Zhao Bolin's mind went blank and for a second, he thought that he had heard wrong.
In his mind, Lu Yizhou had always been aloof and laid-back. He seldom showed any distinct emotions on the surface. There were a few times when Zhao Bolin requested to cut a thin layer of flesh from him yet every single time, Lu Yizhou's eyelids did not even twitch. He did not seem to be able to feel pain — or to be exact, he had a high tolerance toward this kind of thing.
However, what he had perceived from the tremble in Lu Yizhou's tone just now was clearly anguish. A pain so great that it bled into every word he murmured. He sounded like something was tearing him apart, so wrecked and broken that it stabbed Zhao Bolin's heart as well.
Distressed, Zhao Bolin's struggle ceased and he let his body slump into the bed, no longer resisting Lu Yizhou's advance.
