She looked up at him. "Don't worry. Even if I died, I wouldn't invite you and your sister to the funeral. I never want to see either of you again." "Xiang Wan," Jiang Qifeng's hand tightened around the tube of ointment, a shadow crossing his pale eyes. "You're the one who was wrong, not Qingran and I." *If anyone was going to do the avoiding, it should be him and Qingran, not the other way around.* Xiang Wan's lips twisted into a faint, scornful smile. "Coming here was a mistake. For someone like you who refuses to admit they're wrong, kneeling for two hours is nothing. You deserve to kneel for two days—two years!" Jiang Qifeng spun around and strode toward the elevators, tossing the ointment into a trash can. The tube hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud, deepening the oppressive silence in the hallway. The supervisor, flushed with rage at Xiang Wan's defiance, was about to reprimand her when the door to a private room swung open and a head poked out. "Hey, cleaner! Someone threw up in here." "Right away," Xiang Wan said, grabbing her cleaning supplies and heading into the room. The air inside was thick and hazy, a nauseating cocktail of cigarette smoke, alcohol, women's perfume, and the sour stench of vomit that made it hard for Xiang Wan to breathe. "Excuse me," she murmured, making her way with a rag toward the coffee table and sofa, both splattered with vomit. Her clear, pleasant voice cut through the smoky din, drawing the attention of several men who had been flirting with the women beside them. "Well, I was expecting some old cleaning lady, not a pretty little thing like you!" "Nice face, but I can't tell what your body's like. Why don't you take that off so I can get a better look? If you're good enough, you can be with me from now on, how about it?" "Are you blind? She's definitely got the body! Come with me, sweetheart. You'll make way more than you do here!" A torrent of crude remarks washed over her. Xiang Wan acted as if she hadn't heard a word, focusing on wiping up the mess with her rag. The sticky, slimy feeling seeped through the cloth onto her hand, and combined with the putrid smell, it sent a wave of nausea through her. She bit down hard, forcing it back. "Hey, beautiful, I got some filth on my shoe. How about you wipe it off for me?" a man said, his eyes burning into her. Xiang Wan stood up and took a step back, struggling to keep her stomach from heaving. "The rag is dirty. I'll go get a new one." She turned to leave. "Don't bother!" the man called after her, a lecherous glint in his eyes. "Coming from a beauty like you, I don't mind if it's dirty." Xiang Wan froze, her head bowed. She clutched the soiled rag, and a trickle of vomit dripped from it onto her shoes and clothes. It was a disgusting sight. Seeing this, some of the others recoiled with undisguised disgust, inching away from her. But the man’s gaze remained fixed on her, his eyes brazenly sweeping over her body. Xiang Wan licked her dry lips, walked over to him, and knelt. Before she could even find the spot on his shoe, he suddenly grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her toward him. *Thump.* She fell to her knees on the floor. Her body instinctively recoiled, and only after a moment did she realize how utterly wretched she must look. The room erupted in jeering laughter, someone even whistled. And there Xiang Wan knelt, her hair in disarray, the very picture of humiliation. Her hands were pressed against the vomit-soaked rag, and her choppy, short hair shielded the furious shame in her eyes. She bit her lip so hard her entire body trembled. There was an ashtray on the coffee table. Heavy enough to smash this man's skull in. She raised a hand toward the table, but as her fingers brushed the cold edge of the ashtray, she pulled back. Doing that would only infuriate He Hanchuan… "Hey, little sister," the man said with a smug grin, yanking her hair again. He tossed a wad of cash onto the table, his eyes filled with malice. "You help me out, and I'll give you a hundred bucks. How about it?" Xiang Wan was forced to look at his powdered face. Her stomach churned violently, and it took all her willpower not to be sick. The others in the room hooted and hollered. "Go on, gorgeous! It's a lot more than you make as a cleaner!" "Sixth Brother isn't picky, is he? She's just a janitor, spends all day cleaning toilets and wiping up filth. You should at least make her take a shower first."