The next day.
The gauzy curtains fluttered in the wind. On the bed, the woman with flushed cheeks stretched lazily, her hair naturally curled like seaweed and scattered across the pillow. She rubbed her eyes open, trying to shake off the drowsiness.
Once she was fully awake, a sharp pain came from her ankle.
Qin Mo sat up, lifted the blanket, and saw that her ankle was swollen. A sprain needed proper rest. But she still had to go to work at Chu Consortium; otherwise, that man would surely mock her.
Qin Mo carefully stood up. She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table—it was still early.
She limped to the bathroom and, after finishing her morning routine, she opened the closet. It was filled to the brim. All sorts of new designs, all types of shoes, bags.
It almost blinded Qin Mo.
Could all this have been prepared by Chu Yiqin? It seemed her previous clothes had disappeared.