"Nanjue!" Chen An quickly crouched down, reaching his hand toward his neck's artery, "What's wrong? Is the poison acting up?"
Mo Nanjue supported himself with one hand on the ground, his head lowered, the droplets on the ground were either undried lake water or sweat; the swimming just now almost exhausted all his energy, and at this moment, he felt weak all over, as if his skin and blood had been stripped away.
He shook his head after catching his breath, "I'm fine."
Chen An gripped his arm, feeling the muscles that were slightly twitching, he slammed a fist on the car door, "You're like this and still say you're fine?!"
"Don't make noise," Mo Nanjue closed his eyes and did not move, "Let me rest for a moment."
