Suture the wound?
This made Mo Yunchen a little confused.
Does the wound need stitches?
Before he could ask, alcohol was wiped on the wound. The pain made his face flush red, and blood was oozing from his bitten lips.
That expression of unbearable endurance was like constipation.
Ah...it hurts...hold on, don’t scream!
Mo Yunchen felt very uncomfortable, but he still let out a trembling "ah" from his mouth, and his hands tightly grasped his trouser legs.
"Ah~~Are you okay? Can I not apply this medicine?"
The trembling voice was so enchanting that Yun Jian couldn't help but shiver.
When did the master become like this?
It's not like there were times when I cried out in pain after getting hurt, but... but not like this...
Seeing him mumbling and twisting his body slightly, Jiang Mengli slapped him in the face with some displeasure, "Are you thinking about a man? Don't move! If you move again, I'll have to tie you up with a rope."
Mo Yunchen's face was full of black lines, and he said in a firm tone: "I won't move, you go ahead!"
Wen Mohan, who was standing next to him, smiled slightly, already going crazy with joy in his heart.
Take it slow, fake!
Jiang Mengli sped up and after applying alcohol, he began to use needle and thread to suture the deeper whip wounds.
It was extremely torturous for Mo Yunchen. He wanted to run away immediately, but he had to endure it.
By the time his injury was treated, he had already fainted from the pain.
Jiang Mengli stretched his neck, stood up and packed up the medicine box. "Send it to where he lived before. His Royal Highness the Crown Prince wants to live here."
Upon hearing this, Yun Jian immediately carried Mo Yunchen on his back to the tent where many people lived, including General Tang and two deputy generals.
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