The door of the cubicle remained closed for a while; Yan Luoxi knocked again, "Xiaolian, are you okay? They've left and you're safe now. Come out first."
After a moment, the cubicle door was opened from inside, and Yan Luoxi saw Xiaolian's face through the half-opened door.
She hadn't looked carefully earlier, but now she noticed that Xiaolian's right cheek was slightly swollen, with five clear finger marks, and the skin exposed outside her clothes was bruised — clearly signs of abuse.
Yan Luoxi's brows furrowed slightly in shock, "Xiaolian, what happened to you? How did you get so badly hurt?"
Xiaolian's eyes reddened, tears rolling down; she pressed her lips tightly, seemingly afraid of crying out loud, desperately suppressing her emotions. Seeing her like this, Yan Luoxi felt equally saddened.
Hurriedly, she took a handkerchief from her handbag and handed it to Xiaolian, "Wipe your tears, don't cry. Let's leave here first."
The restroom is not a place for conversation.
