The old steward was stunned for a moment, then his eyes widened. He pointed with a trembling hand at the person in Yang Jing's arms, his voice cracking. "Ma... Master! Look! It's the Young Master! The Young Master is back!"
Yang Jing landed steadily, still holding Liu Maolin. His gaze fell upon the deathly pale Hall Master Liu as he said in a low voice, "Hall Master Liu, Senior Brother Liu is severely injured. Please prepare a comfortable, high-quality carriage as soon as possible to take him back to the Liu Family Medical Hall for treatment."
Hall Master Liu seemed to snap out of a trance. He stumbled forward, trembling, his fingers gently brushing across Liu Maolin's pale cheek before he checked for a pulse.
When he felt the faint but steady beat, his heart, which had been lodged in his throat, settled slightly. But when he saw Liu Maolin's limbs dangling unnaturally and the faint bruising on his knuckles, his face instantly turned ashen again.
"His limbs..."
