"I'll remove the poison for you first, and then take you to the hospital once we get off the mountain," Mo Xiuchen said softly.
"The wound isn't too deep. A little disinfection and some medication would suffice. We don't need to go to the hospital." At this point, it was already late at night and going to the hospital would be quite a bother, Wen Ran reasoned.
Mor Xiuchen's brows furrowed as his gaze fixated on her wounded cheek and said firmly: "No. we have to go to the hospital. We can't risk a scar forming on your face."
Wen Ran didn't speak, as the pain surged when the iodine-soaked cotton swab made contact with her wound, causing her to subconsciously clench her teeth and furrows her brows.
"Stop biting your lip, you've already torn it," Mo Xiuchen—his brows knit—said to her, his eyes filled with concern.
The warmth that spread from his fingertip on her lip startled Wen Ran and she immediately ceased her biting.
