Even as his headache once again resurfaced, Yang Jingshen still took out the gun and aimed the muzzle at sister Wan's unconscious form. His hands were a little lacking in strength and firmness and realizing this, he then exerted effort to tighten his grip, his headache increasing in intensity to tempo with his actions.
Placing his finger on the trigger and removing it again. Repeating this action a few times in succession– as if it was an unconscious impulse. Yang Jingshen bit his lips to overcome the ever-increasing pain, wondering for a moment what he was even doing. Couldn't he just pull the trigger ah? What was so difficult about that?
