Lin Qiye's words were sonorous and powerful.
However, Zhu Yuheng did not believe it. She knew she was at death's door and was so tired that she could not open her eyes.
"Cold... I'm cold... Help... Hold me tight... The only thing I don't want is to die of the coldness..."
Zhu Yuheng started to tremble. She feared that she would die in the cold.
She murmured.
She had completely lost her arrogance and haughtiness from before.
Lin Qiye could only hug Zhu Yuheng tightly.
"Don't look like you're going to die. With me around, how can I let you die?"
As he spoke, Lin Qiye's palm reached into Zhu Yuheng's clothes and covered the wound.
Tens of thousands of wisps of innate Qi rushed into Zhu Yuheng's body.
The warm and comfortable feeling made her tightly furrowed brows relax a little.
The endless cold she felt had dispersed, but the cramping pain in her heart became more excruciating.