After a while, He Chen dragged Yin Mo out of the ward.
Li Qiao slowly walked to the window, looking at Xiao Yehui with a faint expression, "A ruse of self-injury doesn't seem like your style."
At this moment, Xiao Yehui looked rather miserable.
Yin Mo didn't hold back her blows, leaving his handsome face bruised and battered.
Xiao Yehui touched his swollen cheekbone, his eyes red as he chuckled softly, "No matter what I do, do you always think I have ulterior motives?"
Li Qiao turned her head away, looking calmly at her toes, "Even with an injured leg, you should still have had the strength to fight back."
Xiao Yehui remained sitting upright in the wheelchair, his posture rigid and stiff.
His Adam's apple moved, his lips tightened and relaxed repeatedly, as if he wanted to speak, yet remained silently enigmatic.
Neither of them knew how much time passed as they sat in wordless confrontation.
