The low and low voice like babbled in sleep came out intermittently, and Nangong also shrank into a ball and hugged his arms tightly.
"Bingshan, what's wrong with you?"
You'er felt something soften in his heart and squatted down in front of him. In the darkness, all he could see was his long wet hair and his body curled up like shrimps.
"It's so cold——"
He seemed to be unconscious and just kept repeating one sentence.
You'er hugged his body. It was very cold, as cold as ice. It was so cold that her hands were numb. How much wine did he drink?
"I'll drink it to death. It's an iceberg. I'm so heavy for nothing. I'm exhausted."
Youer spent a lot of effort to move him back into the house, angrily threw him on the sofa and prepared to leave.
"Don't go - it's so warm - don't leave me alone -"
Nangong Yi's painful murmurs completely disrupted her heart and made her stop in her tracks.
"Yaya, I owe you in my previous life."
Youer cursed lowly and turned around.
Under the light, Nangong Yi's face was ashen, his brows were frowning in pain, his pale lips were bitten with deep tooth marks, and the bright red blood drops looked extremely enchanting. His gray-white shirt was already dirty and messy, and the shoes on his feet were dirty.
, it also all fell off when you dragged him.
At this time, he still looked like a nobleman, but he looked like a better-looking beggar.
The right boy brought out hot water, wrung out the towel, and slowly wiped his face.
She told herself over and over again in her heart that when she helped him, she was definitely sympathizing with him and had absolutely no other feelings. Otherwise, if he really died, she would be suspected of being the murderer.
"so sad--"
Nangong Yi's brows furrowed more and more tightly, and the look of pain on his face became even worse.
"vomit--"
He turned around and vomited out, and it just happened to hit your right son.
You'er was completely stunned. He looked at the filth all over his body. There was nothing else, it was all water, just the unpleasant smell——
"vomit--"
This time it was not Nangong Yi. Your son vomited even more violently than him, so he turned around and ran into the bathroom.
"You idiot, Bingshan, go to hell! If I want to take care of you again, I won't be Yu Yishan."
The right son felt that his intestines were vomiting blue, so he took a bath and changed into clean clothes.
"Your son——"
Someone called her name very gently, and she was sure it was not an auditory hallucination.