Ning Mingda cried like a child.
Utterly disheveled.
Deep in his heart, he wished he could tear the person who set him up into pieces!
As he wept, Ning Jianhua chastised himself.
Without uttering a single word in response, another lash whipped through the air.
A fierce gust of wind struck his face.
Nervously, Ning Mingda clenched his eyes shut.
But unexpectedly,
that whip did not land on him.
It swept past his ear.
And struck the table.
The porcelain vase on the table was hit and shattered into pieces on the floor.
"Dad?" Ning Mingda opened his eyes, full of confusion.
Ning Jianhua collected the whip with smooth, practiced movements.
Darkness clouded his eyes.
"What's this about you seizing the peasants' communal property, as mentioned in the letter?"
As he spoke, the whip struck the palm of his hand, making a crackling sound.
To Ning Mingda, this sound was like the bell of doom.
Ning Mingda shook his head frantically.
