He closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing, but the pain still lingered in his body, preventing him from fully relaxing.
Shen Jintang slightly raised her head, glanced at Shen Huaixu, but said nothing. She simply picked up the clean cloth that had been prepared and began to bandage his wound.
Her movements were skilled and swift, her fingers gently wrapping around the wound, each circle just right, neither too tight nor too loose.
Shen Huaixu lay there in a daze, only able to feel Shen Jintang's faint breath spraying on him.
The scent carried a faint herbal aroma, yet it inexplicably made him feel an indescribable unease.
He tried to move his body, but it felt like all his strength had been drained away. He was too lazy to even move his fingers and could only let Shen Jintang do as she pleased.
Shen Jintang acted quickly, and soon the wound was bandaged tightly. Then he casually picked up Shen Huaixu's clothes and covered him with them.
The clothes fell onto his body, and Shen Huaixu frowned slightly, but he didn't have the strength to say anything.
"Thanks."
After resting for a while, Shen Huaixu spoke in a low voice, which was hoarse and weak.
He turned his head slightly to look at Shen Jintang, his eyes filled with a hint of weariness and gratitude.
Shen Jintang simply nodded slightly, her eyes cold, and then began to clean up the blood-stained things on the ground.
Her movements were clean and efficient as she carefully collected the bloodstained rags and dagger, as if nothing had happened.
Shen Huaixu watched Shen Jintang's busy figure with a complicated expression in his eyes, as if he had a thousand words to say but didn't know where to begin.
His gaze lingered on Shen Jintang, but he remained silent.
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