In the bitter life of force-feeding studies, the sweetness of money had become Ji Jue's mental support. Every time after getting brutally beaten, he would take out his phone to check his account balance.
It was just too delightful to stop.
"Here we go again."
Ye Chun rolled his eyes, watching helplessly as Ji Jue held his phone, giggling foolishly and could only shake his head.
Forget it, forget it, even if he was cured, he'd still drool.
Sweet dreams are hard to find, let him sleep a bit longer.
Sooner or later, a brutal reality would slap them both in the face.
After lunch, upon receiving a call, Ye Chun sent Ji Jue with a cart to pick up the goods.
