"Brother Zhang, Brother Zhang! Are you okay?" Ye Wuming asked anxiously.
"I, I'm not going to make it," Zhang Xiaohao said.
After finishing his words, he staggered a few steps and sat down on the ground with a thud.
"Brother Zhang, don't you scare me!" Ye Wuming cried urgently.
His eyes reddened, and tears started to form.
"Before I die, I want to tell you something," Zhang Xiaohao said.
"No! Brother Zhang, I won't let you die! Yes, I must save you!" Ye Wuming shouted, losing his composure.
He reached into his chest and pulled out a dozen delicate little bottles.
"Brother Zhang, quickly open your mouth!" Ye Wuming urged.
"Mm," Zhang Xiaohao uttered a response.
Opening his mouth, Ye Wuming, in his agitation, poured all the elixirs from the dozen bottles into Zhang Xiaohao's mouth.
"Brother Zhang, how do you feel now?" Ye Wuming asked again, full of concern.
"I feel a bit cold! It seems like a deathbed revival," Zhang Xiaohao blinked and said.
