If anyone's movements were even slightly slow, they would get a whipping.
The evening sun shone on everyone, but it brought no warmth, only a bone-chilling cold.
An old man, with inconvenient legs, carrying firewood, suddenly fell on the path. However, the Chen Clan soldier in charge of overseeing everyone immediately whipped him without mercy.
With a crisp snap of the whip, Qing Chen turned his head to look, only to find that it was Zard who had sprawled over the old man, shielding him from the lash.
"Feeling sympathetic, huh?" The Chen Clan soldier sneered, lashing down another dozen or so times, tearing Zard's clothes to shreds on his back.
This time, Zard was very cautious, even controlling his body to abandon elementalization and endured the pain with his flesh and blood. Otherwise, if he didn't show injuries after those dozen lashes, he would be suspected.
At a certain moment, Qing Chen felt as if there were two souls inside Zard, one serious, the other not.
