After nightfall, rain began to fall in Yancheng, the cool breeze blowing in one's face felt piercing to the bone.
Huo Zhao went for a full-body checkup in the afternoon, and other than some bruising in his brain, the rest of his body was unscathed by those punks.
His phone had been crushed beyond repair, so he had no choice but to get a new one, but some important items were lost forever.
Just past six, Huo Zhao went to Peak's training room to report to the little rascal.
The little rascal had just finished dancing and was wiping off sweat. Seeing Huo Zhao, his eyes immediately lit up, but then he frowned, "Why did you come in just a jacket again? Don't you have injuries?"
"I'm not cold," Huo Zhao said.
"Are you made of steel or something? I'm done with class in half an hour, go sit over there and rest."
Luckily, the practice room was heated, so the little rascal didn't have to worry about Huo Zhao getting cold.
