Xia Weiyi's actions were swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation or pause.
Blood dripped onto Shasha's palm, and with a sharp scream, she looked up at Xu Zhiye; seeing that half of his face was smeared with blood, she couldn't help but cry. Frantically, she grabbed tissues from the table to cover his forehead.
"What should we do, what should we do, you're bleeding so much... Zhiye, I'll go call a doctor right now, just hang in there."
Xu Zhiye removed Shasha's hand, casually throwing the tissues from his head onto the ground. His eyes had been fixed on Xia Weiyi all along; only when he saw her resentment slowly dissipate with the blood he was losing did he weakly call out, "Weiyi—"
Xia Weiyi lifted her eyelids to see Xu Zhiye standing there, completely unconcerned about his own wound, looking at her with an indifferent expression. Deflated, she collapsed to her knees on the bed.
Having vented her anger, the sorrow rushed up uncontrollably.