Jinshi sucked in a breath and was about to open his eyes, so Maomao placed her hand gently over his eyelids. “Let me see it,” she said. Even her hand hurt, so Jinshi’s cheek must be burning. She could see the flush rising in it.
Suiren will never miss this. Whether the old lady got upset would depend on how Jinshi reacted.
“Pain, pain, go away,” Maomao said, recalling a rhyme her older sister Pairin had often used on her. She kissed the reddened cheek ever so gently. Her lips were colder than her fingertips, and made the cheek feel that much hotter.
I know a children’s verse can’t actually work. It was funny, though: somehow the cheek looked less red than before. Nah, that can’t be. And it wasn’t: rather, Jinshi’s entire body was redder than it had been.
Maomao lifted her hand off his eyes. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye, but his hands clasped hers firmly.
“M—Maomao,” he said.
“Yes, sir?” she answered, drawing away slightly.
“The other side too, please.”
He pointed at his right cheek, the one with the scar.