Beautiful, just so beautiful!
Mi Zheng admitted that he couldn't take his eyes off her. The sight of Mu Lin was the most captivating.
Ten holes, fifty-six wounds.
Doubled, that's twenty holes, one hundred and twelve wounds. By the time Mu Lin was done, Tang Qian was nothing but a pool of blood, each patch of skin on his body marred, his form collapsed on the ground.
Tang Qian's breaths were barely noticeable now, his pain intolerable. His wounds had already gone from hurting to being almost numb from the pain.
Nonchalantly discarding the thoroughly blood-stained knife to one side, Mu Lin delightedly watched Tang Qian. "Mr. Tang Qian, how does it feel?" It must be rather pleasant, she figured.
"If...you...have...the guts,...kill...me." Tang Qian had almost totally exhausted at this point. He could feel his life leaving him but the things Mu Lin had made him ingest were keeping him from dying that easily.
