The cold water splashed on his face, and the broken ice embedded in the wound. Xubu Yong let out a scream and was awakened from his coma.
Zhou Juecao held the wooden tablet in his hand and signaled to the jailer on the side. The latter grabbed the whip and used all his strength to whip Xubu Yong with continuous cracking sounds, making him howl like a ghost.
Screams were heard from the torture room, echoing in the corridor. Sitting in the cell, Xubli turned pale and trembled all over as he thought that it would be his turn soon.
The shouting lasted for half an incense stick of time. Zhou Juecao signaled the jailer to stop, and lifted Xubu Yong's chin with the tip of his sharp knife. He said in a cold voice: "How many soldiers does King Zuo Tuqi have? How many tribes are under his command? How many people are there? How many cattle and sheep are there? How do you migrate every year?"
Xubu Yong's eyelids were red and swollen, and blood mixed with cold sweat blurred his vision. His throat became hoarse from screaming in pain, and he felt the sharp pain in his jaw. He trembled all over, and finally confessed, giving Zhou Juecao the answer he wanted.
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