"Ow... Shui Xing, gentler, gentler, gentler..."
Liu Zhizhong yelped in pain, his face contorted and ugly, so very real.
His tall frame slumped, as if he was being squeezed to death by Zhang Yuxing, giving her quite the thrill—a delight in training and controlling men.
"Ah, feeling the pain now, are you? So, are you going to talk or not?"
"Ah, Shui Xing, it's all old history, stale as moldy sesame seeds. Zhang Hongyang still can't let it go, really small-minded..."
"Shut up!" Zhang Yuxing twisted her hand even tighter, then yanked upward, "Of course you've forgotten, huh? After sleeping with the belle of the school and taking your advantage, you just don't care anymore, treating it like stale sesame seeds! But Hongyang really had genuine feelings, it looks to be engraved in his bones, he's out for blood with you... are you going to talk or not?"
Liu Zhizhong grimaced in pain, nearly making a gesture of surrender, "I'll talk, I'll talk, isn't that enough? But let go first!"