His cold, clear voice came from behind.
For some reason, at this moment, it sounded both muffled and hoarse.
Leng Yu Yan halted her steps, but without turning her head, she said, "Suit yourself! After all, it's Your Highness's finger. If Your Highness doesn't cherish it, what can anyone else's consoling do?"
Ye Yiheng looked down, his voice quiet, "The blood stained on the palm of my hand, you cleaned it for me."
Seeing she did not move, he continued, "Since you said wounds should not touch water and I fear others might not clean it well, I must trouble the Commandery Princess."
Reluctantly, Leng Yu Yan returned to the table and sat down, took a cloth, dampened it, and delicately wiped the palm of his hand.
Unexpectedly, he twisted his wrist, grabbing her hand firmly.
"What are you doing?" Leng Yu Yan exclaimed, immediately struggling, trying to pull her hand free from his palm, "Let go of me!"
