Gu Shaocheng glanced at her, then turned and sprawled on the nearby tatami mat. Assuming a languid pose, he held still, allowing her to use tweezers to painstakingly remove the shards of glass embedded in his calves and arms.
"Shaocheng, does it hurt?"
She wasn't sure if she was causing him pain because, from start to finish, he hadn't made a sound.
Gu Shaocheng was exhausted; he hadn't had a good night's sleep in days. As her breath seeped into his nostrils, he could not help but feel drowsy. He was too tired to respond, feeling annoyed at his soft-heartedness and her relentless nagging, yet he couldn't help but find a small measure of comfort in it.
"I'll try to be as gentle as possible. If I hurt you, you need to tell me, because otherwise, I wouldn't know."
Chenxing didn't get an answer. She had no choice but to lower her head and continue treating his wounds.
Her heart was in turmoil.
She could not understand what his thoughts were.
