Uncle Spencer was stunned for a mont, and sensed another aning: "It seems like sir is very confident?"
Ian Douglas smiled, tapping his fingers on the table again, and said mysteriously, "Just make arrangents as I’ve instructed, the detailed plan will be disclosed to you in due ti."
If he wasn’t fully confident, he wouldn’t make a move.
--
"Does it hurt?" Matthew Saxon had never been this nervous before. During the process of applying the dicine, he almost lifted his head after every swipe.
A thick layer of ointnt was applied to Scarlett Yates’s swollen palm, the ointnt was transparent, coating her hand layer by layer like jelly.
The box of dicine he held was the very ointnt he had asked Olly to hand over to Scarlett Yates.
The pain-relief effect of the ointnt was quite good. After applying a thick layer, the pain in Scarlett Yates’s palm had significantly subsided.
However, her face still looked bad, her small face pale, devoid of any color, with downcast eyes, and her shoulders slumped as she lay weakly on the bed.
Just after wiping off the sweat on her face, another layer appeared after a while.
When she heard Matthew Saxon asking her, she barely lifted her eyelids, looking at him with eyes lacking in spirit, then gently shook her head.
"Really doesn’t hurt?" Matthew Saxon was a bit skeptical. He was still applying the ointnt to her hand, glancing at the bruised palm, his brows tightened, "If it hurts, you should say sothing, don’t hold it in."
Scarlett Yates shook her head again and said in a hoarse voice, "Really, it doesn’t hurt anymore; this ointnt is very effective at relieving pain."
Matthew Saxon tossed the cotton swab in his hand into the trash and took out another, continuing to apply ointnt to her other injuries.
His movents were extrely gentle, as light as a feather brushing over Scarlett Yates’s palm. During the application, his expression was exceedingly focused, as if he was doing sothing very important.
The cold sweat on Scarlett Yates’s forehead was wiped away, while the sweat on his forehead erged again.
Scarlett Yates rarely saw Matthew Saxon this nervous.
He was usually the type who wouldn’t get nervous or scared even if the sky were falling, but now his forehead was covered in sweat from anxiety.
The hand holding the cotton swab was actually trembling.
He was afraid of hurting her.
For a mont, Scarlett Yates felt a whirlwind of emotions.
Thinking of last night, she felt wronged and sad, his distrust and suspicion felt like a knife stabbing her heart.
The wound from the stab was deep, still bleeding now.
Yet at this mont, his concern and utmost gentle care for her seed to envelop her completely.
After applying the ointnt on both of her hands, he exhaled a long breath as if he had completed a formidable task.
Matthew Saxon tossed the remaining half box of dicine into the bedside cabinet, his narrow, deep eyes once again fell on her hands, his brows furrowed, lips tightly pressed, and after a mont, he said seriously, "This dicine is very effective in promoting blood circulation and reducing bruises, if your hand still doesn’t go down in swelling in two hours, we’ll go to the hospital."
Hearing him ntion going to the hospital, Scarlett Yates’s expression instantly changed: "No need to go to the hospital, I’m fine, this ointnt will heal it quickly."
Go to the hospital?
And let the doctor discover she got her palm beaten, how embarrassing would that be.
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