Fourteen minutes left.
In fourteen minutes, there will be nothing between them anymore.
Nothing anymore.
Anyway, every encounter they've had so far has been a countdown, so this one isn't any different.
Gong Shirao tightly hugged herself, wanting to cry, really wanting to cry.
The overwhelming sensation like being surrounded by flames was almost suffocating her.
She didn't know what to do to make this feeling pass quickly, she could only grit her teeth and endure it.
But she felt she probably couldn't even hold on for another minute.
She just wanted to knock herself out, maybe it would feel a bit better.
Outside the bathroom, Zhan Nanjue stood at the door, his gaze complex.
He wanted to help her treat her wound, but his right hand couldn't even be lifted.
—Don't worry a bit, I won't cling to you!
This is obviously the best outcome, but why did hearing her say it make him feel so uncomfortable?
As if every word was like a poisoned arrow, striking straight into his heart.
