"Ah!"
In the dilapidated kiln house, the sound of a woman's painful cry echoed.
The sound was excruciatingly harsh, as if she was undergoing the agony of being flayed and dismembered, making anyone listening get goosebumps.
Luo Qingtong's expression was indifferent, holding Ye Qianming while waiting outside, with a flattering, obsequious bandit leader by her side.
"Miss, rest assured, everything is done according to your instructions, and the treatment Luo Xinning is enjoying now is all arranged by herself previously," he said, rubbing his hands.
"Those clients, I found them from various places with special tastes, ensuring that Luo Xinning feels worse than death every time."
Luo Qingtong glanced at him but didn't speak.
Luo Xinning was indeed enduring a fate worse than death.
The other party was just an embellishment at best.
