The floor of the private room was strewn with bottles, evidence of heavy drinking. The music blared, and the air was thick with the scent of alcohol. Feng Meiling sat on the floor in the corner, still sipping on a bottle.
Si Chen had never seen her like this before. He rushed over, turned off the room's speakers, and snatched the bottle from her hand: "Are you crazy?"
"Why are you drinking so much for no reason?"
Confronted, Feng Meiling looked up, her eyes red as if she had been crying.
She wore a white camisole dress, her skin as fair as snow, adding an inexplicable sense of fragility. Her makeup was minimal, making her look like an innocent and pitiable delicate flower.
Feng Meiling sobbed, "I'm in pain."
Si Chen really wasn't used to seeing her like this.
In his memory, Feng Meiling was always a strong woman; she bullied others, and no one dared to bully her.
Putting down the bottle, he squatted in front of her, softening his tone: "What happened?"
