Oliver Hudson hurriedly raised his hand, trying to wipe away the tears at the corner of Annie Anne's eyes. However, this motion naturally and unsurprisingly pulled at his wound.
Yet Oliver Hudson's face showed no signs of discomfort. He simply extended his hand, but his fingertips timidly withdrew the moment they touched the corner of Annie Anne's eyes.
"I'm fine now, you don't need to worry."
But even these simple movements had already left Oliver Hudson's forehead covered in cold sweat.
Noticing this, Annie Anne's pupils contracted as she stood up directly from her chair.
"See, you're still deceiving me, you've always been like this."
Annie Anne couldn't understand why Oliver Hudson, already in this state, insisted on putting on a brave face in front of her.
To Annie Anne, Oliver Hudson's actions were simply torturing himself.
"Annie, I'm sorry..."
