At the sound of that faint voice, Madam Zhang hurried over first. The others all moved to follow, but she waved them back.
Before long, the curtains were drawn aside, revealing the withered face of an aged old man with snow-white hair. Yet his eyes were calm and gentle, showing neither fear of death nor any longing for life.
"It's me, Liu Sheng. I heard you were about to close your eyes, so I came to see you off on your final journey. I wanted to see whether a heartless man like you could die a good death."
Liu Sheng spoke angrily, his neck stiff with indignation.
Zhang Zhongxing paused to catch his breath, then said, "Whether it's a good death or a bad one, it doesn't matter. In the end, death comes all the same. As I stand at death's door, having you here to see me off, Brother Yukun, means our hundred years of friendship weren't in vain."
Liu Sheng sneered. "A hundred years of friendship? Whatever bond we had was blown away the day you abandoned Xiu Niang. I see only an enemy before me, not an old friend."
A bitter smile appeared on Zhang Zhongxing's face. "Brother Yukun, you may refuse to call me your friend, but I'll always consider you mine. I'm about to leave this world, and it doesn't matter whether anyone else is here. With you here, Brother Yukun, I feel Heaven hasn't treated me too harshly."
Zhang Zhongxing spoke with such sorrow that perhaps, as the saying went, a dying man's words were kind. In Xu Yi's eyes, this withered old man was not as cold and unfeeling as he had expected.
Though Liu Sheng hated Zhang Zhongxing to the core, seeing him so frail and close to death brought the past