Luosang laid on the bed lazily while Nian Junting was drying her hair. Nian Junting was heavy-handed, as it was the first time he had dried a woman's hair. He hurt Luosang many times in the process.
"Can't you be gentler? You're hurting my scalp." Luosang was already exhausted. Even when turning back to give Nian Junting a threatening glance, she still seemed to be lazy and weak.
"You can't blame me. Your hair is tangled," Nian Junting explained.
"Can't you untangle it gently?" Luosang complained in a sweet and soft voice.
"Alright…" Nian Junting lowered his head, upset. He suddenly missed their earlier encounter, when Luosang was moaning and crying with her limbs coiled around him like vines.
