HISS... It hurts... hurts...
Zheng Fan sat in a chair, his armor and lining stripped off. Xue Three was busily applying burn ointment to his wounds with a homemade cotton swab.
Blisters had formed on his chest and the inner side of his right arm where he had been scalded, yet the situation was not severe. After all, while Fanli's armor had been scorching hot, the flames had already been extinguished for some time.
At least, he wasn't roasted alive.
However, being "baked" like this was an indescribably sour and invigorating experience.
Fanli stood to one side like a child who had done something wrong, rubbing his hands restlessly.
"My lord, it's not so bad. The medicine I use is excellent; it should not leave any scars. Please, be assured, my lord."
Upon hearing these words, Zheng Fan could only nod and say, "Find me some loose-fitting clothes."
"As you wish, my lord."
