Lin Yan felt as if someone had dunked him in cold water. The guy in front was once a friend, a brother. "Fang Zimo, what are you trying to do ?"
Fang Zimo smiled and untied his robe, revealing long, ugly red marks on his skin. Lin Yan cringed at the sight of those bloody marks, looking away at once. When he shifted his gaze, he heard Fang Zimo sigh softly. "Ugly, aren't they?" He mused as if he was talking about the weather, then he closed his robe and walked forward. Tipping Lin Yan's chin with his finger. "Do you know, brother Yan, these marks were supposed to be yours?"
Lin Yan's head snapped up. He stared at Fang Zimo; it was as if he was looking at a stranger, as a sense of betrayal crawled up in his heart. He eyed him warily. "You -"
