Drifting Towards You

"You said I don't care about you." Su Xiangwan's face flushed, how could this man become more and more rascal.

Mu Beiting's dark eyes were deep and he looked directly at her grievance and said, "I'm hurt."

Su Xiangwan snorted softly, after all, she had to control him.

Carefully took off his shirt and let him lie on the sofa.

Entering the eye, on the man's vigorous back, there are patches of blue and purple interlaced Taoism, several of which are still mixed with blood stains, and the scars left by the last injury are shocking.

Su Xiangwan's eyes flushed, and her little hand trembled lightly, stroking it up, choked up, "How did it happen."

Mu Beiting lowered his eyes slightly, and slowly said, "I'm going to fight the dragon."

Su Xiangwan was slightly lost, but tears poured down violently.

Legend has it that in order to protect the princess, the warrior went to fight the dragon.

So, is it because of him?

She raised her hand and wiped her tears, pretending to be relaxed: "Is it the dragon that breathes fire?"

"En." He responded.

After taking the cotton ball and iodophor, she whispered: "She's really bad."

Mu Beiting didn't make a sound anymore, but quietly felt her little hand stroke his back.

Her small hands are as delicate and smooth as suet jade, and they are indescribably comfortable when they are out of date.

Su Xiangwan's eye circles were red, and the patches of bruises on his back were staggered, with bruises, all of them appeared one after another.

At a glance, I knew it was smoked by something.

For no reason, she remembered Mrs. Mu's long-head crutch.

When she sees Mrs. Mu again next time, she must burn that stick as a stick of firewood.

She applied the medicine very lightly, but it was not difficult to imagine how painful he would be.

However, he usually likes the men who sell badly the most, without saying a word.

If it weren't for his tight back, she would almost have thought that he didn't hurt that much.

Tears still came out uncontrollably, one by one transparent teardrops, heavy on his back.

Su Xiangwan rubbed randomly and continued to carefully handle the injuries for him.

Hot tears fell on his back, like clusters of charcoal fire, which made him feel distressed.

The room was very quiet, filled with a faint smell of medicine.

I don't know how long it took, she handled the injury on his back, and gently pressed her side face to his back, feeling his temperature.

Mu Beiting turned over and pulled her up from the ground, pressing directly on him.

Su Xiangwan frowned: "Don't make trouble, your back..."

Mu Beiting's voice is low: "Not so squeamish."

"That won't work, it will hurt." She struggled to get up from him.

He directly clamped her with his two long legs, held her waist tightly with his big hands, and said nothing to let her get up.

Her chest was tightly pressed against his chest, his eyes darkened a bit, and his voice hoarse: "Late night, his hands hurt too."

"What's wrong with your hand? Is your hand hurt too?"

Su Xiangwan was stunned when he heard it.

She didn't notice his hand at all, and hurriedly grabbed his big hand to check it carefully.

His large hands are slender and white, and his nails are neatly trimmed, clean and powerful.

Su Xiangwan was a little dazed, and there was no injury on his hand.

She thought for a while, holding his hand more carefully, bit her lower lip and asked: "Did you hurt your bones?"

"No."

"What kind of pain is that? Where is the injury?"

Su Xiangwan talked more and more anxiously, and the tears of anxiousness suddenly dimmed in his eyes.

He bit her small mouth and said in a low voice: "If you use it too much, it hurts."