Wu Ling had expected that the Hall Master would vent some amount of displeasure on him over his theft of the Myriad Petals Lotus Art Sutra but he'd expected that to come in the form of unpleasant assignments, menial work, or a pile of missions undertaken for no reward other than clearing his 'debt.'
Now, however, pain flowed through his body as though he'd become a young sapling and Bian Xing's erhu bow was a saw, slowly carving its way through his flesh. The absence of visible wounds only made it worse. Wu Ling KNEW that he wasn't truly injured, that the pain his body felt was a manifestation of the Hall Master's will, and that it was all in his head and yet there was nothing he could DO to rid himself of the pain.
