Fortunately, three military doctors arrived, and because they spread out, there were no conflicts.
Following the gesture of a military doctor, Mo Shangjun took off her jacket.
Having just greeted the pilot, Ya Tianxing returned to see Mo Shangjun's injuries and his expression couldn't help but freeze.
There was a slash on her shoulder, not deep, but blood had soaked half of her short sleeve; both arms were dotted with cuts, bruises, and contusions, leaving none of her originally fair skin untouched.
Especially that right hand.
All five fingers were torn and lacerated, the flesh mangled, making it difficult to distinguish skin from muscle—it was a ghastly sight.
The military doctor examined the injuries with an impassive face, then asked her, "Do you need anesthesia?"
Though not life-threatening, the wounds must have been very painful.
He had just realized that the patient was a woman.
"No need."
Mo Shangjun responded calmly.
