Du Xin opened his eyes half-suspectingly, "Really nothing? Then why do I feel so cold, and my head is a little dizzy, like I'm dying."
Yang Wei rolled his eyes and said helplessly, "Have you died before? How do you know the feeling of dying? Are you sure your dizziness isn't because you watched my Japanese art film secretly in the middle of the night and um... overindulged?"
"Isn't that how TV shows always depict it? First, you cough up blood, then get held by the leading guy or girl, saying, how I feel so cold, hold me tight, and before finishing the sentence, they're gone." Du Xin sat up, his face full of confusion.
Yang Wei was speechless again, "You said it, that's TV. People don't die that easily; after being stabbed a few times, they can at least hang in there for another ten or fifteen minutes. Otherwise, if they died before the ambulance came, what would hospitals be for."
