Xiao Yang's face became redder and redder as if he was about to bleed. The burning sensation in his body seemed to burn up the blood in his body.

Xiao Yang's forehead exuded fine beads of sweat, and his back and chest clothes were all soaked with sweat.

"Xiaoyang... Are you okay, you? Lin Mohao looked at Xiaoyang, his eyes full of worries.

Simon glanced at Isabel gracefully, and Isabel threw out her tongue.

She knows what's going on, but she's not good enough to talk to Lin Mohao, so she can only say obscurely, "Mohao, take Xiaoyang back with you. Maybe there's something wrong with the tomato juice he...