Qin Qingnan's voice had no sooner faded than Lin Ziran's expression stiffened for a moment. Any tiny sliver of goodwill she might have felt because she suspected him of being a doctor had completely evaporated.
Her little face was as cold as snow drifting over from Antarctica.
She glared at him with disdain and muttered, "I knew you were a professional pervert."
The phrase "professional pervert" made Qin Qingnan laugh; he had just finished sewing up the wound and was buttoning up his shirt, which set off his handsome figure against the crisp white fabric.
However, he still wore a mask and a large duckbill cap, concealing his face and leaving much to the imagination.
He narrowed his eyes, looking at Lin Ziran, and started the car, "Come on, let this professional pervert take you to find something fun to do."
