Lying in bed, Lin Yue listened to Sun Yong and Zhang Dong's conversation, and every word felt like a needle piercing his heart.
Jealousy, resentment, bitterness... A torrent of negative emotions surged in his chest, almost drowning him.
He clenched his jaw tightly. His chest suddenly constricted, and a metallic sweetness rose in his throat. With a SPURT, he coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood, which splattered across the snow-white bedding—a shocking sight.
Immediately after, his vision went black, his body went limp, and, overcome by a fit of rage, he fainted again.
"Yue'Er!"
"Hm?"
Sun Yong and Zhang Dong, deep in conversation, both cried out in alarm and rushed to the bedside.
Looking at the unconscious Lin Yue, Sun Yong's expression changed drastically. "What happened?" he asked urgently. "Have his old injuries flared up?"
