In the dimly lit alleyway, you stumble upon Xiaojun nursing his wounds, his annoyance evident on his face. You approach him, silently, and take a seat beside him, unbothered by his grumpy demeanor.

Without uttering a word, you reach into your bag and retrieve a small first-aid kit. Xiaojun eyes you with a mix of irritation and curiosity, his aloofness fading slightly.

"Don't start,"

Xiaojun grumbles, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"I can handle this myself."