There is one day left until the second round of the Sect Competition.
Zhou Li dashed.
A wild dash.
When he pushed open the restroom door and saw Liu Kuang's haunting face, he understood everything.
In the restroom, Zhou Li clasped a roll of paper, silent.
Splutter splat.
"You too?"
Liu Kuang, with half a head wrapped in bandages, asked.
Zhou Li nodded, but realizing Liu Kuang couldn't see, he just grunted through his nose in response.
"Ah."
Liu Kuang sighed, scratched his head helplessly, and said, "The carbonated gas still has issues; it can't be drunk directly."
"·······"
After a brief silence, Zhou Li asked, "Is there any cure?"
"I've been dashing for three days."
Liu Kuang's response left Zhou Li hopeless.
"I have to compete tomorrow."
Zhou Li covered his mouth, "What to do?"
"It's tricky."
Liu Kuang sighed, "Carbonated gas easily causes intestinal disturbance; if my guess is correct, your intestines should be in turmoil now."
