Ye Anqi got into Bei Jingshen's car.
The motorcade set off, driving out of the manor—
After they left, the helicopter hovering over the manor also took off.
Under the gloomy sky, the grand Satan Manor looked desolate, like an ancient, historical oil painting weathered with age.
"Qiqi, let me see your wound," Bei Jingshen requested in the car.
"It's not necessary, I'm fine."
"You've lost a lot of blood."
Ye Anqi's straight, snow-white left leg was blurred with fresh blood.
"I'm really okay," she said indifferently, not caring at all.
Bei Jingshen stretched out his hand, "Let me see, you need to apply some medicine!"
"Young Master Bei, thank you for your concern, but I'm fine." Ye Anqi pushed his hand away.
The man glared, "Why doesn't Qiqi take better care of herself?"
Ye Anqi laughed, "I'm really fine, it's already stopped bleeding."
"You've bled so much, the wound must be deep. Doesn't it hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt." This amount of pain was nothing.
