"Class monitor, do you have to work so hard?"
Looking at Liang Shixian, whose face was getting paler and paler, and his eyes were slightly sunken, Ji Ruo couldn't help but say,""If you act like this, those who don't know might think that you've rubbed too much."
"I'm fine."
Liang Shixian smiled weakly and didn't even refute Ji Ruo.
"I'm still young. It's just a little blood loss. It's easy to make up for it."
"You, sigh..."
Ji Ruo sighed.
"Don't say that I don't take care of you, class monitor. You don't have to work with me. I'll cook you a bowl of blood tonic soup."
As he spoke, Ji Ruo took out a small clay pot from the bottom of the cart. He raised his knife and chopped up a handful of blood replenishing spirit herbs. He put them into the clay pot and added water.
Ji Ruo was holding the fried rice in one hand and the clay pot in the other. He activated his Iron Palm and let the high temperature gather in his palm.
