She moved too drastically and accidentally tugged at the wound again, the pain causing her to grimace and inhale sharply.
"Sit still, don't move," Ming Yihan turned around and said helplessly, looking at her.
"Should I help you with it now?" Ming Yihan raised an eyebrow and asked indifferently as he looked at Zhiyan.
Ming Yihan held Zhiyan still, instructing her not to fidget. They were extremely close, his intense masculine scent boldly invading Zhiyan's consciousness. Her eyes trembled, staring blankly as the demonically handsome face enlarged before her own.
"Do you want me to help you, or will you do it yourself?" Ming Yihan's hand, which had reached her waist, suddenly paused as he asked Zhiyan in an indifferent tone.
"You do it," Zhiyan blurted out almost reflexively, and the man's lips curved slightly, his deep blue pupils shining with a touch of warmth.
"Be gentle, it hurts," Zhiyan's body tensed up a bit.
