Hearing this, Ji Mingqian let out a sigh of relief and rolled over to get up.
He lifted his eyes to the distance, where the black car had long since disappeared without a trace.
Jiang Yisheng stood up and, under the dim light of the street lamps, his gaze swept over Ji Mingqian, and his expression changed slightly.
"Ji Mingqian, you…"
The black pants were torn, and at the knee, fresh blood mixed with dirt was evident—he had clearly taken a bad fall.
Especially on the back, his white short-sleeved shirt was also torn, with small stones piercing through the fabric and embedding into his skin. A large area was bleeding profusely, a shocking sight to behold.
"It's nothing, just a minor injury," Ji Mingqian said nonchalantly, taking out his phone to send a message.
Standing behind him, Jiang Yisheng saw the bloodied wound and felt a mixture of emotions.
