Was he really just a pretty boy skilled at sweet-talking women?
Lin Shiyan was nearly obsessed, what had this man been through? He seemed so ordinary, so plain, yet he emitted a hint of mystery.
"Hey, have you stared enough? If you keep this up, I might just bleed to death," Wang Dadong clamored, a touch of pride appearing on his face.
He hadn't expected the proud Goddess to be so mesmerized by him.
Only then did Lin Shiyan snap out of her myriad of thoughts and began to disinfect Wang Dadong's wound with alcohol.
"Shouldn't we go to the hospital instead?" Holding the needle and thread, Lin Shiyan's delicate hands trembled slightly.
Her brows furrowed tightly, it hurt her just to look.
"If you want to ease my pain, sing me a song," Wang Dadong said with a faint smile on his face as though it was not his arm about to be stitched.
"I can't sing," Lin Shiyan bit her lip and said.