The shutters were tightly shut, and the dusty curtains were drawn. Not a single ray of sunlight could enter the narrow room.
Ye Linlang looked at the incandescent lamp above her head in a daze. She actually had the illusion of being in the middle of the night.
Just as ye Linlang was lost in her thoughts, Jiang Qiran lowered his head and used a cotton swab dipped in disinfectant to pick out the grains of sand on ye Linlang’s head bit by bit.
Ye Linlang sucked in a breath of cold air, her tears flowing out of her eyes.
“Does it hurt like this?”
Jiang Qiran asked in a low voice, his voice gentle as if he was coaxing a child who was much younger than him.
Ye Linlang finally managed to stop the tears in her eyes. Her eyes were red, and her voice was a little intermittent.
“You... you try to be gentler.”
Ye Linlang sobbed slightly.
She lowered her head to look at the bloody wound on her knee. She could not describe what she felt in her heart.
