After thoroughly cleaning her, Moh Shiche helped Luo Qiangwei dry off her body, wrapped her up in a silk bathrobe, carried her to the bed to sit down, and brought over a hairdryer.
He stood behind her, drying her hair.
His long fingers gently combed through her long hair, his movements tender and meticulous as if he were afraid of hurting her, his voice husky, "Take tomorrow off, I'll talk to the director."
Luo Qiangwei's face fell, "I need to go to the set, that's my job, and I don't need you to interfere."
The man's low voice seemed to be coaxing her, "Crying will make your eyes swell."
"It's not the first time people have seen me with swollen eyes," she said with a derisive laugh, "Back when I was chasing after you, you always ignored me, always sent me away. I used to sit by the river and cry, and the next day everyone would laugh at me, calling me shameless for pursuing a man. I'm already used to it."
