The night's wind and snow were harsh.
The raging wind swept up the snow, blurring almost everything in sight, leaving the dilapidated temple nearly invisible, just a faint shadow lingering.
Lu Tong hurried to the Plague Hospital and had just reached the entrance when he heard Cuicui's heart-wrenching cries.
"Dad, Dad——"
The patients who had gathered around the Plague Hospital laughing during the day, now all fell silent, their faces in the dim light looking utterly desperate.
Lu Tong pushed aside the curtain, and as he entered, was instantly assaulted by a strong, metallic scent of blood.
Ding Yong lay on the couch, his complexion turned an eerie shade of green. Astonishing patches of purple plaques covered the arms that hung off the side of the bed, and he was vomiting blood.
Medical Officers at his sides were pressing on his arms, the spouting blood staining the sheets beneath him red.
