บท 1813: Mu Qingcheng (1)

Ying die fell into little Ling's arms, blood flowing like a river, dying the little bun's white clothes red.

"Aunty Ying die, aunty Ying Ying."

Ling 'er supported Ying die's body with all her might and carefully placed her on the ground. Then, she took out a sharp dagger and quickly cut her wrist.

Blood flowed down from her tender little hand and dripped onto Ying die's chest.

Ying die struggled to open her eyes. When she saw little Ling 'er pouring blood on her again, she was stunned. She wanted to say something, but endless fatigue made her unable to say a word.

"aunty ying die, don't sleep. ling 'er will save you. you must not sleep."

Little Ling 'er's eyes were red and there were still traces of tears on her face. She was so anxious that she was about to cry, and her childish voice was trembling.