The wound on Yin Shen's hand is on the palm, likely cut by porcelain, not deep but long, almost stretching across the entire palm, with fresh blood seeping out.
"Do you have any medicine?"
Yin Shen called for someone to bring the medicine over.
The palace attendant brought the items in, didn't dare look at the people in the room, and soon left.
Chuzheng began to clean his wound.
"Hiss..."
When disinfecting, Yin Shen flinched his hand back from the pain.
Chuzheng pressed his wrist, "Don't move."
Chuzheng paused for a moment, asking him, "Does it hurt a lot?"
Yin Shen originally intended to say it wasn't a problem, but swallowed his words and nodded, "Mm."
"Hang in there."
"..."
Chuzheng quickly bandaged him up, tossed the items aside, and wiped her hands with the nearby napkin.
"Be more careful next time, don't injure yourself." Chuzheng's tone still had no fluctuations, but there was a hint of dissatisfaction.
