Ye Xingbei saw the pain that had not yet faded from his eyes and trembled with heartache: "Where does it hurt again? Why don't you call the doctor?"
"The old wound is acting up..." Gu Junzhu turned over with difficulty, lying face down on the bed.
Just a simple turn over, and cold sweat had soaked through his pajamas.
He had been awake from the pain for a while now.
But he harbored a sense of wishful thinking, always feeling that perhaps if he endured it, it would pass?
He didn't want Ye Xingbei to worry or feel heartache for him.
He also didn't want to show his vulnerability in front of Ye Xingbei.
He didn't want Ye Xingbei to think of him as a sickly person.
If he kept struggling like this, in Ye Xingbei's heart, his body would probably be linked with the word "broken."
He knew this was a ridiculous vanity of men.
But this was probably the only flaw he had.
Nobody's perfect, so he was not in a rush to force himself to correct it.
