Lying in the same bed with him, she turned over slightly. Afraid of touching his wound, she was careful with every movement.
It felt as if the two of them had become one. His pain was her pain, and his injury was her injury.
The hospital corridors were cold, but the wards were warm. She was covered with a quilt, and her hair, still wet from the bath, lay under her head. She pulled back the quilt slightly, stretched out her arm, and then carefully loosened her hair.
Under the dim light in the ward, Mo Jingshen could see the scalds on the back of her hands. Her pale blue hospital gown covered the wound near her wrist, and her hand was wrapped with white medical gauze.
"Nanheng has many friends who are often injured, so he knows some good doctors. I asked him to get some medicine that can remove this scar. You'll need to apply the medicine every day." He whispered, sounding calm, but there was a hint of pain in his voice.
