Xia Yuqing stumbled as Lu Jinchen dragged her down the hallway. Her heels clicked against the floor, but his grip on her wrist was unrelenting. "Lu Jinchen," she called out, trying to keep up, but he didn't slow down.
"Let go. What are you doing?" she said again, breathless.
He still gave her no answer. His silence made her frown. Her eyes trailed up his stiff back, shoulders squared, tension radiating from his entire body. He wasn't just angry—he was seething. Her brows furrowed deeply, her concern growing heavier by the second.
Just as she was about to question him, her eyes fell on his hand, the one gripping her. There was dried blood on the side of his hand, a faint red stain seeping through the white handkerchief that had been loosely tied around it. The cloth looked like it had been thrown on in a hurry. It wasn't even properly secured.
"You're bleeding," she said, voice lower now, laced with worry. "Why didn't you… bandage it properly?"
Still, he said nothing.
