That night, Zhao Runtian thought a lot. He felt he should say goodbye to his family; otherwise, by the time they discovered it, his body would already be stiff, and dressing him would be difficult. He didn't want to die and have his arms and legs broken just to put on clothes.
Since falling ill, he had asked his family not to come in if possible. Although this made him feel very lonely and anxious, he couldn't risk infecting his family.
Zhao Runtian barely slept all night, his mental state not great, but his chest felt less tight, and the number of times he coughed up phlegm and blood reduced significantly to only a few times all night.
In the morning, as he waited for his wife to come in, so he could ask her to call his parents to say goodbye and prepare clothes and a coffin for him in advance, the mysterious child from yesterday slipped inside before she arrived.
Perhaps he had come to terms with it; his mindset seemed better than before.
