Sigismond Ingalls has strength but no cunning!

At around ten o'clock in the morning, the chaotic snowflakes finally stopped falling and the temperature rose a little. But Wan Xin's legs were numb from the cold and his whole body was shaking violently.
It's still a long way from death, but the pain is real.
Separated by a piece of glass against the wall, Sigismond Ingalls sat on the single sofa in the lounge, sipping hot tea, his eyes still indifferent.
Sitting opposite him was Wan Tai, who was trembling with fear, with a look of pity...