Fu Qinglun's upper body was bare and though he had lost a good amount of weight over the past few days, he still had a good build. His skin was perfectly tanned with a muscular chest and a six pack underneath. Though he wasn't as brawny as Lu Yan, his figure was still one that was admirable.
His wound had torn open again and it was a bloody mess. He stretched his arm out to grab a bottle of disinfecting alcohol and poured it all over his wound.
He broke out in a fine dew of perspiration after having to endure the burning sensation. The sweat had trickled down his face and landed on his trousers.
With quick motion, he picked up the needle and thread on the tray and started stitching his wound by himself.
Since he didn't administer any anesthesia, the needle was poking through his flesh and it truly hurt.