We're helpless. None of us are doctors, none of us know how to stitch a wound. There's only five of us left, there's no way to send word out. It's all snow everywhere; it's too dangerous for anyone to leave alone. And they can't afford to take that risk after the journey they had."
The snow had been falling continuously for an entire day and night. When the hell would it stop? If it didn't, they may all die here, including the two wounded, who had just joined this year, one of whom was only eighteen years old.
Just an eighteen-year-old child, who had just reached adulthood.
If something really happened, what would his parents do? And this generation mostly consists of only children. If they lost their child, who would take care of the parents once they got old?
