Dongluo Pass, inside a tower pavilion.
Yu Qiurong lay on the bedroll, her face pale to the extreme, her body so thin it seemed just skin and bones.
Her eyes stared fixedly at Tan Yun, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to say something, but her throat seemed blocked, and she could not utter a word.
All the inner strength in Yu Qiurong was depleted and languishing. Her cultivation had regressed to the ordinary First Grade level and was continuing to deteriorate.
Seeing this, Tan Yun quickly asked, "Sister Qiurong, is there something you want to say?"
Yu Qiurong's beautiful face twisted in pain, a dense sweat broke out on her forehead, her palm clutched the bedsheets, and her body curled up, clearly in great agony.
"What... What is this?"
Tan Yun, seeing this, quickly grabbed Yu Qiurong's arm.
When she had been at Jishi Hall, she had also learned medicine from An Jing. Though she was not a master, she was still very skilled at feeling pulses.
