After everything was over, Su Chaoyang cradled her with one arm and washed her off. Mu Xiangwan, now so limp she couldn't even stand, leaned against his chest and asked sweetly in a soft voice, "Are you done being angry now…"
Su Chaoyang's movements were gentle, as though she were a fragile porcelain doll. When he noticed her fingertips bleeding again, he frowned in distress and replied stiffly, "…Still just a little bit."
"Tch! So petty!" Mu Xiangwan huffed coldly.
Su Chaoyang wiped her body dry, helped her over to a dry spot, and noticed how she clung to him like a vine. He chided her sharply, "Stand properly! Don't fall!"
She pouted and stood still, waiting for the man to clean her up entirely before he carried her back to the bedroom.
