It was clear that the man was in pain right now, with tight furrows on his handsome face and his thin lips pressed firmly together.
When he was discharged from the hospital, the doctor had said—someone must assist with applying the medicine because one cannot fully see the wound from their own angle, making it easy to miss spots.
Luo Qiangwei bit her lip and pushed the door open to walk in.
Mo Shiche looked up at the sound and, seeing it was her, pursed his lips, his voice was somewhat hoarse when he spoke, "Did I wake you? Sorry, I accidentally dropped the scissors on the floor just now."
Luo Qiangwei looked at his wound, now fearsome under the reddish liquid, and her brows knit tightly together. Seeing her reaction, Mo Shiche put down the cotton swab in his hand and stood up, bracing himself on the edge of the table, "I'll take you back to the bedroom to continue sleeping. I won't wake you up next time, don't be mad at me, okay?"
