The maid's whip lashed down on Duan Qinglan's back over and over, tearing her clothes and leaving streaks of blood on her delicate skin.
Fortunately, her wounds healed quickly, and the blood from the whip marks dried up within a minute or two, forming a fresh, bright scab.
"Madam, the lesson is done."
The whipping had lasted for nearly half an hour when the maid stopped and reminded Duan Qinglan.
"Let me down," Duan Qinglan said softly.
The pulley holding the chains began to turn, and Duan Qinglan slowly descended to the floor.
When her feet touched the tiles, Si Ming held her gently and carefully removed the iron hook from her collarbone.
"You don't need to be so careful. Every instance of *pain* is to awaken the fire," Duan Qinglan said wearily, leaning her head against Si Ming's shoulder.
"Madam is right."
