Lai Jiayi subconsciously closed her eyes. Her body tensed, and all blood rushed to her head, yet she couldn't move.
The girl just gave up on anything that would happen when a few seconds passed by, and she only felt a gentle, cooling cloth rubbing against the corner of her lips.
"Look, your lips are wounded here."
"A-ah?" Lai Jiayi slowly opened her eyes and saw the man's serious face in front of her.
Zhao Yang frowned. He gently wiped Lai Jiayi's lips with his glove. Still, since his fingers weren't covered by it, his skin occasionally grazed Lai Jiayi's lips.
He looked so focused right now even though he was just rubbing her wound, trying to clean the blood.
'...what the…'
Lai Jiayi clutched her chest. Her heart pounded fast again, and cold sweat started to drench her back, but this time, she didn't feel like vomiting.
