"Oh my God, this person is so filthy!"
"Hurry up!"
"He's a beggar, Yuxin!"
"He saved me!"
"Alright then..."
...
The morning sunlight streamed in through the window.
Yang Chen felt a glare and slowly opened his eyes, instinctively reaching out to block the sunlight.
At the same time, he felt as if his whole body was aching, as if he had been disassembled and then put back together.
He had never felt this way before, not even when he first joined the Guard and underwent intensive training—he had never been this exhausted.
Now he felt almost as if he were dying, his whole body sore beyond measure.
But Yang Chen still struggled to get up.
Sitting upright, Yang Chen realized he was lying on a sofa.
The sofa was covered with a worn-out sheet.
However, looking at his dirty appearance, Yang Chen shook his head and sighed softly.
He took a look around; the place was not small, about one hundred and twenty square meters.
