When Du Shaoheng heard that, he was reluctant to do so, but what could he do? He could only go and fetch the first aid kit that was kept in Yuwan meekly. He then walked over to Chen Borui and slammed the first aid kit down on the table before pointing to a nearby chair, motioning for him to sit.
“There’s no need to treat my injuries. Even if you do, it won’t be of much use. They’ll heal after a few days,” Chen Borui said tersely.
“What is it? Are you trying to add a few more bruises to my body and face? I’ll gouge your eyes out if that happens,” Du Shaoheng threatened in a low voice.
Glimpsing the look in his eyes, Chen Borui then sat on the nearby sofa.
At the exact moment when Du Shaoheng lifted Chen Borui’s shirt, everyone present, except for Lu Zhanting, stared at Chen Borui, who was sitting on the sofa, in shock.
Scars that were long and narrow, resembling centipedes that were crawling forward in jagged lines, bisected his chest, gruesome and daunting. Now, they finally knew how that explosion burned his body to such an extent.