Fu Yisheng wanted to stop her movements, but it was already too late.
Lu Qingqing was both anxious and furious, filled with an immeasurable amount of distress.
"It's this serious? Aliang didn't tell me, and neither did you. If I hadn't lifted the blanket to look, would you have kept it from me forever?"
"I was afraid of scaring you," Fu Yisheng said softly, pulling her hand with his own, "I'm fine, it's just superficial wounds. They look more frightening than they are, but I haven't injured any muscles or bones. Don't believe me? Wait for the doctor, and you can ask him yourself."
Lu Qingqing hadn't slept for over ten hours on the plane, and coupled with the unadjusted jet lag, her eyes were filled with red veins, her temples throbbed, and her head ached terribly, "I don't believe it. How can it just be superficial wounds after being hit by a chandelier? You've even lost your hair. If it's not serious, why didn't you call me right after you were out of danger? Why was it Aliang?"
