Even the well-trained bodyguards wished they could dig out their noses and become people without a sense of smell upon catching a whiff of the stench. However, Xu Ke appeared as if nothing had happened, watching the three people's struggle with a blank expression.
If they couldn't endure even this much, each of them vomiting like that, then what about Xiaxia? How did the delicately fragile Xiaxia manage to stay in such a cold and foul place, waiting for her rescue? If he had been a step too late, would she have drowned herself in the fetid ditch, and her body, rotting away, might have never been discovered? Would no one ever know she had been there, waiting for rescue?
Just thinking about that outcome inexplicably pierced Xu Ke's heart, a pain like having a prickly board pressed repeatedly against his chest, a dense and stifling pain that never allowed relief, only soft, persistent agonies, torturous and constant.
