His face was warmed by the sun, and his hand that held her palm was coated with a layer of sweat. However, he didn't let go and crossed his fingers through hers instead.
The picture was so perfect that if he died then and there, he would have died a happy man. However, suddenly, Song Qingchun, who was lying beside him, started to groan in pain.
He turned toward the sound and realized with a shock that the white dress she was wearing was half-soaked in blood.
He stood up in a hurry to examine the wounds on her body, but he couldn't find any. He tried to carry her to the hospital, but the girl seemed to weigh several thousand tons; he couldn't move her no matter how hard he tried.
Blood continued to flow from her body.
Her brows were furrowed, and the eyes that looked at him were filled with pain. Su Zhinian could see the color slowly draining from her face.