Two things happen simultaneously when their hands touch: first, the migraine that Xiao Zhan's been fighting all day dissipates so immediately that a loud gasp slips out of his mouth. Second, a torrential outpouring of warmth shoots up Xiao Zhan's arm so quickly that he almost loses his balance and falls off the bench. The next moment, Xiao Zhan drops Yibo's hand. He tries to convert the abrupt movement into something more graceful, but he doesn't think he succeeds. Yibo's eyes have gone wide. His neck bobs as he swallows. What the hell, Xiao Zhan thinks faintly, astonishment thick in his throat. He just manages to keep himself from passing out as the migraine lances through his head again with a vengeance.