"Wretched son!"
Yu Longshou's gaze was equally intense, the father and son were as confrontational as fire and water.
If looks could kill, their eyes were blades and swords, enveloped in smoke.
Yu Chiyin pressed his lips coldly together, possibly due to blood loss, his complexion appeared somewhat pale.
The tissue pressed against his forehead quickly became stained with blood.
Lu Fengxuan swapped it for a new batch of tissues, she looked at him, her brows furrowing with worry, and said anxiously:
"No way, you must go to the hospital at once for the injury on your head, stand up, I'll get someone to drive you there, I can handle the rest by myself."
As she spoke, she gathered her things and attempted to pull Yu Chiyin up.
At this moment, Yu Chiyin's large hand reached over and grasped her wrist, his fingers slightly tightening, and the warm touch of his palm was reassuring.
