Cruel
Editor: Atlas Studios
Lian Jing's chin was still on her shoulder. He hugged the weak and trembling woman in his arms, not daring to use any strength.
Shen Yin took a while to recover from the trauma of six years ago. Realizing that she had embarrassed herself, she quickly turned her head away and covered her flushed face with her arm. Her voice was muffled as she said, "Get out."
"Okay."
Footsteps sounded beside the bed. Lian Jing picked up the box on the ground and threw it into the trash can before leaving the room with the old and new leather belts.
The faint light in the room illuminated the motionless figure on the bed. After a while, Shen Yin tiredly walked into the bathroom to wash up. After returning to the bed, she fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, Shen Yin got up to go to work as usual. Just as she walked downstairs, a servant came over with a bowl of white fungus broth and smiled ingratiatingly.