In the second-floor bathroom, water streamed down from the showerhead, drenching Han Yichen's delicate face that seemed like it could shatter with a flick.
But at this moment, Han Yichen was expressionless, her head tilted back under the showerhead, as if she had nothing left to live for.
This day was bound to be the greatest disaster of her life.
Her free soul had fallen and died upon entering this villa, leaving behind nothing but a shell, a poor creature sacrificing her body for the sake of her family.
The warm shower water washed over her body, time and again.
After a full half-hour, the shower water finally ceased.
With a vacant gaze, she used the hairdryer to dry her flaxen soft hair, then opened the bathroom door. A cloud of steam rushed out, and she stepped into the bedroom on her right in white slippers.
This was Ye Tian's room, Zhao Huimin cleaned it every day, keeping it very neat and tidy.