In the Infernal Palace, inside a house owned by Xue Ying.
He was currently alone, curled up on a bed, trembling and perspiring so much it looked like starch paste had formed. He gritted his teeth so that only the quiet sound of his breathing could be heard. Unknowingly, he had been rolling left to right on the bed.
Soundlessly and ceaselessly, his soul was crying out in agonizing pain.
There was nobody other than him in the house. Jing Qiu had originally wanted to stay with him through the night, but he had chased her out instead; he didn’t want his pain and suffering to be seen. On top of that, there was nothing Jing Qiu could do even if she was by his side, so, understanding his pride, she could only nod and leave him alone.
The night passed. Outside, the sky was brightening up as the sun rose.
But the pain he felt was only getting more excruciating. Gradually, it was approaching a peak.
