"You must be really skilled at fighting to show just these small bruises after taking on so many people at once," Zhao Hongyan commented, turning around with purpose as she deftly opened the first aid kit.
Song Shoushan had taken over dinner duty, picking up where Zhao Hongyan had left off, the lingering effects of the previous incident.
Zhang Wei couldn't believe that someone like Song Shoushan could even cook, but it seemed she had been taught by Zhao Hongyan, perhaps under some kind of duress.
Feng Xinyue remained composed in the living room, her gaze fixed on Zhang Wei's hands, those tiny bruises telling a story known only to her. She extended her small hands, clenched them into a fist, then slowly released them, revealing the depth of her thoughts.
Zhang Wei chuckled in response to Zhao Hongyan's question, "I am 'good' at fighting." His gaze was focused, an ambiguous intensity as it lingered on the alluring figure of Zhao Hongyan.
