Anna blushed at Mo Xing's teasing comment, feeling her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and stubbornness. She narrowed her eyes, feigning anger, and lightly slapped his arm. "You… how could you be thinking about such things when you're obviously in pain?" she huffed, her voice a mix of mock annoyance and concern.
Mo Xing chuckled softly, but then, all at once, his expression grew serious. He took Anna's hand, his grip firm but gentle, and guided it to his stomach, pressing her palm against the wound still covered in gauze. He held her hand there, letting her fingers lightly graze the edges of the injury, his eyes never leaving her face.
