As time passed, work gradually got on track, and Long Yutian's figure also faded from Xia Yanxin's sight.
But the Mandara flower on her skin, imprinted with some sort of dye, could not be washed off despite her trying all sorts of shower gels. Instead, it seemed to grow even more vivid. Fortunately, it was winter; she could wear thicker clothes to cover it up completely. If it were summer and she wore skirts, some of it would inevitably show, which would be troublesome.
This was the mark of her shame, recording the time when she had been someone's lowly mistress.
There were two days left before she left for her trip to the United States. Yu Qing had given her two days off to get her passport and other procedures ready.
