Song Yinyin covered her forehead and snapped at him in annoyance, "That really hurts!"
He reached out and hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her back toward him. "Don't move!"
He was finishing up, his movements elegant and smooth, but the gauze he wrapped looked incredibly ugly.
Song Yinyin stared blankly at her thumb, which had been wrapped up like a rice dumpling, completely speechless.
Lu Jihan, looking like a professional doctor, reminded her unhurriedly, "Don't get it in cold water, in case it gets infected. Did you hear me clearly?"
There seemed to be concern in his words.
Song Yinyin pursed her lips and said awkwardly, "It's just a little injury, really nothing serious."
"A small injury is still an injury!" His face suddenly darkened, and the chill that had just receded settled over him again. "You can still die from tetanus!"
Knowing he was still angry, Song Yinyin obediently nodded. "Oh."
