But on the other side, Zheng Yuanyuan was far from happy, frantically scrubbing her body, her delicate skin already rubbed raw, looking like it might bleed any second.
As soon as Zheng Hao got home, he noticed his daughter was bathing, and initially didn't think much of it. But by evening, having still not seen Zheng Yuanyuan come out from the bathroom, he became worried and knocked on the door.
"Yuanyuan, are you in there? Why have you been washing for so long?" Zheng Hao's voice was filled with concern, but Zheng Yuanyuan didn't respond, as if she hadn't heard at all.
Zheng Hao frowned, deeply worried about Zheng Yuanyuan's situation, but considering it inappropriate for a father to intrude on his grown daughter, he could only go to his next-door neighbor, the lady of the house: "Mrs. Zhou, I don't know what's wrong with my daughter; she's been in the bathroom for a long time, and she doesn't answer no matter how I call her."