The Iron Whip cracked down again, slapping against her body.
Another intense pain covered her back, making Wen Jiaren's face turn pale with fright.
She braced herself to keep from collapsing to the ground, her body trembling uncontrollably from the unbearable pain. Clenching her teeth, she felt the wet sensation of blood seeping out of her back.
Soon, her beige knit shirt was stained red with blood.
The woman pulled the whip back, and the third lash struck down fiercely.
Soon, Wen Jiaren's entire back was drenched in blood, her clothes shredded by the barbs on the whip, fraying threads hanging loose in disarray.
Another whip cracked down, causing everyone to involuntarily gasp at the sight of the blood-soaked Iron Whip in the woman's hand.
Ding Chenmo clenched his fists tightly, watching the bloodless face of the woman, several times he nearly couldn't help but speak out to stop it.
One lash followed another, yet Wen Jiaren kept biting down on her teeth.
