But her emotions were quickly reined in, and she said noncommittally with her head lowered:
"So what? It's just a title."
Qiao Xu had a guilty look in her eyes and continued to stare at Lu Moqing's injury, intentionally avoiding his burning, probing gaze.
"Just a title?"
Lu Moqing let out a soft chuckle and gently brushed away the strands of hair covering Qiao Xu's forehead. His fingertips, covered in a thin layer of gauze, grazed her delicate skin, stirring a faint, ticklish sensation.
Qiao Xu's body involuntarily shuddered, and she turned her face to the side, avoiding Lu Moqing's touch.
"Then I'll call you 'wife' from now on. You won't mind, right? After all, it's just a title."
"You..."
Qiao Xu was left speechless by Lu Moqing's words, her face flushed, as she couldn't find a strong argument to refute him.
She furrowed her brows, moved her lips several times as if wanting to say something but held back, and continued to suture his wounds with a pretense of calm.
