When Ye Qiao saw his wound, she felt as if her heart was clenched. The suture pulled his bare flesh together. Between each stitch, the wound was split open like a mouth, and the edges of the wound were red and swollen - obvious signs of inflammation!
"How is this nothing? It is clearly very serious! You got so many stitches!" Although she scolded him, Ye Qiao was clearly worried.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed while Ye Qiao bent over to examine his wound with teary eyes. She was holding a tweezer, and between the tweezer was a cotton ball soaked in iodophor. Her hand kept trembling as she tried to help him.
"Little girl... are you crying again!?" He put on a calm look on his face and teased her. Taking away her tweezer, he pressed the cotton ball on his wound and rubbed it vigorously. He did not even flinch before it was done!
A tough guy was indeed a tough guy.