Seeing Wufu disheveled and lying on the ground like a broken doll, Ah Jiu was almost bursting with anger. With a swift step forward, he helped her up.
"Wufu, Wufu, wake up." Ah Jiu gently patted Wufu's face, and upon touching it, it was scorching hot.
He had just come from outside, carrying a chill with him, and his hands were icy cold. When they touched her burning face, Wufu leaned into him like a parched person in the desert finding sweet rain, humming softly in comfort.
Ah Jiu's body went rigid, his handsome face turned grim, and he immediately clasped Wufu's hand, feeling for her pulse.
The pulse was fast and chaotic, and seeing her in this state, how could Ah Jiu not understand?
"Bastards!" he shouted angrily, daring to give her such dirty things.
Yet this was not the time to lose his temper and hold anyone accountable, he patted Wufu's face again.
