Qiao An's expression was grave as she rushed to the floor-to-ceiling window at the first chance. They were on the third floor, and a leap from there would not kill her, but it would leave her seriously injured.
The smoke seeping from under the door was becoming thicker and more pungent by the moment.
Time was running out, and she had no other choice!
She yanked a silk sheet out with one hand, pulled open a drawer, and used scissors to cut it into strips, which she twisted into several makeshift ropes.
She pushed open the window and secured one end of the connected ropes tightly to the bedpost, tossing the other end down to the ground below.
Just as her body was crossing through the window, Qiao An's hand trembled, nearly causing her to fall.
She steadied her mind, enduring the stinging pain in her palms, and began to descend bit by bit.
