Lu Zhao supported me as I returned to my room. His face, usually cold and arrogant, was now etched with gravity, sweat from his forehead trickling down his cheeks. He endured the pain and offered me a faint smile, but it looked far worse than a cry.
"Are you an idiot? Why would you block an arrow for me?" I complained, tearing a piece of my skirt to bandage him. "In this day and age, playing the 'beautiful, strong, and tragic' hero is no easy feat!"
Once the wound was dressed, my curiosity regarding the secrets behind Lu Zhao’s identity gnawed at me like a cat’s claws. "Your identity—what other secrets—"
Chapter 28