The classroom was somewhat cold.

Lin Baici touched the back of his hand; the blood was warm and wet, real blood. He rolled up his sleeve, saw no wound, but the blood kept flowing.

He lifted his shirt to check his belly, blood was streaming there too. "Is this my blood?"

His phone was broken, and Lin Baici couldn't use the front camera to check his face, but judging by touch, his cheeks felt as if they had been washed with blood.