The man before her was naked, his arms splayed on the cross, thin steel wires wrapped around him, digging into his skin, blood unceasingly gushing out, dripping to the ground, leaving a trail of bloodstains that alternately dried and dampened.
His once bronzed, robust chest was now riddled with scars, skin split and flesh torn, a bloody mess, blood congealing into a dark red, then covered anew with fresh blood.
She even saw some crystals on his body, looking like sugar or salt.
Then she noticed beside the cross, there was a barrel of liquid, resembling saline.
Maimai bit her lip, biting fiercely, reaching out her hand, trembling as she tried to touch the whip marks on his body, yet she dared not touch; her heart already ached as if it were dying.
Ultimately, she chose his face, gently stroking, tiptoeing, imprinting a delicate kiss upon his cracked, blood-covered lips.
Sheng Sheng's head hung powerless, wanting to break free from her kiss, but he had no strength, not a sliver.
