Cynthia's POV
I was exhausted by the time Mark left, and it was only after he left that the wound started to flare up, gradually getting more and more painful. I knew that this was all the result of my spirit slackening off. I took out the medicine I had used to treat the wound earlier, undressed in front of the bathroom mirror, and smiled sadly as I looked at the medicine I had set aside.
I had thought that there might be a chance that I would never use these medicines again.
I gazed at myself in the mirror, the wound on the snow-white skin was blindingly deep red, hot candle oil scraped places already had blisters, I forced the pain one by one with a needle to pick through, and then sprayed with alcohol to disinfect, and finally wrapped up with gauze.
After all this, my face was very
