When Qin Ruohan saw Ye Caitang's lips, an intoxicating smile appeared in his beautiful eyes.
"Okay."
His slender fingers pinned Ye Caitang's messy hair on her cheek behind her ear.
"Good wife."
Ye Caitang: "…"
This feeling was like hitting cotton; it felt very weak.
However, there was an inexplicable sweetness.
She blushed and changed the topic.
"Mr. Qin, you haven't told me if you're injured."
She looked worriedly at the conspicuous blood stains on Qin Ruohan's chest.
"If you're injured, don't put on a brave front. I don't want to be a widow at such a young age."
"Don't worry." Qin Ruohan patted Ye Caitang's head.
His deep voice brimmed with a rare teasing tone as he slowly whispered into Ye Caitang's ear,
"With a wife as beautiful as you, I can't bear to die."
Ye Caitang's delicate little face suddenly turned red.
"…"
Hmph, what a glib-tongued man.