"Is his head injured?" Tears welled up in Wen Nuan's eyes. She stood up and carefully parted his hair, her little mouth trembling as if she would burst into tears any moment, "You fool, I told you not to come in."
If it's not on the forehead, then it must be on the head. Although he seems healthy now, she's still very worried. She doesn't want him to get hurt; she'd rather it be herself...
"That blood isn't mine."
She genuinely cares for him; it can't be faked. Her heart is concerned for him. Leng Yan noticed her anxiety, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He happily pulled down her hand that was messing with his hair, wiped her tears, and his brows rose confidently, "The blood belongs to that person. I grabbed his wrist, and he cut himself with the knife. When I leaned down, his blood got on my forehead."
