Chu Wuyang and Jin Xuan were led into the lounge. Mo Sangyu thoughtfully arranged for someone to bring them tea and said apologetically with a smile,
“I have already contacted a private doctor, and he will be here soon.”
"Miss Chu, just wait patiently."
Her tone was gentle, her manner appropriate; she even personally took the medicine box and placed it on the coffee table with a soft smile.
"If you can't wait, you can have it done quickly first,"
Chu Wuyang nodded.
"Thanks."
Her palms burned with pain; she hadn't paid much attention before because she was focused on appearances, but now she realized that even her elbows were scraped.
The hem of her skirt was stained with dirt, looking disheveled and jarring.
"You're welcome. Miss Chu helped me today; it's only right."
Mo Sangyu saw that Chu Wuyang was sitting silently, his expression clearly showing suppressed pain, his brows slightly furrowed, and his lips pale.
Thinking that she might not be able to handle it herself, she hesitated for a moment and said softly,
"The doctor may not be here so soon... If Miss Chu doesn't mind, I have some basic nursing skills and can help you treat your wound first."
These words were spoken with just the right amount of tact and consideration.
Chu Wuyang was taken aback by what he heard, his eyes glazing over as if he didn't know how to respond.
Refusing would seem like putting on airs and not trusting the other person's skills.
But if I don't refuse, this attitude makes it seem like I'm the one going to bother taking care of them.
Seeing her furrowed brows, Mo Sangyu assumed she was in unbearable pain.
"It's okay, I really did study it. I was in the first aid association in college—"
Before she finished speaking, she bent down slightly, knees on the ground, and reached out to grab Chu Wuyang's forearm.
Chu Wuyang suddenly seemed to wake up, and whether it was instinct or reflex, he jerked his wrist away.
"--ah!"
Her movements were too sudden, and Mo Sangyu was caught off guard, falling backward.
In that split second,
A black figure suddenly flashed past.
Jing Min, who had been standing by the door at some point, rushed forward almost instinctively and caught Mo Sangyu steadily.
He knelt on one knee, placed one hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with anxious worry.
"Sang Yu, are you alright?"
Mo Sangyu bit her lip lightly, shook her head, and looked still a little shaken.
"I'm fine... I guess I was too sudden and startled Miss Chu."
Jing Min looked at her for a few seconds, then raised his head and glanced at Chu Wuyang.
Chu Wuyang stood there, unable to utter a single word.
She never expected that her instinctive avoidance would lead to this scene.
She watched his hands resting on Mo Sangyu's shoulders—gentle, reassuring, and timely.
Her eyelashes drooped slightly, her lips twitched, and she finally smiled, speaking in a self-deprecating tone.
"I'm sorry, I was just being too sensitive."
Jingmin's voice was low, yet it was so loud it was suffocating.
"If you don't want help, you can just say so,"
“Sang Yu meant well, and you shouldn’t treat her like this.”
Chu Wuyang felt a lump in his throat.
She hadn't done anything wrong, yet it seemed like all the embarrassment and mistakes were hers alone.
She glanced down at the bloodstains on her arm, the smile on her lips vanished, leaving only an empty expression.
"I meant no harm, I just didn't want to trouble Miss Mo."
Jing Min was about to say something when Mo Sangyu tugged at his sleeve.
"Ah Min, don't be so fierce. Miss Chu really didn't mean it. It's my own fault for having a fever and feeling dizzy, which made me lose my balance."
Her voice was somewhat hoarse, and as she spoke, she suddenly staggered, whether from anxiety or dizziness.
Jingmin immediately put his hands on her shoulders.
Mo Sangyu leaned into his arm. Jing Min looked down at her, then reached out and pulled her closer.
"I'll take you to rest. You should rest more when you're sick and have a fever. Don't meddle in other people's business anymore."
Mo Sangyu's lips curled slightly.
“Miss Chu isn’t just anyone; she not only helped me, but also because—”
Jingmin frowned slightly, as if he was getting impatient.
“These things will be done by others; you don’t need to do them.”
His tone was stern, but his touch was incredibly gentle as he carefully helped her stand upright.
"When you're sick, you should lie down and rest, listen to me."
He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
Mo Sangyu looked down at her coat, seemingly savoring the lingering warmth of her body on the fabric.
In an instant, she tilted her head back, her eyelashes casting dappled shadows in the lamplight, and nodded obediently.
Okay, I'll do as you say.
She turned to look at the silent Chu Wuyang, a sincere apology welling up in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Miss Chu, I need to go and rest. I should be doing my duty as a host to stay here with you, but my health is just not cooperating..."
Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly covered her mouth and coughed lightly. Jing Min immediately held her tightly.
"Don't be embarrassed, Miss Mo. You shouldn't be feeling unwell; you should go and rest early. I'm the one who's causing you trouble. Please go ahead."
Chu Wuyang said calmly, her gaze falling on Mo Sangyu's reddened fingertips.
Those hands were unconsciously tugging at Jingmin's shirt cuffs, squeezing the smooth fabric into tiny wrinkles.
"Thank you for your understanding, Miss Chu."
As Mo Sangyu was leaving, she turned back again, her soft voice drifting over.
"Miss Chu, please don't find it troublesome. You must wait here for the doctor to come and treat it. The wound needs to be treated in time."
"A beauty like Miss Chu..."
She paused, a fleeting, elusive emotion flashing in her eyes.
"It would be such a shame if it left a scar."
Chu Wuyang watched the two figures walk away hand in hand, Jing Min's suit jacket hanging loosely on Mo Sangyu's shoulder.
Like a silent declaration,
"OK,"
The door closed without a response. The figure in front seemed not to hear, or perhaps heard but didn't intend to turn around.
The reception room was silent. Chu Wuyang sat alone, unsure whether it was because not much time had passed or because the clock on the wall was malfunctioning and running too slowly.
In short, the minute hand only moved two increments, as if only a few minutes had passed.
But she clearly felt like she had been waiting for a long time. The air was stuffy and heavy, the ceiling seemed to be collapsing, and the walls were getting closer and closer.
She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Finally, she jumped up, pushed open the door, and prepared to leave the suffocating room.
Unexpectedly, there was someone standing outside the door.
The black figure stood straight and abruptly in the doorway, watching Chu Wuyang push the door open and leave.
His face immediately darkened.
"where are you going?"
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