"You..." An Jing still looked at the fresh red on her hand, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "You're bleeding."
But Xiao Changyi heard her, held An Jing even tighter in one arm, while the other quickly wiped off his blood that had stained her hand.
Once he wiped it off, he soothed again, "I'm alright, Jing Er."
With An Jing's hand now clean, free of the bright red, An Jing couldn't see it anymore, but she buried herself into Xiao Changyi's arms, hugging him tightly, as if embedding Xiao Changyi into her body, or embedding herself completely into his.
Xiao Changyi's thin lips were pressed into a straight line; if she wasn't happy, he wouldn't be happy either.
But now, what worried him more was her.
He was worried about her.
"I'm really fine, Jing Er," Xiao Changyi comforted her for the third time, stroking the head of the person buried in his embrace.
"My lord," An Jing finally spoke up, her voice low, frail, and muffled, "Can we please not farm anymore?"
