Qing Li looked at Ye Jiu, who seemed to be coaxing a child, and nodded.
Anyway, his doom was already sealed; as long as he didn't let Sikong see what he had become now, anything else could go as it pleased—the worst outcome would be death, which could no longer cause him more serious harm.
"Shall I put it on for you now?" Ye Jiu said, gesturing a little. Seeing him not resist at all, he began the process.
Qing Li felt as if he had dreamed.
In the dream, he was dazed and confused, not understanding anything before he woke up from the dream.
As he looked at Ye Jiu, whose smile was as radiant as blooming flowers, Qing Li's vision gradually became clearer.
He watched as Ye Jiu rummaged in his sleeve and pulled out a powder-white Furry Ball. Like a ruffian, he ripped open the front of his own shirt and placed Furry Ball on his wound.
Qing Li felt as though Furry Ball was sucking blood from his body, sadly unable to resist.
