The fresh dressing had to be kept dry.
Shen Liangchuan's fever had gone down but he had been perspiring profusely. In addition, his look of disdain as he frowned at his own mess prompted Qiao Lian to suggest a shower.
Crestfallen, Shen Liangchuan paused for a while and said, "It's not necessary."
However he was still deeply frowning.
For a germaphobe like himself, not being able to take a bath was roughly equivalent to death.
Seeing how uncomfortable he was, Qiao Lian bit her lip.
After a moment of silence, she walked to him and said, "I'll help you shower."
Shen Liangchuan froze and abruptly raised his head.
His eyes were ablaze with passion, and Qiao Lian felt her face reddening from the intensity of his gaze.
She clenched her fist and repeated it, "I'll help you shower."
Shen Liangchuan flushed, the tips of his ears had turned a bright scarlet.
