The design style was indeed similar to that of Yangcheng, although the items here were even rarer and more expensive, which goes without saying.
She had intended to leave quickly, but hearing some noise inside, her legs involuntarily carried her over.
The man was half-leaning on the wide mink sofa, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows and the liquor shelf, his black cloak casually thrown on the ground, and his white shirt seemingly just taken off, placed on the sofa to the right.
In front of the dark brown glass coffee table, aside from an ice-filled wine glass and a nameless but clearly invaluable liquor bottle, there was an open first-aid kit.
From Mu Yin's angle, she could see the bandages wrapped around his left side were stained with spots of blood.
His pampered hands were struggling to unwind the bandages on his body, and when he reached his back, he was clearly having difficulty.
