Fang Xuan stepped back and pulled the rod away.
Zhao Ping's battered body dangled from the ropes, his breathing shaky and labored. For a second, he felt a wave of relief, thinking the torture had finally stopped.
Maybe the pain would stop now. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get a break.
But that hope was shattered when Fang Xuan didn't walk away.
Instead, he calmly turned his back on them, heading back toward the fire.
Zhao Ping's eyes widened as he watched Fang Xuan reach into the flames, pulling out another fresh, glowing-hot metal rod.
He walked slowly back toward them, his face cold and unbothered, as if this was just another routine task.
"No… no, please…"
Fang Xuan leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "Did you also stop when my mother begged you?"
Zhao Ping was speechless. He instinctively recalled the whole incident; if they hadn't forced her, she wouldn't have had to bite her tongue off.