"Don't get agitated. What's going on exactly? Let me take a look, will you? Come on, lift the quilt." Song Yun walked to the bedside, trying to console her.
"No. I don't want anyone to see it. Go, all of you go, leave me alone."
"Xiao Qing, why are you acting like a child, being so irrational? It's not healed yet; how do you know it can't be healed? If the hospital can't heal you, I still can. Come, let me see the wound." Song Yun sat on the edge of the hospital bed, gently trying to pull the quilt back.
"No. I don't believe it. I don't trust anyone. Brother Yun, just leave me alone, I beg you. Leave with them. Don't look at me, I feel disgusting myself." Xiao Qing said with a choked voice, her pale hands gripping the corners of the quilt tightly, refusing to let Song Yun uncover the quilt and expose her wound.
