After the failed attempt to pretend to be dead, the sickly child was favored by the treacherous mini

Cheng Yangqiu's eyes were red silently. He did not answer these continuous questions, nor did he know how to answer them.

Xie Nanxing knew better than anyone how to heal from such an injury.

No one could deceive Xie Nanxing on this matter.

In fact, apart from the fact that Xie Nanxing was already in poor health, Shen Jinmo's injuries were much, much more serious than Xie Nanxing's.

Reason and patience are like dead leaves falling on the edge of a cliff. Any gust of wind will blow Xie Nanxing into a place of no return.

But Xie Nanxing suddenly rose up into the air and stood on the hard ground.

He said, "Doctor Cheng, please go and write the prescription. I'll leave Master Shen in your care."

Cheng Yangqiu turned and walked to the table, wiping his tearful eyes repeatedly with his sleeves until his eyes were clear. Then he picked up the pen and wrote down the prescription.

After looking up and giving Yang Huai and Mo Ping some detailed instructions, Cheng Yangqiu finally regained the courage to speak to Xie Nanxing.

"Master Xie, if it is convenient, Cheng will stay in Xie's house for the next few days until Master Shen wakes up."

Xie Nanxing's eyes could only hold Shen Jinmo, whose breathing was so weak. It took half a cup of tea for the words spoken by Cheng Yangqiu to enter Xie Nanxing's mind.

Xie Nanxing turned back stiffly, looked at Cheng Yangqiu, and said with a smile: "Thank you, Doctor Cheng."

Mo Ping personally took Cheng Yangqiu out of the bedroom, called a servant to take Cheng Yangqiu into the guest room, and hurriedly stuffed the prescription into Xiao Gao's hand.

"Hurry up, I think the master is almost... crazy."

The moment Mo Ping finished speaking, he cried.

Standing at the door, he didn't even have the courage to walk into the bedroom and face Xie Nanxing.

After taking one more look, he felt that he was not able to take good care of Xie Nanxing for Shen Jinmo, damn it!

After calming down a little, Mo Ping entered the bedroom again.

At this time, Xie Nanxing was sitting beside the couch, picking up the threads of her plain white pajamas one by one with a pair of scissors.

Yang Huai held a folding fan in his hand and patiently dried the wounds that were still wet.

Seeing this, Mo Ping also took out a folding fan and prepared to fan himself.

Xie Nanxing, who had been concentrating on removing the lines, suddenly lowered his head and said, "A Ping, your hands are heavy, don't slap me."

Even if a stronger wind blew across Shen Jinmo's wound, Xie Nanxing would feel distressed.

Yang Huai suppressed the heartache in his voice and tried his best to talk to Xie Nanxing with gentle words.

"Master, the master likes to wear black, why did you pick a plain white pajamas for him today?"

Xie Nanxing's face was dull, but the movements of his hands were not affected at all: "He was wearing black clothes, so I couldn't tell where he was bleeding."

"My master is very smart."

Yang Huai's heart felt as if it was being stabbed by needles: "I will ask someone to buy more smooth white silk and have the subordinates make a few more sets of pajamas tonight."

"No."

Xie Nanxing didn't trust outsiders: "Bring it inside later, I'll cut it into a suitable size, and then just stick it on him and sew a few stitches on it."

It would be extremely painful to move your hands and feet and put on clothes when you are covered in injuries.

For a long time in the future, Shen Jinmo's clothes will be sewed by Xie Nanxing and cut by Xie Nanxing herself.

Yang Huai responded softly: "I will do it with you then."

After a while, Yang Huai asked in a low voice: "Master, do you remember that before the master fell into a coma, he asked you to take good care of yourself?"

Xie Nanxing paused in taking off the clothes, and his knuckles turned white as he held the scissors: "Well, I have to have dinner, right?"

"Don't worry, when the time comes, you can feed the master the medicine and have some porridge, okay?"

At this moment, Yang Huai treated Xie Nanxing as carefully as if he was treating a piece of rice paper that had been burned by fire.

If he used a little more force, the rice paper would shatter into ashes and there would be no possibility of piecing it together again.

Yang Huai's heartache for Xie Nanxing far exceeds that for Shen Jinmo.

He actually didn't quite understand why such a good master like him would not allow his deep love to last for someone like Shen Jinmo, who was destined to go through mountains of swords and seas of fire?

If it were someone else, would his master be happy all the time and live in peace every year?

Xie Nanxing didn't have the energy to think about the strange feeling in Yang Huai's heart. He slowly squatted down and placed his hand on Shen Jinmo's bloody red skin.

When she felt the wetness was still there, she took the folding fan from Mo Ping's hand and fanned it gently with extremely soft movements.

In the past, as long as the floor heating was used, Shen Jinmo would sweat even if he was not wearing anything.

But Xie Nanxing always felt that Shen Jinmo, who had lost a lot of blood today, was a little afraid of the cold.

"Ahuai, go get some more charcoal braziers." He pushed Yang Huai and said, "He doesn't like the smell of blood, pick some lighter incense and put a few bottles of winter plum in the room."

"The windows must be ventilated regularly. We must not let him suffer from any illness that makes him uneasy."

The tears that Yang Huai tried hard to hold back suddenly burst out.

It turns out that Lord Shen, whose whip was stained with blood, actually doesn't like the smell of blood.

It turns out that Lord Shen, who has countless lives on his shoulders, hates killing the most in his life.

Even Shen Jinmo himself might have forgotten about this matter, but his master always kept it in mind.

Turning dully, Yang Huai walked out of the house. He didn't dare to arrange these things himself. He had to keep an eye on Xie Nanxing.

Standing at the door and arranging all matters, Yang Huai raised his head high and forced back all the tears in his eyes.

Pushing the door open again, Yang Huai saw Xie Nanxing kneeling on the ground like a helpless child, looking at the blood on his hands.

At this moment, Shen Jinmo was lying on the soft couch, with his head covered with a torn white pajamas, and his ankles and wrists were fixed with extremely soft cotton wool.

The blood on Xie Nanxing's hand must have been stained when he accidentally touched the wound on Shen Jinmo's back that had not yet dried.

Feeling the cold wind blowing in, Xie Nanxing took out a handkerchief from his arms and wiped the blood off his hands over and over again.

He stood up from the ground with his own strength: "Ahuai, Aping, let's push this couch over together, and I will fan his head dry."

Fan it dry and it won't bleed.

But how can you fan dry a wound that is constantly bleeding?

Yang Huai stopped Xie Nanxing from pushing the couch with his trembling hands that had been stained with Shen Jinmo's blood.

He looked outside with cold eyes: "Sui Yi, are you blind?"

Pushing the door open, Sui Yi brought the soft couch to Shen Jinmo's side.

Without looking away, Sui placed his hands on Shen Jinmo's neck and ankles where there were no wounds, while Mo Ping pressed down the blanket that was stuck to his skin to prevent him from being taken away by Shen Jinmo.

The moment the wet skin was separated from the blanket on the soft couch, a tearing sound was heard.

It was extremely light and subtle, but it exploded in Xie Nanxing's mind like the disturbing chirping of cicadas in summer.

Xie Nanxing took two steps back.