Gong Ting glanced down at the ointment in his hand, got up, and brought over a basin of hot water to clean her wound.
He knelt on the bed with one knee, lifted the quilt, and she was wearing his shirt, which he had put on her before the family doctor arrived. Other than that, she was almost bare, making it convenient for him to apply the ointment.
He checked the wound below, it was severely torn, no wonder she kept complaining about the pain.
He looked up at her pale face, a hint of pity appearing in his eyes that even he didn't notice. He squeezed some ointment onto his fingertip and gently applied it to the wound.
The woman, still in a daze, frowned and inhaled softly, indicating the pain.
Gong Ting's movements became even gentler. After he finished applying the ointment, he lay on the bed, turned his head to look at her, and thought about how this woman was now completely his. He felt a strange feeling in his heart, hard for even himself to describe.
