What a weak little white flower

In the washroom.

Song Chenxi rushed into the cubicle, squatted in front of the toilet, and kept retching silently.

Under her fair skin, the blue blood vessels were clearly visible. At this moment, they burst out. The pain caused by the severe headache was unbearable even for a man. However, song Chenxi stubbornly endured it and did not make a sound.

Footsteps could be heard from outside the cubicle.

"Sister."

That was song Zhiyun's unique voice. In the eyes of outsiders, it was a weak voice that song Chenxi, the strong woman, couldn't learn.

Song Chenxi endured the pain and grunted.

"You won't blame me and Chen for coming, right? I didn't want to, but Chen said he was worried about me being alone ..."

Song Zhiyun had already put up a temporary cleaning sign outside.

There were only the song sisters in the huge washroom.

Song Zhiyun stood in front of the mirror and took out some powder to touch up her makeup. Her already pale face became even paler.