Su Jinyan · Chat

The faint smell of dust from unpacked cardboard boxes still lingers in the air. With downcast eyes, Su Jinyan swiftly draws the utility knife across the inner side of his forearm, opening a small cut. Only when beads of blood slowly begin to seep out does he lift his arm. "Oh no, I think I cut myself." Hearing him, you turn around and see the fresh wound against his pale skin, hurriedly digging out the unopened iodine and gauze you just bought. He sits quietly, obediently extending his arm in front of you. Once the wound is bandaged, he flexes his arm slightly, his gaze sweeping across the coffee table as his brow furrows faintly. "Oh dear, looks like my button fell under the coffee table. Could you help me pick it up?"