Fu Chenlie couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, feeling irritable.
He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, tossing an extremely indifferent remark her way, "Don't stand there being an eyesore, go to sleep."
Wen Ran obediently murmured an "okay."
Considering Fu Chenlie was injured, she didn't take his harsh words to heart and turned towards the stairs after responding.
After going upstairs, she glanced at the man sitting downstairs.
He was frowning deeply, massaging his temples while leaning on the couch, apparently bothered by something.
Wen Ran couldn't figure him out and didn't bother to try. After all, his wound had been treated by the doctor and wouldn't cause any serious trouble.
She returned to her room.
As she was closing the door, she heard the sound of a lighter from downstairs.
Was he going to smoke?
Didn't he worry about his wound healing slowly? He really was courting death.
Wen Ran closed the door and lay down on her bed, feeling uneasy.