Before the girl had time to compose herself, Wu Jian grabbed the blanket, lifted Hou Jingshu into his arms, went back into bed, and wrapped them both within the blanket’s warm embrace. Hou Jingshu blinked several times as he hugged her tight. She squirmed a little, which caused him to wince. He could feel himself responding, but she had just stepped on him, and so all that blood flow caused it to sting.
“Don’t move, please. That hurts.”
“O-oh. I-I’m so sorry—wait. How are you still alive? Wu Jian, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me you were still alive? Where is Wu Meiying?”
The girl was talking so rapidly that Wu Jian struggled to keep up with all of her questions.