"Okay." Jing Hao responded, gently holding her hand, as if he had a thousand words to say, yet didn't know where to start: "Xiao Mo..."
Qiao Mo's fingertips twitched slightly, only feeling that his hand wasn't as warm as Fu Nancheng's.
Jing Hao's gaze fell on her hand, once again stunned.
A shallow red scar on the white wrist was shocking, and even in the palm, there were deep and shallow marks of cuts.
Qiao Mo didn't notice his gaze, weakly asking again: "Did they catch the driver? And the murderer…"
He snapped back, unsure if he was agreeing or it was true: "Mm, rest assured, they've both been caught."
"That's good… that's good…"
Listening to the two chatting idly, Fu Nancheng stood silently by the window, neither interrupting nor stopping them.
Not long after, a doctor came in to say that the ward had been arranged and transfer was possible.
