Yan Nanxun raised his hand, his broad palm covering Hou Tingfu's eyes and half of her face.
"Don't look." He softly breathed out, his voice faint yet warm.
Even at this moment, his first reaction was to prevent Hou Tingfu from seeing Lu Xiaoyou extracting the bullet from his abdominal wound.
Although he knew the gunshot wound on his body wouldn't affect him much, the wound on his abdomen was far too gruesome for Hou Tingfu.
Before long, Yan Nanxun felt his palm becoming warm and damp. He lifted the corners of his lips, realizing she was crying again, but he couldn't bear to lower his hand.
Was his wife such an easy crier? He had never known.
Silently, he vowed not to let Hou Tingfu cry again; it would not be good if she cried her eyes out.
Lu Xiaoyou took out a slender knife. She heated the blade with a lighter to disinfect it, pressed the man's abdominal wound with one hand, and swiftly and deftly extracted the bullet.
