Dim closet.
Miss Mu had been seriously dehydrated these past few days, her face alternating between flushed and pale, now leaning into Xia Feng's arms, totally spent.
This month could be called hell, a shameful event destined to be buried deep in her memory, never to be willingly recalled.
But no matter, shame is often the crucial foundation upon which victors ascend to greatness.
After all, without hardships, without foes, even if one were to win, likely there would be little joy to feel, bland and uninteresting.
"Miss Mu, today's punishment is almost over. Do you have any thoughts?" whispered the man beside her.
She just furrowed her fine eyebrows, not responding or paying him any attention.
"Drip drop, drip drop~"
The clock hanging on the wall ticked away each second, like water silently flowing, time passing by.
The air in the closet grew increasingly stuffy and slick.
