"Cough, cough, cough..."
Xiong Fei struggled to open his eyes, and only after seeing Su Tiesheng did he sigh in relief.
"You are an old soldier of the Northern King's Palace. I, I have not come to the wrong place."
Before he could finish speaking, he closed his eyes.
"Lord Xiong Fei, Lord Xiong Fei, please wake up!" Su Tiesheng supported Xiong Fei, desperate with urgency.
"Let me take a look." Ye Wudao stood up and, upon examining the burly man's injuries, was shocked.
He had at least thirty wounds on his body—knife wounds, sword scars, fractured bones, each one fatal, and most ominously, his left leg had been chopped off and was continuously bleeding.
"This guy is seriously injured!" Ye Wudao frowned.
While supporting Xiong Fei, Su Tiesheng knelt down hard towards Ye Wudao; "Wudao, please, you must save Lord Xiong Fei, he has saved my life!"
