A roar went off in Qin Muye's head.
He lowered his head and saw his own blood run over his thin lips and drip down his chin.
One drop, two drops...
The blood landed on the girl's soft, fair skin, like crimson roses blooming in the snow.
Qin Muye was mesmerized, and the blood gushed from his nose even faster.
Seeing his dazed expression, Jiang Qingli pushed him away, stood up, and grabbed a wet wipe to clean his face.
Qin Muye didn't want her treating him like a child; that was hardly befitting of a mature male.
However, the "mature male" had barely turned his head a few inches when the girl, still standing, grabbed his chin and yanked it back.
Jiang Qingli frowned in warning. "Don't move. Be good, hmm?"
Qin Muye: "...Mhm."
The girl bent over, her movements gentle as she wiped his face.
They were very close, and Qin Muye could clearly see the focused, serious expression on her face.
