Lu Shaoming held her white fingertips. H had a frown on his face as he looked at the wound on her palm. The skin had been grazed, and it had already become a scab. The pink scar was not ugly, but it occupied a large area on her palm, and it made others pity her. It made him think of the moment when she got the injury; it must have been bloody and heart wrenching.
Lu Shaoming lowered his gaze and kissed the scar on her palm, and his eyes were full of pity and warmth as he said, "Does it hurt?"
Ning Qing's small face was crimson red. His thin lips kissed her palm and it made her soften. She bit down on her pink lips and shook her head coolly. "It doesn't hurt at all."
The girl was very obedient, probably because she was afraid that he would take pity on her, so she shook her head very vigorously. She was very foolish and very naïve.
"Did you get hurt anywhere else?" he asked gently.
