Death Will Come Eventually

There was no shortage of such blankets in the Zhai family. As soldiers, Zhai Yaohui and Zhai Sheng had lived through much tougher circumstances. Tonight, they had just laid down a futon in Old Master Zhai's room. Because the warm temperatures of September had not completely passed, it was much more cooling to sleep on the floor rather than the bed, even if the floor was a little hard.

After a night, Zhai Sheng, who was in his early thirties, did not feel anything at all. On the other hand, Zhai Yaohui, who was almost sixty, was feeling sore all over, and he looked frail.

Seeing Zhai Yaohui in this state, Miao Jing quickly pulled Zhai Yaohui back to their room and helped Zhai Yaohui massage his back and waist. "You're already quite senior in age. Just admit it." In the past, there was no way that Old Zhai would face such severe consequences from sleeping on the floor for one night.