Zong Fang clearly didn't believe her, and his way of verifying was very direct— he bit his own wrist on the spot and, seeing that the wound indeed did not heal, he showed the most genuine smile he had in many days.
No matter how much Qiao Suisui coaxed afterward, the man refused to comply.
She had thought that transferring the self-healing ability to herself would set Zong Fang at ease, but the next day, she realized he was still very tense.
"No bleeding, right?"
For the fifth time, she answered him, "No, Zong Fang, don't worry. An occasional miss doesn't matter."
Zong Fang frowned and said, "I can't trust a word you say."
Fortunately, he had forcibly restrained himself the day before, and hadn't let her lead him astray; otherwise, he would definitely have felt self-reproach today.
Qiao Suisui sat at the breakfast table, swinging her feet, wanting to gloss over the matter, but then she heard the man ask ominously, "Besides self-healing, what other talents have you had?"
