The house was eerily quiet with no one around at night, and Yingying courageously brought the man into her own room.
The moonlight was a bit cool, spilling through the gaps in the curtains onto the man's face.
Li Guang sat on the bed, intently staring at Yingying.
Yingying was busy tending to his wound, a ghastly deep and long cut from which the blood wouldn't stop. She frowned in concentration.
"Brother."
She looked up, her gaze meeting his.
Yingying swallowed hard, then quickly looked down, her eyelashes fluttering, "This wound on your hand is pretty deep, and the bleeding won't stop. Should we go to the hospital?"
"No need."
His tone was nonchalant.
The wound was so long and deep it looked painful just to see it, but it seemed like he couldn't feel any pain at all.
Not a trace of expression on his face.
Maybe it's because they, as firefighters, often get injured. After a while, they become numb to it.
