His consciousness was muddled and hard to condense as if being choked by the cold sticky spider silk, he seemed to be falling to death inch by inch, someone picked him up and put him on a soft bed.
But for Da Zhao, any movement is like torture. He trembled uncontrollably from the pain, but he couldn't even make a sound.
A cloth soaked with water was placed on his cracked lips and the instinct to survive made him suck at it, However, his physical condition was no longer enough to support him to finish swallowing and Da Zhao coughed unconsciously, spitting out a mouthful of blood from his mouth.
Sean held Da Zhao's thick neck with one hand and turned his cheek to one side so that he could spit out the blood completely so that it would not flow back into his throat.
