"Ah, still such hatred in your eyes? It seems the lesson earlier was indeed too light for you. Here, since you've had enough water, let's move on to other condiments. Bring her another drink."
During his speech, another man came over, holding a big pot of dark stuff in his hands.
Anying caught only a glance and could almost guess—it was likely vinegar.
Having water splashed on her face was already agonizing; if it were changed to corrosive vinegar, for Anying, it would feel like a fate worse than death.
Having no choice, as one must bow their head under another's roof, and realizing she probably could not escape this time,
When the vinegar was once again poured onto the paper, Anying just held her breath tightly, and this time, she even gave up struggling.
The more she struggled, the greater the pain. Thus, she preferred to wait quietly here. If it was indeed her time to die here, then struggling or not, the outcome would be the same.
