The man's expression froze, his gaze dark and unfocused as he stared at the girl in front of him, his voice carrying a slight hoarseness as he frowned slightly, "Qiaoqiao, what you think about her and me isn't the case."
Song Qiao released her hand from her waist, raised it to rake through her somewhat disheveled hair, the smile on her face undiminished, her eyes brimming with mockery. Her voice was even hoarser than the man's due to not having drunk water since waking up. Instead of answering, she countered, "Why don't you ask me how I got hurt?"
Lu Jingchen's hand paused by the bed, ready to grasp Song Qiao's hand, and then quickly made a move to firmly grasp her hand. Ignoring her struggle, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, "Hmm, how did you get hurt? Is it because of me?"
