Shi Xuan left, and behind him, Ye Ning was still hanging there, her head bowed, motionless.
Sometimes, passersby, worried she might have died, would specifically check if she was breathing.
Luckily, although weak, she was still breathing.
And at night.
Shi Xuan came again to admire her exhausted state at this moment.
This time, another voice accompanied his ears.
"Wow, who is this, Xuan, why is there a woman hanging here."
A flirtatious exclamation echoed.
Ye Ning didn't raise her head but could sense the pungent perfume gradually approaching.
Shi Xuan hugged a scantily clad woman, drawing closer.
He looked at Ye Ning, "Oh, an unruly woman."
The woman paused, looked at this person, thinking she was another woman brought by Shi Xuan, and despite her current state hanging there, resembling a doll on the verge of ruin, evoking pity, with porcelain white skin now seemingly bloodless, completely white under intense light.
