Su Xiaoxiao looked at his frown. "If it hurts, I'll anesthetize you."
"What is it?" the young man asked in confusion.
Su Xiaoxiao switched to a more comprehensible word. "The numbing powder. The medicine that doesn't stops the hurt."
The young man quickly shook his head. "That medicine is very expensive and rare. I can tolerate this minor injury. Leave it to someone more serious."
His wound was not major, but anesthesia was not. He was young, and Su Xiaoxiao wanted to let him use it. If it was an adult man, Su Xiaoxiao would definitely let him bear with it.
Who would have thought that he was actually iron-blooded?
Considering that there was indeed a limit to the anesthetic, Su Xiaoxiao didn't insist.
"I'll try to be quick."
Su Xiaoxiao's actions were very straightforward. After dealing with it for less than half an hour, the young man's entire face was red and his forehead was covered in cold sweat.