Logan Xiang was carried by Asher Cheng to sit on the sofa. The collision happened to hit his brow bone, and it became swollen in a short while.
"Apply this," Asher Cheng took a small ice pack and put it on his eyebrows, "press it yourself."
"Oh, oh, oh, Fcuk, this is too cold to bear," Logan Xiang said, trying to frown but failing, because it hurt when he frowned, "I'm fine, it doesn't hurt anyway, so let it be swollen."
"It will hurt if it's swollen, and your little band-aid won't cover it up," Asher Cheng looked at him, "You're so vain, and your mohawk is gone, and half of your forehead is swollen, can you bear it?"
Logan Xiang thought about it, sighed, and reluctantly pressed the ice pack: "My main purpose is to eat the noodles first, otherwise it will be so unpalatable if the noodles clump together."
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