"Just because something does not hurt does not mean it is fine, Xin'er." He said, the baritone timbre of his voice sending a wave of something unknown down Li Xinyuan's body. He was saying those words as a retort but to the surgeon it sounded like a reprimand.
For a moment, Li Xinyuan felt embarrassment set in. After living in this world for years, his perception of 'hurt' had undergone significant changes. Though none of them applied to other people's well-being, they did apply to Li Xinyuan himself.
Like the hypocrite he was.
Li Xinyuan licked his lips, wetting the soft flesh as he curled his injured hand into a fist and tried to pull it out of the protagonist's grasp.
"Who told My Liege that?" He asked instead, curious. Last time he checked, Liu Mingyun didn't seem like the person to make sense of things like that.
