Fu, his weathered face illuminated by the firelight, looked at Wu Xie with a stern gaze. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, were now as hard as the river stones. "I am incapable of helping you," he said, his voice echoing in the silence of the room. His words, blunt and final, hung in the air like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over Wu Xie's hopes.
Wu Xie, however, was not one to back down easily. Desperation creeping into his voice, he moved closer to Fu, his tall figure looming over the old man. "Please, I beg you to help me," he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I can do anything in return," he added, his words carrying the weight of his resolve.
Fu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Anything?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
"Yes, anything," Wu Xie replied, his voice firm. He paused for a moment before adding, "Except my life. I'm quite attached to it, you see."
