Lin Qiao felt a warning bell go off in her heart; the antagonist was suspecting her. She nodded and said aggrievedly, "Wei Yun, I heard you were locked up. I was worried, so I went to plead with him."
Her delicate and charming face showed undisguised concern. Song Tingfan pressed his lips together and didn't ask anything more. "Next time, don't go begging others. Nothing will happen."
Of course, Lin Qiao knew what he meant, but she pretended not to understand and gave him a sidelong glance, "How can nothing happen? You've been locked up for several days already."
"Has the medicine been applied to your chest?"
"No."
Song Tingfan raised his hand and undid his belt, revealing his inner clothes, and soon his robust waist and a hideous scar on his chest appeared.
Lin Qiao: "..."
The antagonist was becoming more and more shameless.
She took out a bottle of medicine, applied some ointment to the scar, which hadn't quite closed up yet, fearing it might leave a mark in the future.
