Chapter 167: The Devil Takes a Step Further
The faint creak of a door being pushed open echoed through the dim room.
Then came the sound of shuffling, deliberate and menacing.
Liang Xiaoluo's body shivered as she felt an icy chill spread across her back. She frowned in discomfort, sucking in a sharp breath as her blurred vision began to adjust.
What she saw when her sight cleared made her blood run cold.
The room was small, damp, and eerily familiar. It was the same torture chamber where Ye Tianlin had tormented her before.
"Tianlin, what… what are you doing?" Xiaoluo stammered, her voice trembling with fear. She struggled weakly, but her body felt heavy, as if drained of all strength. His iron grip on her hair ensured she couldn't move.
Was he insane?
Were they really returning to this hell?
Her gaze darted around, taking in the sinister gleam of the cruel tools hanging on the walls. The sight drained the last remnants of warmth from her body, leaving her cold and numb.
"Tianlin!" she called out again, desperation clawing at her voice.
"Do you even realize what you've done? You killed my grandfather," he said at last, his voice sharp and unyielding.
"No, I didn't! Tianlin, it wasn't me!" Xiaoluo pleaded, her voice cracking as her panic rose.
Her feeble denials were met with icy indifference.
Ye Tianlin dragged her further into the room until they stopped in front of a cold, iron chair. With a single movement, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and threw her down onto the chair.
"Prove it," he demanded, his tone mocking as he strapped her arms and legs to the chair's cold, unyielding metal.
Xiaoluo's breath came in shallow, panicked gasps. She tugged weakly at the restraints, but they didn't budge.
Deep down, guilt pricked at her. Though she hadn't killed Ye Lao, she had always carried the weight of unspoken blame, fearing her presence had caused the old man undue stress.
"Maybe Hualin was right," she thought bitterly. "Maybe I really am a sinner."
"Here's your chance to prove your innocence," Tianlin sneered, opening a small wooden box at the chair's side.
The sharp glint of silver reflected in her eyes, blinding her momentarily.
When her vision cleared, she saw a neat row of slender silver needles nestled inside the box.
Her stomach turned.
Was he really going to use those on her?
"Tianlin… you can't mean to…" Her voice broke as her fear rose to a crescendo.
"I'll ask you one more time," he said coldly, plucking a needle from the box and holding it in front of her trembling hand. "Why did you kill my grandfather?"
"Tianlin, please…" Xiaoluo's voice came out as a whisper.
"Save your breath," he said, his lips curling into a dark smile. "You'd better pray you can endure this."
Before she could react, he drove the needle straight into the soft flesh between her fingers.
The pain was blinding.
"Ah!" she cried out, her body convulsing involuntarily.
Tianlin pulled the needle out slowly, savoring her agony. Blood welled up from the puncture, dripping rhythmically onto the floor.
"This is your punishment," he said, his tone devoid of emotion.
Xiaoluo's heart ached as much as her body. She forced her eyes open to meet his gaze, her voice shaking as she asked, "Why… why are we back here again?"
For a moment, his hand hesitated. But just as quickly, his eyes hardened, and he drove another needle into her finger.
"Tianlin…" she gasped, her voice faltering as her body convulsed from the shock of pain. "Even if you hate me… even if you blame me… I only wish for your happiness."
Her words hung in the air, a soft echo that seemed to momentarily pierce his icy facade. His eyes flickered with something unnameable—regret, doubt, or perhaps even longing—before turning cold again.
"Don't flatter yourself," he sneered, reaching for another needle.
Xiaoluo flinched as he jabbed it into her finger with deliberate cruelty, the blood flowing freely now.
"Tianlin, please…" she murmured weakly, her head lolling to the side.
"Stop trying to manipulate me," he hissed, his voice razor-sharp. "This is far from over."
By the time every one of her fingers bore a silver needle, Xiaoluo's strength had completely left her. Her head drooped as consciousness began to slip away.
But even unconsciousness was denied her. A sharp slap to her cheek jolted her awake, her vision spinning.
"Don't think fainting will get you out of this," Tianlin said, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
Xiaoluo blinked through her tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "I believe… you'll remember me. You'll remember us…"
Her words only seemed to enrage him further. He reached for the lever by her chair and flipped it.
The chair tilted forward, forcing her to stand. The restraints on her wrists and ankles kept her in place, but her legs trembled under the weight of her own body.
As the chair locked into its new position, Tianlin stepped away, returning moments later with a long, leather whip in hand.
Xiaoluo's heart plummeted.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Tianlin raised the whip, his eyes devoid of the warmth they once held.
"Let's see if you can still claim innocence," he said darkly, his arm swinging down.
The whip cracked through the air, the sound splitting the heavy silence of the room.
And the nightmare began anew.