"You hit me." His tone became even more wistful.
"Who knew it was you!"
Qin Zhao's mouth twitched, but she still wiped the bloodstains off his face with her sleeve.
Then she checked Chu Yan's pulse, a bit worried. She hadn't rendered him useless, had she?
"I'm fine."
Chu Yan propped himself up against the stone wall with one hand, and with the other, he locked her in his embrace.
If it were the Chu Yan of before, he definitely would have been killed by her blow. But in the past few days, he had absorbed quite a lot of power from the ghosts, so Qin Zhao's strike didn't actually do any harm—it just left a bit of pressure on his chest.
"Not only did you leave me out, but you also hit me." His voice gradually turned colder, his gaze deeper.
"Qin Zhao, you're done for."
No sooner had he said this than Chu Yan pressed his lips against hers. When Qin Zhao resisted, he whined pitifully in pain.
"Stop moving, it hurts so much."
