Ning Fengzhi had even contemplated ending his life; he was too ashamed to face his daughter again.
But when he thought that after his death, his daughter would truly have no family left, he could not bear to do it.
No one knew that the master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, once a figure who had dominated the soul master world, was now lying miserably on the floor.
It was not until nearly noon that hurried footsteps finally sounded.
"Dad!" With an anxious cry, Ning Rongrong pushed open the door and rushed inside.
When she saw Ning Fengzhi lying on the ground, covered in dust with bloodstains on his face, Ning Rongrong nearly broke down.
"Dad, what happened to you? Don't scare me." Ning Rongrong rushed over and dropped to her knees beside him.
A little light returned to Ning Fengzhi's eyes, and his gaze gradually focused as he looked at his beloved daughter.
Ning Rongrong's haggard appearance filled Ning Fengzhi with heartache.
"Dad, I'll carry you to the bed." Ning Rongrong stretched out her arms, struggling to lift Ning Fengzhi and carry him toward the bed.
Feeling his daughter limp as she walked, Ning Fengzhi's heart sank, and all remaining hope vanished.
"Jiang Chen, may you die a horrible death!" Ning Fengzhi let out a hoarse, grief-stricken cry.
"Dad, what's wrong?" Panic rose in Ning Rongrong's heart as she hurriedly placed Ning Fengzhi on the bed.
With his only remaining hand, Ning Fengzhi tightly gripped Ning Rongrong's hand. His face twisted as he asked, "Rongrong, do you feel any discomfort in your body?"
Ning Rongrong gave a small cry. "Dad, I don't feel any discomfort."
Ning Fengzhi continued gripping his daughter's hand tightly. "Then why are you limping...?"
"It's nothing. It just hurts a little," Ning Rongrong