Although puzzled, Tang Li still hummed in acknowledgment.
Then, she saw the man reaching out his hand.
When the towel touched her forehead, Tang Li unconsciously wanted to dodge, but Song Baiyan's magnetic voice came from above her head: "After all, it's a chemical product, and the wound hasn't fully healed yet. You should be more careful on normal days."
The towel still carried the man's scent.
Tang Li was slightly stunned, yet her gaze couldn't help but be drawn to the man in front of her.
She remembered that rainy night, the tea-scented private room, Song Baiyan also stood in front of her like this.
The only difference was her feelings.
Besides being nervous, there was also a slight, indescribable sentiment.
This sentiment felt like shyness, but not entirely; it made her feel somewhat helpless.
Because of this discomfort, she took the initiative to say, "I'd better wipe it myself."
Her voice was low and unnatural.
