A crisp sound rang out, and Jiang Youchen froze.
A look of bewilderment flashed in his eyes. He rarely felt so at a loss.
Jiang Qingli seldom looked at him this way. Her gaze was practically that of a stranger.
He bent down to meet her gaze, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt? Let me see..."
Just as he drew near, Jiang Qingli suddenly reached out and pressed his shoulder.
Caught off guard, Jiang Youchen let out a muffled grunt. He watched as she pulled her hand back, now covered in blood.
"What is this?" Jiang Qingli asked.
She looked like a teacher on the verge of an outburst, interrogating a delinquent student.
Jiang Youchen answered honestly, "Blood."
But this straightforward answer did not satisfy Jiang Qingli.
She touched his side, then his back. Both times, her hand came away bloody.
Jiang Qingli stared at him, then pointed to the figures sprawled on the ground. "Why didn't you let me fight them with you? These people came to kill us."
