Next to the sofa, a man lay on the ground, his forehead injured and bloodied, dried blood had made several crimson traces meandering across his face, shockingly vivid. Lying motionless, it was unclear whether he was unconscious or dead.
Sang Qian leaned on the sofa, her face so red it seemed as if blood might drip from it, eyes closed, appearing to be asleep.
Ji Chengzhou bent over to check the man's breathing on the floor; it was burning hot. Although his breath was abnormal, he was still alive after all.
He walked over to the sofa and checked Sang Qian's breathing, also burning hot, then touched her forehead; the temperature was frighteningly high.
Ji Chengzhou had had similar experiences and vaguely knew what she had taken.
Bending over, he picked her up, and the woman in his arms immediately opened her eyes, bloodshot. Her voice was weak yet firm, "Let me go."
She tried to push Ji Chengzhou away, but her hands were soft and powerless, failing to budge him at all.
