The next day, she awoke in her bedroom, brimming with girlish charm.
On the two-meter-wide bed, the slender girl lay in the middle, a soft lump nestled in the blankets when viewed from above, like a fluffy sweety.
Mr. Chen had been cruel to sweety last night.
Arms ached, legs weak.
It was as if nothing had happened, yet everything that should have happened, had not been spared.
The alarm clock rang for the umpteenth time, and Liang Weining twisted her face in pain, struggling to get up from the bed.
She glanced at the time: half past seven.
"..."
The drowsiness disappeared instantly.
So late, and Mr. Chen didn't wake her!
She quickly got out of bed, put on her shoes, went to the bathroom to wash up, then back to the dressing room to change.
She picked a set of professional skirts casually and added a cashmere coat over it—it shouldn't be cold.
Once ready, she went to the dining room.
