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Nán Wǎnyān's memories fused with the pain, intensifying it to unbearable levels. Just as her consciousness was fading, she heard a man sneer and say his final words: —,Air was forced back into Nan Wan'yan's nostrils. She gasped, struggling to breathe, after vomiting a large pool of blood onto the floor beside the bathtub where she lay half propped up.,A little girl of three or four years old stood outside the high wall of Yiwangfu, looking up at another little girl lying on top of the wall and whispering, “Almost there! Come on, Xiaobao!”。