What, no reaction at all, not even to the obvious insult to his honor as a fighter? Li Lianhua should be offended, honestly. Why all this effort to catch and restrain him, just to ignore him? If Di Feisheng had just taken a moment longer in the ocean, he could have escaped and neither would have needed to be blamed for it. And if Li Lianhua wasn't so painfully out of breath, he could maybe even say all of that out loud in self-righteous, self-soothing chatter. But as it is, all that's left for him to do is to sulk put his hands on his hips, and because that's not reproachful enough he then crosses his arms in front of his chest instead. That'll show Di Feisheng.

For some reason, it's not until the word hurry that it fully sinks in; Fang Duobing will be here very soon. It's already too late, he knows. Everything Li Lianhua had tried to preserve, the ending to his story, Fang Xiaobao's unburdened future, everything he'd fought so hard to leave as well taken care of as he could-- now ruined. He should be angry at Di Feisheng for that, but it all drains from him like the last flush of color from his face. In the end, isn't it him who didn't walk far enough, didn't die fast enough? So it will be on him to listen and explain, to appease and soothe and hurt him all over again. It's so tiring. It's not what Fang Xiaobao deserves. But it's all he's got left to give to the one who understands the man named Li Lianhua the best.