Mrs. Xie rushed forward and cupped Jie Jingchen's face in her hands, her lovely eyes overflowing with worry. "Jing Si, does it hurt terribly? There's already a lump on your forehead. And you, Jie Jianguo! When will you change this habit of resorting to violence at the slightest disagreement? This is an enamel mug. What if it had been a cleaver? Would you have just picked it up and swung it at your own son?"
"Honey, don't you know what he's like?" Mr. Xie cried foul. "He did it on purpose! He got himself hurt on purpose to make you feel bad for him. Honey, don't let him fool you."
"You hurt him, and you think you're in the right?" Mrs. Xie questioned coldly. Gazing at her son's devastatingly handsome face, she felt she would die of heartache if it were scarred. "Jing Si, let me put some ointment on that for you."
