"All right."
Qiao Jing then pulled her thoughts back, her gaze resettling on the man's back.
Not only were there bruises from scrapes on the wound, but there were also some small fissures where the blood had already clotted, with some gravel still adhering to it.
She frowned slightly, poured some antiseptic into her palm, and gently pressed her palm against Zhan Qipei's back. She then began to gently press down, spreading the antiseptic over the wounds.
Zhan Qipei couldn't see Qiao Jing's face at the moment, but he could feel the slightly cool palm of her hand moving across his back.
He slightly curved the corners of his lips and then arched his back to allow the girl's palm to fully press against his back.
Worried about hurting the wound, Qiao Jing immediately withdrew her hand.
"Don't arch your back."
Zhan Qipei made an "oh" sound and settled down.
Once Qiao Jing saw Zhan Qipei had stopped fidgeting, she began to disinfect the wound again.
