Shen zhicai heard her voice and raised his head. He did not dare to move.
"Not good, chengjing!" He saw someone familiar and quickly said.
Shen chengjing was kind enough to bring a mirror to him. Shen zhicai looked at himself and really wanted to kill himself.
His butt was injured, his arms were dislocated, his nose was swollen, his mouth was swollen, his face was stabbed, and there were dozens of wounds on his body. He was committing a living sin.
"Cheng." At this moment, mo Yancheng had been looking for her. He could not find her, so he directly walked over.
Seeing that she was talking to Shen zhicai, she quickly walked over.
"Cheng, help me roll up my sleeves. My hands are dirty." Mo Yanchen was cooking and noticed that his sleeves were not rolled up. He walked toward her with a knife.
"Alright," he said. Shen chengjing turned around and rolled up his sleeves.
