"Didn't I say I will pick you up? It's just a minor injury, don't worry," he said as he pressed a tissue against the wound. Blood seeped through the flimsy material.
"You can't ignore your injury so that you can pick me up! I'm worried about you, and you are making me worry more by doing this." Song Yu removed his hand from his head, checking the wound. It was not as bad as she thought it would be. She breathed a sigh of relief.
However, the fact that the bleeding did not stop worried her. "It's still bleeding. You need to disinfect and stop the bleeding, not just mop it up with a tissue."
The cut on Qi Chengzhi's forehead was the size of a Nin Jiom Herbal Cough Syrup bottle top. The wound was small, but it did not stop Song Yu from worrying about it.
Qi Chengzhi masked his pain in hopes of belaying her worries, but she could not stop her emotions as she stared at his handsome face now marred.
It had to have hurt—it was an open wound after all.
