Chaoyang dispensed with the pleasantries, plopping right into the driver's seat. He rubbed his aching waist and shouted,
"This is so damn painful! My back is about to break. No, this won't do. Once we get to Yicheng, I'm going into seclusion for three months."
He wasn't being dramatic. During the fall, his waist had slammed hard against a jagged, protruding rock on the summit.
It hadn't pierced his skin, but the impact had still snapped two of his ribs.
Then, as he slid down the mountainside, he sustained further crushing injuries.
Right now, he could feel a searing pain in his waist.
It felt as if it were about to snap in two at any moment.
"It's true."
Ouyang Qingcheng suddenly spoke up, his voice as cold as his gaze on Chaoyang. "If you don't want to spend the rest of your life paralyzed, I'd advise you to stay quiet."
Feng Moxi was secretly shocked and couldn't help but feel a surge of anger.
Only then did she notice the beads of sweat dotting Chaoyang's cheeks.
