After finishing bandaging Chen Zihan's wound, Ye Fan said, "All done. Do you want to rest for a bit? I can help you to the bed, and then I should probably leave."
Chen Zihan looked at Ye Fan with alarm.
Ye Fan was speechless. "Come on, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not that kind of guy, okay? Do I look like that type of person?"
Chen Zihan nodded slightly, and Ye Fan suffered 10,000 points of damage.
At this, Chen Zihan smiled. "I was just joking with you!"
"That's more like it!" Ye Fan laughed awkwardly.
Alright, I took that joke too far, and now she's getting her revenge. But as a professional old hand, I won't be intimidated.
He helped Chen Zihan toward the bedroom, but her foot suddenly slipped, and she fell. Affected by the momentum, Ye Fan toppled right on top of her.
In that moment, the two of them were in close contact—no, they were pressed right against each other. Looking at Chen Zihan, Ye Fan felt a sudden urge.
