At that moment, watching Wen Xiangyang's pen stroke across the paper in his hand, it was as though she was scratching his heart. Mu Lingqian felt a peculiar flutter in his chest, as if it were being tickled by a feather.
"My injury is fine." Once Wen Xiangyang had finished writing, Mu Lingqian was able to divine her query from her gestures, and he answered nonchalantly.
How could it be fine? It was clearly severe!
Wen Xiangyang pouted in dissatisfaction. Clearly, she was upset that Mu Lingqian was not taking his own health seriously.
What a wicked man, as if he were ill or something.
Not only did he fail to recognize her, but he also tried to strangle her multiple times.
Perhaps all the ill health was a result of his habitual negligence.
Seeing Wen Xiangyang pouting, Mu Lingqian reached out and pinched the uninjured half of her cheek, asking, "From now on, will you listen to me?"
Wen Xiangyang blinked and wrote in Mu Lingqian's hand: "Yes."