Before he finished speaking, he pursed his lips, and fresh red blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Jiuliang inwardly cursed, wanting to stop him but was a step too late.
Qian Mian's eyes widened, his body tilted, and he fell to the side.
"Bang—"
Wei Xi stepped forward, bent down, and reached out to check his nose.
He was already dead.
He stood up and gave Jiuliang a slight shake of his head.
Just moments ago, he seemed desperate to live; now, he had gone ahead and ended himself.
Jiuliang furrowed her brows, ready to speak, when a wave of turbulence in her stomach surged, and the nauseous feeling she had barely suppressed emerged again.
She turned away, unable to hold back the retching.
"Ugh—"
Mohan's eyes narrowed with concern; he quickly walked to her side, "What's wrong?"
The sudden wave of nausea was particularly intense; Jiuliang couldn't find the breath to answer and just waved her hand.
She leaned over, supporting herself on Mohan's arm.
"Ugh—"
