The Blonde Lady, with unwillingness in her heart, glared fiercely at Lu Xizhou, "Who are you?"
Lu Xizhou withdrew his foot, nonchalantly fiddling with his fingers, and smiled at her, "Who I am, do you have the right to know?"
That tone was arrogantly unworldly.
Naturally, he had the capital to be arrogant.
Lu Xizhou walked over to Yuran, looked at her indifferently, "Besides the wound on your forehead, do you feel uncomfortable anywhere else?"
He had brought a doctor with him when he arrived. Without waiting for Yuran to respond, he immediately gestured for the doctor to come over and check on her. Yuran was not seriously injured; she had just inhaled some anesthetic drugs earlier and was still experiencing some aftereffects.
The doctor treated the wound on her forehead briefly, then left disgruntled.
Standing quietly on the side, waiting.
