She had just finished speaking when she felt a gentle breeze blow across her knee.
Fu Jinghen was blowing air softly as he wiped her knee more and more delicately.
Wen Qiao felt satisfied immediately, resting her chin on the knee of her other leg, tilting her head as she looked at Fu Jinghen.
After a while, she suddenly asked, "Fu Jinghen, are you being so nice to me because I helped Wen Shu this time? Ouch— are you trying to murder me!"
A sudden pain shot through her injured knee, hurting so much that Wen Qiao immediately grimaced.
"What are you doing!"
"Because you're talking nonsense, I'm trying to snap you out of it."
Fu Jinghen didn't even look up as he took some gauze from the medicine box and began to wrap it around Wen Qiao's knee, round and round.
"Isn't that the case?" Wen Qiao whimpered with a wronged little hum, "I cooked for you and got hurt before, but you didn't blow on it for me, how come you're so easy to talk to now?"
