Speaking of it, Song Baoshun is only fourteen this year, at the age of youthful impulsiveness.
His dear aunt was dismissed; how could he tolerate it?
In his rage, wouldn't he just go pick a fight?
"Even if you're angry, you have to endure it!" Baoshun's mother walked in with tea, glaring at Song Baoshun on the bed.
Song Baoshun shut his mouth, but he was still unconvinced inside, his face puffed up with anger.
"Li San Niang, have some tea." Baoshun's mother placed the tea bowl on the small table by the bed.
Li Yuzhu thanked her, "I'd better check Baoshun's injured leg first."
She walked to the bedside and unwrapped the bandage on Song Baoshun's injured leg.
The misplaced fracture hadn't been properly adjusted, and with such careless bandaging, even if the leg healed, walking wouldn't be smooth.
Fortunately, the fracture wasn't very serious. The two bones in the lower leg, the thicker tibia was intact, and only the thinner fibula was broken, so surgery was not needed.
