He would never let go of her hand in this lifetime...
Mi Yao was dazed, not knowing the deep implications of his words.
Right now, his gaze was both deep and cold, his obvious hatred for her contrasting with a tender softness that seemed to almost melt her at the bottom of his eyes.
"Begin to extract the bullet!" Feng Yueming looked at the military doctor and commanded.
The military doctor hesitated, "Young Commander, I will get something for you to bite on, so if it hurts, you just..."
"No need," Feng Yueming let out two simple words.
The military doctor dared not say more and took the sterilized scalpel, then pushed the sharp tip into Feng Yueming's injured right arm...
Mi Yao was so scared that she covered her face, not daring to look.
At that moment, a large hand clutched the back of her head and pressed her down, then a pair of cold yet pliable lips touched her soft, sticky mouth.
Feng Yueming kissed her.