Jiang Yanshen's cold face was expressionless, but his heart was beating uncontrollably. It was an unprecedented sense of panic.
Lin Qingqian washed the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. When she came out, she was carrying a medicine box.
Jiang Yanshen sat on the sofa, his back as straight as a tree. When he heard footsteps, he looked up at her, his dark eyes hiding caution.
Lin Qingqian walked in front of him and squatted down. Without saying a word, she opened the medicine box and took out an alcohol cotton, grabbing his wrist.
"Qianqian…"
Jiang Yanshen pursed his lips and his dry voice was interrupted by Lin Qingqian.
"Shut up."
Jiang Yanshen: "…"
Lin Qingqian used an alcohol cotton to disinfect his palm and wiped away the blood near the wound. She then applied ointment and took out a piece of gauze to bandage his wound.
