Xie Chuncan's crying had choked him to the point of being almost hoarse. Leon Luo took a deep breath, put his arms around Xie Chuncan's shoulders and neck, and threw him behind his back. His movements were decisive and neat, without any delay.
He couldn't stay in this underground palace full of flower seeds any longer, so he found a way out to see if Xie Chuncan could recover from the illusion.
Even in such a situation, he was very careful to avoid Xie Chuncan's left wrist and did not hurt the three congealed and turned outward wounds on his forearm at all.
"Brother Xie, don't cry. I'll take you away." Leon Luo murmured, as if speaking to the unconscious Xie Chuncan behind him, and as if he wanted to repeat the oath he made in the past, "Let's leave the underground palace and this world of the dead. I'll take Brother Xie to see the sea."
Xie Chuncan on his back was still sobbing. He apologized to his father repeatedly and begged for mercy from the abuser who only existed in his memory. The shadow of the weak and childish person in the past covered the 19-year-old Xie Chuncan, almost erasing the entire existence of the sarcastic and humorous young man.
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