Inside the car.
With careful movements, Junia Simpson unwrapped the bandages on Mason Nightshade's body, her brows furrowed tightly. Unable to restrain herself, she said, "The wound that was just bandaged last night, why has it opened again? Brother Nightshade, your body's current condition is entirely unsuitable for moving around. There might be lasting repercussions. Brother Nightshade, I'm begging you, take care of your body, okay? Even if... for sister-in-law's sake."
"I'm fine," Mason Nightshade said blandly, his lips a pale white, his expression unusually stern. His eyes were frigid and devoid of warmth, as if he were an iron man without any sense of pain.
Junia Simpson opened her mouth, realizing she could no longer utter any words of caution, and sighed helplessly.
Mason Nightshade was the most non-compliant patient she had ever encountered.
She knew that no matter what she said, he would not listen to her.
