"Are you planning to rob me or kill me?" Fu Nancheng looked up at the woman in front of him, his voice turning a bit deeper.
Qiao Mo snapped back to reality and quickly turned to find the first aid kit.
By the time she returned with the kit, he was already sitting on the sofa. The bloodstain on his cheek had dried a bit but still lingered on his extraordinarily handsome face, adding a touch of allure.
Qiao Mo quickly opened the first aid kit, glanced at the medication instructions, and then stood somewhat awkwardly beside Fu Nancheng, trying to help check his wound.
Yet he leaned back against the sofa, eyes slightly drooped, clearly showing no intention of cooperating. Qiao Mo was a bit nervous, softly speaking, "Mr. Fu, could you sit up a little? I can't reach your wound."
At her voice, Fu Nancheng lifted his eyelids and indeed straightened his body.
