Meanwhile, the person who had been sitting in the ambulance, his face originally deathly pale with "blood", was now sitting there, very much alive, with a face full of grievances, tirelessly wiping the "blood" off his face.
With a resentful glance at Qinghe, Gu Che complained, "Qinghe, you really found me a fun job. All this chicken blood on my face and hair is enough to suffocate me. I've been wiping for so long and it's still not clean."
Qinghe looked at him and let out a light "pfft" of laughter. The towel he was using to wipe his face was dry, which made things worse instead of better; his face was covered with red marks and his appearance wasn't much improved from before.
When Gu Che saw her taking pleasure in his misfortune, he puffed up with anger and muttered, "I am, after all, a gentleman of elegance and always clean and tidy. And now I've been made to look like this, all because of you, and you're still laughing."