No Substitutes for the Bigshots' Dream Girl Anymore!-Chapter 1578: Why So Nervous

Her face was pale, sweat rolling down from her forehead, but there was not much visible pain on her face.

It was as if she was enduring, or as if she truly couldn’t feel the pain.

Wayne Lane sat silently by her side, then took out gauze and basic antiseptic from his backpack.

"Give me your hand."

Hannah looked up at him, her hand still covering her arm, and with a slight force, fresh blood slid down through her fingers.

In just this short moment, quite a lot of blood had already pooled on the ground. It was hard to see in the night, but a somewhat pungent smell of blood was discernible.

Seeing that Hannah kept looking at him, Wayne Lane sighed and repeated, "Give me your hand, your wound needs to be treated."

The lighting around was slightly dim, and some distance away sat people who had just escaped from the tube building with them. Everyone didn’t dare to move, just waiting for someone to come handle the situation and then arrange a new place for them to stay.

There were cries in the wind, and also some murmurs of complaint.

Hannah clearly saw Wayne Lane’s eyes, the light brown pupils covered with a layer of darkness in the night.

"I don’t need to treat it."

Hannah turned her head, looking at the pitch-dark street in front of her.

There was almost no feeling in the area of the wound, only a bit itchy, probably because the wound was healing.

"Hannah," Wayne Lane’s tone became heavier, "give me your hand."

He firmly looked at her profile, his eyebrows tightly furrowed, even more so than when they faced danger just before.

Hannah glanced at him again, and finally obediently brought down her hand that was covering the wound.

The wound was deep, the sleeve already mostly stained with blood, but fortunately, the bleeding had temporarily stopped.

For such a healing speed, even for someone with S-level spiritual power, it was still too fast.

But Wayne Lane remained composed, didn’t ask further, or look more, just skillfully treating Hannah’s wound.

He lowered his eyes, his expression calm and serious.

First, he cut open the sleeve where Hannah’s wound was, then started cleaning the blood stains, and when he took the things to disinfect, Wayne Lane paused for a moment.

He raised his head, meeting Hannah’s gaze, his voice slightly unnatural as he softened it, "It will hurt, just bear with it."

Hannah didn’t react much, just gave a smile, her voice slightly hoarse and compliant, "Wayne Lane, do you really think I’m a child?"

She had been injured and had lost a fair amount of blood, her complexion still a bit pale at this moment.

Looking vaguely pitiful, but her tone was really...quite displeasing.

"No." Wayne Lane lowered his head again, took the medicine, and applied it to her wound.

His movements were very gentle, even a bit trembling when touching Hannah’s wound.

"Don’t look at me," he suddenly said.

Hannah sighed, turned her head, "Okay, I won’t look."

She looked up at the moon in the sky, but couldn’t help muttering.

"I’m hurt, why are you nervous."

Her voice was very low, but Wayne Lane still heard it.

His hand applying the medicine paused, as if realizing something, his movements slightly sped up.

Although subconsciously wanting to explain something, some things when said seemed too deliberate.

Nervous, huh?

Maybe so, if it were someone else today, he might not have this much patience to help someone else with their wounds.

Wayne Lane didn’t continue to dwell on this issue, finished bandaging Hannah’s wound, then instructed, "Someone will come later to ask questions, just stick with me, you don’t need to say anything."