Song Qingxiao could not enter through the front gate, so she climbed into her house through a window at the back. The sound of thunder outside still rang out loudly. She could hear her mother snoring after she got drunk and fell asleep, completely unaware of the horrors her daughter had been through.
She left traces of water on the windowsill when she climbed in, but Song Qingxiao did not have the strength to deal with it then. The windows slammed back and forth non-stop from being blown about by the wind and rain, making a clattering sound as they moved.
Song Qingxiao collapsed onto the floor, utterly devoid of any energy. She could barely move even a finger. She still held the dagger in her right hand. It seemed to give her a sense of security to have it there.
