Bang! Bang! Bang!
The dull thud of beating echoed through the streets.
"Twenty, nineteen…"
Lin Jingzhu's Black Stick, heavy as a thousand pounds, whistled down with each strike, tearing the burly man's clothes and blurring his flesh with blood. Splatters of blood painted her fair cheeks, lending her beauty a sickly radiance.
By now, the burly man had stopped moving.
He realized the more he cursed, the harder she struck, and sometimes she would even deliberately count wrong to give a few extra hits. So, he chose to play dead and keep silent.
Chen Mo watched the scene with great interest.
This woman's blows seemed ferocious, yet she managed the force just right. The man was in bone-deep pain with not a single unbruised area from his waist to his legs, yet his life was not in danger. Every time the burly man tried to muster his energy to fight back, the stick precisely cut off his flow of Qi, forcing him to be honest and take the beating.
