When Li Qiyu was at her most miserable and in pain, he never rescued her from the fire and water; he only kicked her harder.
Bo Yeyuan swayed as if he was unable to stand steady, Leike supported him, "Young Master... Are you alright?"
"Dissociative disorder... I want all the information about this disease."
"I'll gather the doctors right away."
Bo Yeyuan handed over the diagnostic report to him, his head aching terribly, his eyes so swollen and teary that he couldn't even make out the words, let alone see people clearly, "Study her condition, she... how far has her illness progressed."
Bo Yeyuan felt so afraid that he couldn't stand steady, he sat down by the fountain, wiped his face harshly, his hands full of tears.
Beyond the Roman column, besides a diary, there were several commemorative gifts—
Bo Yeyuan took them all out, holding them against his chest.
