Wang Sicong slumped in the chair, his expression extremely fierce, his features all squeezed together, holding his right leg with both hands, his body occasionally trembling, even his head bleeding.
The whole person looked very miserable.
Li went to the balcony to get a towel and handed it to Wang Sicong, "Wipe it off, you should get to the hospital quickly for bandaging, might need stitches too."
Hearing the word 'stitches', Wang Sicong paused. What does stitches mean? It means disfigurement!
Can a playboy tolerate being disfigured? Can Wang Sicong accept it?
A surge of anger rose again from his heart, he suddenly stood up and glared at Li, shouting: "You're the one who needs stitches!"
After speaking, he placed both hands on Li's shoulders and pushed firmly, directly knocking him down to the ground.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Meng Nan couldn't bear it anymore; he and Li were quite close. To put it bluntly, in others' eyes, they're like gay.
