The young man started to carry a tray to Jiang Xiangyang, but Jiang Xiangyang raised his hand: “Du Jian, check her first.”
Du Jian glanced at Jing Xin’s bleeding wound without comment and turned his attention to her.
“I’m fine; his wound is much more serious, treat him first!” Jing Xin insisted.
Jiang Xiangyang, visibly angry, pressed her into a chair and replied, “Shut up, get checked when I say so.”
Jing Xin obediently shut up, not wanting to provoke this hot-tempered man. Remembering how he looked when cutting people, she involuntarily shivered.
Du Jian examined her wound: “It’s nothing. Though it looks serious, it’s just a shallow cut below the ear and won’t leave a scar.”
He cleaned the blood around the wound, causing Jing Xin to gasp from the sharp pain of the cold alcohol. Du Jian smiled and gentled his movements, usually rough when treating men’s wounds.
“Such a small injury and you can’t handle it? It’ll be fine soon, just need some medicine and bandaging,” Du Jian said, sprinkling powder on the wound. He was experienced in handling such injuries, as Xiangyang and his group often got hurt.
Jing Xin touched the wet area on her earlobe and said softly, “Dr. Du, can we not bandage the wound? I’m afraid my mom will worry.”
Du Jian, holding gauze and scissors, was taken aback. “I’m Du Jian, not surnamed Du. And you must bandage the wound. It’s sensitive around the ear and prone to infection.”
“Du Jian, let her go if she doesn’t want bandaging,” Jiang Xiangyang, who had been silent by the window, spoke casually.
Jing Xin glanced at him; his slashed sweater was soaked in blood. He seemed unconcerned, leisurely smoking by the window, his face revealing a wisdom beyond his years.
He extinguished the cigarette, his gaze sweeping past her. Jing Xin quickly lowered her head, her heart racing.
After her wound was treated, she stood and rubbed her stiff neck.
“Wait outside. I’ll take you back,” he said, his voice carrying an irresistible command.
