Xia Ling did not want to argue with him.
She gently pulled her arm out from Pei Ziheng's grasp. "It's quite late. Thank you for dressing the wound for me. Please go back."
It was obvious that she was ordering him to leave.
Pei Ziheng looked at her deeply. "Are you really refusing to wake up?"
Xia Ling placed one hand on the back of the sofa and staggered up. "I'll send you off."
Pei Ziheng held her. "I'll send you to the bedroom upstairs and leave by myself." She had sprained her ankle. If she forced herself to walk up the stairs, her injury would become more serious. He initially wanted to carry her, but she refused, so he carefully supported her and let her lean on him as she jumped forward little by little.
Both of their bodies were very close.
There was a fragrant perfume on her body.
