Jing Yuan didn't speak. Of course, she knew. This was all to provoke Jing Xin. Xiuling, that twisted creature, harbored a petty heart. Jing Xin had been imprisoned for two years now, and she neither visited earlier nor later. Instead, she came now, right at the peak of his demonic metamorphosis, when his physical state was at its zenith. Wasn't this deliberate, purely here to make people sick?
"Could you tone it down? After all, he's my brother..."
"But deep down, you'd love for me to utterly humiliate him, wouldn't you? After all, you threw six years of your youth at that mangy dog. If he had remained oblivious, wouldn't your body have eventually fallen into his hands too?"
"You..."
This was Jing Yuan's deepest scar, something no one should touch. Yet Xiuling had torn it apart with just one sentence. Jing Yuan froze on the spot; her emotions exploded in an instant, and tears swelled up in her eyes.
