It was Su Yue's turn.
"Where are the herbs?"
The Yangxiang Race guarding the gate, a third-rank, looked at Su Yue with disdain.
Losers from the Banner Garrison Camp are doomed to have no dignity.
"None."
As Su Yue finished speaking, he turned around, leaving his back to the whip.
The martial artists in front of him did the same, and Su Yue learned quite naturally.
If he went back to gather herbs now, he might easily arouse suspicion from those with ulterior motives.
Crack!
A crisp sound.
Su Yue was whipped, skin torn and bleeding.
Fortunately, it's just skin injuries, still within bearable range.
Crack!
The second whip struck, and Su Yue let out a painful howl, his face contorted.
Of course, it wasn't unbearable pain.
Su Yue had to act normal; it's rare for someone not to scream after the second whip.
Crack!
After the third whip, although Su Yue could still stand, he staggered and leaned against the wall to barely walk inside.
This was also acting.
