"I can pretend I didn't see anything, fine—if you go get hospitalized. Right now!" Mo Beiyan reached to grab his shoulder, but Mo Nanjue twisted aside, and his shirt was actually ripped wide open with a tearing sound—
His long, lean arm was instantly exposed. Mo Nanjue's handsome face darkened; he turned his head back. "Haven't you finished losing your shit yet?"
"Go to the hospital."
"Get lost!"
Looking at that completely indifferent face, Mo Beiyan suddenly felt so furious he could hardly breathe. He couldn't even tell why exactly he was angry, just that something was stuck in his chest, no matter how he turned it over it felt wrong. "Come with me!"
Mo Nanjue's peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly. "You really begging for a beating?"
Mo Beiyan's Adam's apple bobbed. "Go to the hospi—"
