Yuan Lin spoke helplessly from the side, "Madam, stop messing around. We can't stay in Yuzhou for long."
There were words he kept to himself. With your current ghostly appearance—gray, dirty braids, big earrings, heavy makeup, and scanty clothing—
even the gangsters couldn't be bothered with you, let alone boys from small towns like Jiang Ning, who would steer clear and avoid you altogether.
Wei Zishan said earnestly, "It's precisely because we can't stay long that I can't afford to leave with any regrets."
...
In the Old City, a dilapidated two-story house with an old courtyard.
Inside the bedroom, Brother Cheng was using cotton balls and iodine to wipe his wounds.
Occasionally, when he touched the deeper cuts, the pain would make him hiss in distress.
It wasn't just him; Xiao Wang with his dark face, Yellow Hair, and the gloomy young man were all there.
Brother Cheng often got into fights, so there was a good stock of medical supplies for wound dressing at home.
