Street
Cold rain fell from the sky, carrying a pain that cut to the bone.
Lan Yening helped Li Jiaqi, whose legs were trembling, toward the car.
The latter bit her lip, refusing to let out any sound of suffering.
When the car door opened,
"Jiaqi, I'll take you to the hospital."
"No, I just want to find somewhere to rest."
"…Alright!"
Lan Yening knew what the former was worried about—if the media got wind of this, it would be over for them.
The rain grew heavier and heavier.
The two drenched figures climbed into the car.
Li Jiaqi, pale-faced and utterly disheveled, curled up in the seat, her eyes blank and hollow.
Lan Yening wiped the blood off his face, pressed down on the accelerator, and drove away.
"Xiao Ning, do you know?"
"Jiaqi!"
"I'm a filthy girl, so filthy, so dirty."
"Jiaqi, you're not dirty. The filth is in the circle, in this world, in those who forced us into this."
