"I've already said it many times. I'm not a Saintess. My blood can't cure the plague. Go back," Shen Yijia said.
Ma San did not seem to hear him. He kept kowtowing and repeating, "Save her."
Shen Yijia did not feel good.
Her spiritual liquid might be able to save people, but it would take seven days for the spiritual liquid to condense. Madam Ma would not be able to wait until then, so it was impossible for her to take it out when the time came.
Just as her beautiful husband had said, if she couldn't save everyone, she couldn't save just one.
It wasn't that she didn't want to save him, but she couldn't.
"It's useless even if you beg me. If you have the time, why don't you go back and accompany her more?" Shen Yijia prepared to close the door.
Seeing that Ma San was drenched in the rain, she pursed her lips and crossed the threshold. She squatted down and placed the umbrella beside him.
Ma San paused.
