Wei Anning lay across his legs, her entire back exposed to the man's view, covered with clusters of red bumps, which appeared shockingly severe.
Leng Youchen's phoenix eyes unconsciously showed a trace of heartache, some of the bumps had been scratched open by her, the blood and flesh messily stuck together, a ghastly sight to behold.
He reached out to touch, "Does it hurt?"
"Not hurt, itchy." Wei Anning's body trembled lightly, she turned her head to one side, looking at the azure sky outside the window, she urged, "Hurry up and apply the medicine."
Leng Youchen dipped his fingertip in the ointment and gently spread it across her skin. The skin beneath his fingertips was no longer smooth like silk; wherever he touched, tiny bumps emerged.
These rashes would not heal in less than ten days or half a month.
