As soon as Lu Bixing's hand touched Dylan Lin's back, hot blood immediately stained his hand. He quickly raised his hand in panic and supported the other person's weight with his stiff shoulders. For a moment, his legs were shaking.
The emergency jump just now tore the wound beyond recognition. Dylan Lin's eyes went dark for a while, but his consciousness was still firmly attached to the mental network.
He was silent for a long time before he gathered enough strength to say in an almost inaudible voice: "I'm not going to die. Give me a hand."
If the injury to the back spine happened in primitive times, it would basically result in high-level paraplegia. Dylan Lin briefly lost control of his limbs, and his body kept sliding down. His chin hit Lu Bixing's shoulder, and his nose brushed across his neck. His faint voice was drowned out by his rapid and shallow breathing.
Lu Bixing: "What did you say?"
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