As he spoke, he took the blanket that was draped over the side of the sofa and gently laid it over her legs. Then he knelt on one knee and began to clean the wound on her knee.
Ye Qiao furrowed her brows and finally understood why he had placed the blanket over her—it was because he feared offending her—since she was wearing a very short skirt today.
Thinking of this, she wanted to smile, her lips were just about to curl upwards when pain made her inhale sharply.
When Ji Mo heard her, he hastily apologized.
"I'm sorry, I'll be gentler!"
"It's okay," Ye Qiao said with her face downcast, her gaze lingering on his face for a while, "about last night... I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to lose my temper at you..."
"No!" Ji Mo lifted his face, "The person who should be saying sorry is me, and... you misunderstood me, I wasn't blaming you. It's just that sometimes, being impulsive really isn't a good thing, I just don't want you to get hurt."
