Inside the staff lounge…
Song Fengwan was sitting on a chair while Fu Chen was holding a cotton swab dipped in povidone-iodine and helping her clean the wound on her palm.
"… I don't know them at all. But from their tone, it seems someone instructed them," Song Fengwan muttered softly.
"Oh," Fu Chen replied. "You carry a knife with you when you go out?"
Song Fengwan coughed twice. "Just… to protect myself."
Before she finished making the gift, she didn't want to expose it, so she could only lie.
Actually, only she knew that the injuries on her hands were not entirely due to those two people. She had stayed up late last night to carve and already had some blood blisters on her fingers and the webbing of her thumb. After cleaning them, they still hurt terribly.
The fight with those men just now tore open all the wounds. They looked a little hideous and scary, but they didn't hurt much.
