Chang Weicai wanted to see where the rose had been scalded, but couldn't get close because the bud was snapping aggressively. Just a bit closer, and it would bare its tiny sharp teeth ferociously.
Just as the woman had said, it was disobedient, capable of biting people and hurting itself.
Originally, the rose seedling was placed beside the brazier to keep it sufficiently warm, but now it had become a hidden danger.
Chang Weicai thought for a moment, then unraveled the freshly bandaged cloth, exposing his bloodied fingertips, the unhealed wounds oozing fresh blood drop by drop.
The woman looked at the old man dubiously.
He earnestly examined his own fingers, then re-bandaged them, raised his arm, and fed it to the snapping bud—it bit down!
"What are you doing?" the woman asked curiously, "Aren't you afraid of it?"
While the bud clamped onto his arm, Chang Weicai bent down, picked up the flowerpot with one hand, and moved it a bit farther from the brazier.
