As evening fast approached, Chu Qingchuan woke up in pain. Her brows scrunched up and a thin layer of sweat covered her forehead.
She felt the searing pain on her cheeks, and the intent to kill shot from her eyes.
She forced her weak body to sit up, then turned her head. When she spotted a towel on the floor, her elegant brows started to furrow.
Who would have thought that the master was still mad at her.
Chu Qingchuan noticed that the room didn't have a single speck of dust. Also, there was luxurious furniture and a refreshingly clean scent in the air.
After some thought, Chu Qingchuan got to her feet and picked up the towel off the floor. She rubbed it for a bit, then clenched it tightly as if she had set her mind on something.
Chu Qingchuan walked over to the dressing table. She let her silky, shiny, black hair down and slowly combed it straight with a brush.