Yang Si
In the treatment room of the prison hospital, the smell of disinfectant can't quite cover the faint scent of blood.
Under the harsh white light, Yang Si sits bare-chested on the edge of the bed, while Bai Xian cleans a long, deep gash on his forearm.
Nan Jiyan's shadow looms in the doorway like a cold stone statue. Yang Si says nothing, his gaze fixed straight at the door.
Nan Jiyan finally speaks, his voice utterly flat:
"That one who finished solitary confinement in B-Block... kicked up quite a fuss. Clean work."
"Heh..."
Yang Si lets out a short, clipped sound from his throat, which counts as a reply.Please log in to continue the conversation.