COLD RAIN

CHAPTER 51

His heart suddenly missed a beat, wide-eyed, in a dizzying shock, Pon darted forward, reaching out to stop him.

But it was too late. Sailub estimated the distance and knew that Pon could not run up to him in such a short time.

In the steaming heat, he watched a clear pillar of water falling in waves, as if time had been slowed down and stretched infinitely, so detailed that every wisp of white mist was clearly visible.

However, the degree of pain was far from what was expected.

Pon shoved the table fiercely, its legs making a harsh sound on the floor.

In desperation people would burst out with incredible potential, and the dining table that has not been moved since it was placed by the wall was pushed forward and tilted by him.

Sailub’s body swayed under the impact, and the water that rushed out of the mouth of the kettle deviated from its direction.

It was originally supposed to land right onto his palm but now it only slid over his hand and passed by the wrist.

Hot water splashed on the floor, a few drops plopping on the instep of his slipper.

Pon rushed around the corner of the table, took advantage of Sailub’s daze and grabbed the kettle in his hand.

When he put it back on the table, his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He put it down for a while and picked it up again.

Fearing that it would be snatched by Sailub again, he went to the kitchen to pour out the water, then came back, breathing hard, “What’s wrong with you?”

Fear was followed by anger. Pon couldn’t calm down, thinking that if he had reacted a little slower just now, Sailub’s hand might have become useless, his scalp tightened and the air he inhaled seemed to pierce his lungs like a knife.

No one knew what it was like to be scalded better than him. Your skin and hair come from your parents, Pon regretted not knowing how to love himself in his past life.

The practice of hurting yourself, he couldn’t understand it no matter what.

Not to mention, Sailub was an actor. It was all the more reason to cherish his heavenly appearance.

So casually spoiling it would only make people think he was childish, or even disgraceful.

There was also a layer of buried anger that Pon did not want to delve into.

He told himself that no matter who he saw doing this, he would not stay unperturbed, let alone stand idly by.

Sailub stood there without moving or speaking.

Pon grabbed his scalded hand and pulled it under the faucet water to rinse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the blisters bulging on the side of his hand near the wrist bone.

If the nerve tissues were not injured, just apply ointment. If you are lucky, you won’t even have a scar.

Auntie bought a tube of anti-scald ointment when purchasing commonly used medicines, and now it came in handy.

Pon found a needle, disinfected it repeatedly with an alcohol cotton swab, and glanced up at Sailub before prickling him.

He still stood stupidly, all his strength seemed to have been exhausted just now. He looked down at his hand, his eyes dazed, and no one could guess what he was thinking.

His hands were limp, allowing Pon to deal with it as he saw fit, it seemed even if the needle was dipped in poison, he would not dodge.

Facing Sailub like this, Pon couldn’t speak out even though he was angry. After piercing the blisters, he started to apply the medicine and realized that he was too proficient in the whole series of actions.