Mu Qian's profound black eyes met hers, and Wen Jiaren's brow furrowed even tighter, "Can't we use our blood? I can draw a bit more."
She couldn't stand the sight of that sharp blade slicing through Mu Xiao's wrist. She used to not bear it, and now even less so.
He shook his head slightly, "Xiao'er's blood merges with my yin energy and your yang energy, and he is also closely related to his aunt; his blood is the most crucial, we are merely assisting."
Then they heard Mu Xiao say, "It's okay, Jiaren, I'm not afraid of the pain. Dad, you can take it."
Mu Qian glanced at the little guy, then his gaze fell on Wen Jiaren's face, as if seeking her consent.
Wen Jiaren was not unreasonable, but if possible, she wished to take that cut for Mu Xiao. After hearing Mu Qian's words, she said no more and raised her hand to rub the little guy's head, "My Xiao'er is so brave, just like his dad, a real man."
Mu Qian's gaze fixed on her, deep and affectionate as the ocean.
