Fu Nancheng still hung his head in silence.
Not long after, his entire face started to turn pale.
The iron rod had already been bent, revealing its sharp edges.
Each time it struck his leg, it easily left a trail of blood.
The black trousers were instantly torn into strips, and blood trickled down his legs, pooling into a bloody puddle beside them…
Yet he remained as still as a small mountain, unmoving.
Fu Qingrou slowly raised her hand, and the strong man stopped his actions.
She walked up to him and said coldly, "Nancheng, if you regret now, it's still not too late."
He didn't even open his eyes, just said in a deep voice, "Aunt, go ahead."
Fu Qingrou's eyes turned red with anger as she shouted, "Have you forgotten how she treated you back then! Is she worth it!"
He finally slowly opened his eyes but somehow,
He remembered her gentle smile toward him.
Remembered her blushing earlobe out of shyness.
Remembered her tears…
His vision started to blur.
