"Are you repaying me for saving your life?" Tang ZhiLuo spoke softly.
Mo Beicheng curled his lips, "Of course. A drop of water should be repaid with a spring. You treated me well, so I treat you well."
At this moment, Tang ZhiLuo truly believed it—Mo Beicheng had never hurt her.
Perhaps his intentions were impure at the start, but from the moment she saved him from the trap, every word Mo Beicheng spoke had been to remind or help her.
Yet his roguish demeanor always made him seem dangerous.
After attending to his wound, Mo Beicheng went to the infusion area for his IV. Tang ZhiLuo worried he might be cold and asked, "Mo Beicheng, would you like some hot water?"
"Sure." Mo Beicheng's lips were pale; he was indeed a little thirsty.
Tang ZhiLuo went off to look for the hospital's hot water dispenser.
Finally, she found one near the ultrasound department. She walked over and filled a disposable cup with warm water.