Ye Qingchen coldly watched Old San's expression change, seemingly having seen through his struggle. His fingers lightly traced in the air, as if contemplating what cruel act to inflict on Old Da or Old Er next, the sneer on his lips grew more intense.
To Ye Qingchen, the silence before him was a form of control, a victory. He knew that with just a little threat, Old San would eventually succumb.
"Time's running out, Old San," Ye Qingchen said coolly, "I'm happy to help you make this decision, but I'm afraid that would be even more painful. You'd better answer quickly, otherwise, the next thing could be your arm."
Old San's heart wavered under such strong threats, a hint of fear and helplessness in his eyes.
He knew he was trapped in an inescapable predicament; if he continued to remain silent, not only he but also his brothers would face even more terrifying torture. Ultimately, his mental defenses crumbled, seemingly having made some sort of decision.
