At that very moment, the Liu Family Coachman felt a stabbing pain in his chest. It was as though a great funnel had opened inside his body, and all his vital essence poured ceaselessly out through it. His body went limp, and he toppled stiffly to the ground. His oil was spent, his lamp extinguished.
This sudden scene drew the attention of Meng Zhao and the Bald Strong Man. As for the heavily pregnant woman, her heart sank. In a panic, she tried to bend down and pull the coachman up.
Yet her belly was already as large as a watermelon. Although Meng Zhao's help had temporarily removed the danger of miscarriage, such a movement was still extremely difficult for her. She could only stand there helplessly, staring blankly, at a loss for what to do.
Meng Zhao made no move. He merely watched the man calmly, knowing that his allotted span had ended and that even immortals could not save him. After all, Meng Zhao had seen from the start that this man was already a spent crossbow. The only reason he had maintained such vigorous spirits and carried a pregnant woman so far was because he had taken some kind of medicinal pill.
But pills could not supply strength without end; their effects would eventually run dry. By Meng Zhao's estimation, the man should have held on for about another hour. For the effects to fail now was likely due to his emotional turmoil, the great sorrow and great joy stirring him too violently.
"Cough, cough... Young Hero, this... this lowly one knows his life will not last much longer. Young Madam... is all alone, without anyone to depend on. I hope... I hope Young Hero can... can..."
The Liu Family Coachman's vision had already blurred, and his