Just tie her up then!
Lin Qiao turned her back on him in frustration. This couldn't continue. If he always "forced" her to comply, wouldn't she end up like a fish on a chopping board?
Even though she thought this way, she said, "I won't regret it. I'm not at ease with you being out there alone."
Since she had lost the power of choice, she might as well take the opportunity to gain some goodwill.
"Pinky swear."
Song Tingfan extended his hand. Lin Qiao, half crying, half laughing, turned to pinky-swear with him. "Pinky swear, if you break it, you're a puppy."
Their big and small thumbs gently touched.
It's a dream.
The silent cell was filled with a thick scent of blood. Footsteps echoed from afar, drawing closer, making it hard to breathe.
The person hanging lifelessly on the cross slowly lifted their head—it was a woman whose original appearance couldn't be discerned, her face crisscrossed with scars.
