Medal
編輯: Atlas Studios
When they returned to the cabin, Xing Chen placed Qiao An on the bed. With the help of the incandescent lamp, he checked Qiao An's bare arms and legs. Her ankle was cut by thorns.
Xing Chen's heart ached. He rubbed his fingers gently over the dense wounds. "Does it hurt?"
Qiao An said, "It didn't hurt earlier, but it does now."
Xing Chen gathered some hemostatic grass outside the wooden house and crushed it with his fingers before gently applying it to the wound.
Seeing him treat Qiao An so gently, Xing Xiaoya was crazy with jealousy.
"Brother Xing Chen, this small wooden house is only enough for one person. If she stays here tonight, where will she sleep?"
Qiao An stared at Xing Chen in shock. "The two of you…"
Xing Chen knew that she had misunderstood the situation and explained impatiently, "I live here alone. For some reason, the two of you ran up the mountain together tonight."
Qiao An was relieved.