"Stop it!"
Sang Yan's face flushed as she helped him sit up properly, "Your wound needs to be re-dressed."
He Ying nodded and let her tend to his bandages.
Actually, he didn't mean to cause trouble; he just wanted to kiss and hug her.
He hadn't kissed or hugged anyone for a very long time.
He missed it terribly.
He couldn't help but lower his head, resting his chin on the nape of her neck, inhaling her scent.
Unfortunately, while this made him comfortable, Sang Yan was not.
His feverish breath scorched the skin of her neck.
Sang Yan felt itchy all over, body and heart alike, forcing her to pat his head, "Stop moving around."
He Ying looked up at her, his eyes reflecting a wronged expression, "I didn't move."
Sang Yan: "..."
She had no idea what to do with him.
All she could do was bear with it and finish dressing his wound.
"I'm going to check how the medicine is boiling."
She found an excuse to hop off the bed, planning her escape.
But it wasn't successful.
