Rong Mochen glanced at Jin Jumo, his gaze cold and laced with hostility.
Jin Jumo's thick lashes fluttered lightly, thinking to herself, this time she might have truly angered him…
Clamping down on her lower lip, Jin Jumo lowered her lashes, sensibly choosing not to make another sound.
Rong Mochen took a white towel out of the basin of hot water and wrung it dry, his long, bony hands lean yet powerful.
He spread open one of Jin Jumo's hands, and when his dark eyes caught sight of the scars on her palm, they darkened. He gently wiped the dirt and blood around her wound with the towel.
The towel was warm, but when it touched the wound, it was somewhat irritating. Jin Jumo instinctively pulled her hand back, her brows knitting together as she looked at Rong Mochen.
Rong Mochen pressed his lips tightly together, his elegant long brows furrowed heavily, not looking at Jin Jumo, "Bear with it."
Jin Jumo stubbornly pushed her lower lip tight, hard-headed, "It doesn't hurt."
