Flames spread, heat waves rolled in.
A man wearing thin rubber gloves, was sealing off the area.
Ruan Youqing wanted to rush over to stop him.
"Bang!"
A ceiling lamp above her head crashed down on her; she was smashed to the ground.
The relentless fire engulfed her.
She couldn't move, couldn't escape.
Her gaze met the man's, and the indifference in his eyes made her feel sick.
"Zhao Yixing, may you die a horrible death! Even if I become a ghost, I won't let you off…"
—
"Miss Rong."
A familiar female voice came from beside her ear.
The woman on the bed opened her eyes.
"Miss Rong, should I inform Xiao Chen to take you for medical treatment? This is the third time a nightmare has troubled you; you must have been too immersed in your role…"
"No need, go get me a glass of water."
The woman's voice was indifferent.
She knew that the maid, Hong Jie, cared about her.
But this was not a case of being too absorbed in her role, nor was it a dream.
