Baili Xia didn't dare to look at him, her head still hanging low, an expression of heartache on her face, "The real problem is, he doesn't want his wound to heal at all."
"What do you mean?" Mu Xiaojiu frowned, his fingertips tensing slightly.
Baili Xia finally looked up at him, a hint of resentment in her eyes.
"It's definitely because you refused to say a word of forgiveness; he thought you were still angry, gave up on himself, and stopped caring about his wound—it's all your fault."
"When did I ever say that he shouldn't care for it? He cut himself with a knife; I couldn't even stop him in time."
That guy is stubborn as hell; he didn't say anything at the time, he just felt guilty.
After confirming that the girl was out of danger, he took a knife and injured himself like that.
But from start to finish, the two really hadn't said much; Nangong Xu was just clear in his heart—he already knew who had donated blood to him last time.
