"Brother!"
"Senior Brother!"
"Brother Lian!"
No one had anticipated the sudden turn of events.
Yang Shuang and the others all paled and hurried to Lian Youming's side.
But on looking closely, they saw his lips and teeth clenched shut, his breath barely a thread, his face as pale as gold paper. He looked unlikely to survive.
Yang Shuang's eyes reddened at once. She was just reaching out to take his pulse when a large hand swept down, swiftly running along Lian Youming's entire spine before checking every joint in his body.
It was Chen Baihu.
Yu Feishuang and her companions gathered around as well.
Chen Baihu said nothing. Ignoring everyone's expressions, he hoisted Lian Youming onto his shoulder, turned, and sped away.
As they raced along, a series of pushes and massages with inner strength briefly restored a little of Lian Youming's awareness.
He could only feel the night wind roaring past his ears, with utter darkness along the way.
Yet when he tried to move, his body gave no response. It was as though his consciousness had sunk into a great cocoon wrapped in layer upon layer, binding his hands and feet so he could not budge.
Why can't I move?
He could not even speak.
"Where's your Heavenly Dipper Strength? If your body won't move, use your spirit intent to summon it."
Chen Baihu's voice suddenly rang out.
Lian Youming forced his mind to steady and tried to control himself with spirit intent, but every thought vanished like a stone sinking into the sea. In moments, he lost consciousness again.
Seeing this, Chen Baihu murmured, "His injuries are even worse than I thought!"
They hurried all the way, and a long time later, the two arrived inside an extremely old courtyard residence.
Low walls topped with gray