"Is Zheng yuluo's injury more important than your own life? That little injury of hers would be healed in two or three days! And you? If you don't take care of your body and all your normal cells are devoured by the virus, you'll have to report to the King of Hell!"
Mu Sen was furious, but he couldn't ignore it. He stepped forward, grabbed Jing Zhi's wrist, and took his pulse.
Jing Zhi subconsciously wanted to pull his hand back, but mu Sen stared at him sternly. "Don't move! Do you think I'm just checking someone's pulse? If your surname wasn't Jing, I wouldn't have bothered with you!"
"I'm not sick!"
"Yes, many mental patients say they are normal! Drunkards would never admit that they were drunk! Which type are you?"
Jing Zhi was silent for a moment before he suddenly said,""You've changed,"
