When Qin Zhi'ai got up, she disturbed Gu Yusheng, who had been standing by the roadside without any reaction, like a statue.
His gaze moved slowly from the suit jacket to Qin Zhi'ai.
The torn dress on her had become even more ruined after the friction with the asphalt.
The bright skin that was exposed was smeared with blood, leaving not a single place intact. Even several streams of blood were flowing down her left calf.
Although the driver helped her, she still moved slowly, her left leg limping.
Gu Yusheng bent his fingers and then made a fist.
Like he was bewitched, he stared at her back and recalled her shout again—"Gu Yusheng!"
Had she already rushed over to me when she shouted my name? When she pushed me away, had she ever imagined that she was putting herself in danger?
With these thoughts flashing through his mind, he felt like his chest had been fiercely hit by something, and it twitched abruptly. He stood up straight, and rushed forward to grab Qin Zhi'ai's arm.
