Mu Xueyao's explanation for the men who fell to the ground was that she had learned some self-defense techniques, and they wanted to pounce on her and scratch her with a knife, but she could only resist.

There are not many wounds on her body, but every one of them is ruthless, and two of them have stitches, which are terrifying to look at, and the police have no suspicions.

Wen Qingyan and her confession are not much different.

The injuries on the men's bodies were only minor, and the police didn't believe what they said.

After sending the police away, Mu Xueyao sat up from the hospital bed.

Wen Qingyan was given a tranquilizer and slept peacefully, and Mu Xueyao helped her pull the quilt up.

Wen Qingyan's kidnapping needs to be blocked, after all, Wen Qingyan was drugged, even if nothing happens, some reporters who make up blindly for profit will not let it go.

It's so strange in today's world, where you are a victim and yet you are to blame.

After dealing with the matter, she relaxed a little, and then realized that the injuries on her body were really painful.

She paddled really hard just now, and she had been tense and didn't notice it before, but now as soon as she relaxed, the same feeling came up.

Although she can be ruthless to herself, it is one thing to be ruthless, and it is another thing to be afraid of pain.

It is difficult for a healer to heal herself, and she can't do anything about these wounds.

She reached into her pocket and subconsciously fumbled around it, only to remember that she was in a hurry to go out and didn't bring chocolate.

She frowned, just in time to catch a glimpse of the phone on the bedside table "ding" on.

It was a WeChat message from Qiao Moyang.

[Qiao Moyang: Sister Xue Yao, have you seen my sister?]

Or the image of a good child.

Mu Xueyao hesitated, but still replied to his WeChat.

It didn't take long for him to rush to the hospital.

The woman lay pale on the hospital bed, her bare hands covered with several scars, glaring on her cold white skin.

Qiao Moyang was extremely anxious: "Sister Xue Yao, what's wrong with my sister?"

Mu Xueyao told him a lot about the truth - of course, it was a deleted version.

The young man's dark eyes were slightly dark, but he kept a smile: "Thank you, Sister Xue Yao, thank you for saving my sister." ”

This time, Mu Xueyao could clearly feel the coldness on his body.

But it's not hard to see that it's not aimed at her.

"Sister Xue Yao, I'll go back to make porridge first, my sister will clamo for a drink every time she gets sick. Qiao Moyang said again.

Mu Xueyao sent him out, the injury on her arm was really painful, and she dialed a phone.

The phone calls are almost instantaneous.

"No, it's been so long, do you remember that there is such a person as me?" the young man shook his legs, with a lollipop in his mouth, and a few hints of resentment in his tone.

Mu Xueyao sat back on the bed and ignored his words: "Give me my ointment." ”

"Cut. The boy muttered something in a low voice, and his brain was half a beat slower and he suddenly connected to the Internet, "Are you injured?"

He jumped up from his chair.

Tsk, I've known each other for four years, and I was finally caught by him!

Fu Chuan wants to rush back to take a picture of her now, and send a circle of friends to gather all his friends to taunt her...... Oh no, take care of her!

He was thinking about it beautifully, and after his eyes returned to the unfamiliar decoration style of the hotel, his heart was half cold.

"If you don't hurt sooner or later, you won't ......hurt me when you pick me out," he muttered.

But it's still hurting!

Fu Chuan's heart ignited again, and he heard her indifferent voice again: "Well, I paddled it myself." ”

Didn't someone else hurt it?

He suddenly froze, slumped back in his chair, and asked with a lot of mouth, "Very badly injured?"

"It's ok. "She's lukewarm.

The boy didn't know whether to be angry or not, and pretended to be calmly sarcastic: "Then you are still as stupid as before." ”

How can anyone deliberately scratch himself?

He muttered to himself.