From the moment Zhao Ying heard the man's footsteps, scenes from last night flashed quickly before her eyes: her own self, lowly as dust, the unreachable Mr. Mu, and the calm-as-water Mrs. Mu.
Rather than this kind of calm and composed torment, at this moment she would rather he just give her a swift blow.
However..... the day things are exposed might also be the day she's sold off by debt collectors to some pleasure house.
Even living in this constant state of anxiety is much better than being humiliated by those worse than pigs and dogs.
She dared not lift her head, fearing to see that indifferent and sharp gaze.
Holding back tears, she respectfully responded, "Sorry, sorry, I'll clean it right away."
Saying this, she turned around, found a cloth in the kitchen, returned to the living room, knelt on the floor, and scrubbed harder each time.
