"Buddy, are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"
"No need."
"If you're short on cash, I can cover it."
"No need."
"I think it's better to get checked at the hospital, you look terrifying like this."
"No need."
"Well, how do you hear me with your ears plugged?"
"No need."
"..."
Zhao Yi leaned against the passenger seat, thick cotton balls stuffed in his nose and ears, holding a white towel and occasionally wiping the blood that seeped from his eyes.
In front of him sat a large tea mug, used to catch the occasional mouthful of blood he coughed up, and now the mug was nearly full, swaying with the movement of the truck, making a sloshing sound.
This scene made Zhang Xinhai, who was driving, twitch at the corners of his mouth.
Crawling out of a tomb, Zhao Yi was in a terrible state, coincidentally running into a guy he had shared a boxed meal with at a rest stop when he first came.
