There was a loud noise echoing in Lu Jin's ears. His closed eyes fluttered and opened slowly, showing a pair of misty, ink-black eyes.
Lu Jin groggily woke up from the sound of knocking on the door. He strained to move his sluggish body.
Clink.
The metallic sound of collision sounded as the chains around him moved. His clothes were in tatters. There was no part of his body that was not covered by his blood.
Ming Zhi Yi was standing on one side. He was wiping the knives he had previously used on his own son. The bloody whip was on the floor.
The way he wiped the knife in a calm manner made Lu Jin know that his father was still seething in anger.
Ming Zhi Yi stopped his actions suddenly. His dark eyes turned towards him.
Empty, like bottomless holes.
"You woke up."
Lu Jin was silent. Every inch of his body was painful. Just a little movement felt like he was being tortured again.
