Early in the morning, Dingyou came to prison.

After a while, he ordered three people and asked Feng Rugu with a smile: "Daojun, are you willing to change?"

In just one day and one night, the prisoners of the Taoist lords were like a pile of lost water, quickly becoming haggard and decayed.

Upon hearing this, three pairs of dry eyes looked straight at Feng Rugu, silently begging for a road of life.

Feng Rugu didn't say much, stretched like a cat, and crawled out of the straw nest he had carefully packed out: "...Let's go."

The three of them suddenly relaxed their tense shoulders and let out a sigh of relief.

Feng Rugu passed by them. Seeing their expressions like this, he couldn't think of what to react, so he finally got amused.

But Ding You obviously did not intend to let them go easily like this. After escorting Feng Ruyuan, he asked his bloody disciples to push them out too.

When they were sent into an empty room, they crowded together anxiously, just thinking that Dingyou wanted to regret it.

When they looked closely, they found that their weapons were thrown away in the middle of the room, and they were piled up like broken copper and iron.

Only "Yesterday" and "Today" are highly valued and are listed by Dingyou alone.

Their minds and natures have been worn out to the point of being extremely cowardly. Not to mention the scene of the insult of the Immortal Blade, they dare not even be angry.

Dingyou had no time to waste time on them and stood against the wall: "Which are your weapons, each?"

When Dingyou held three weapons in his hand and walked into the torture room, Feng Ruju had been hung on the torture rack and looked around lazyly.

The wooden punishment rack was soaked in blood, and it showed a glaze that was nearly black, so bright that it seemed to have been soaked in sesame oil.

The boy on the torture rack yawned and said in a daze: "Don't you have to sleep?"

Because he was worried that Feng Rugu would commit suicide and avoid punishment, and because of the excitement of his wish, Ding You did not sleep all night, his eyes were pale blue. Now that he saw Feng Rugu, he was in a good mood, he was simply unbelievable: "Daojun Feng is sleeping well?"

Why can he still sleep now?

Feng Rugu said, "I haven't slept like this for a long time, thank you for the hospitality."

He thanked him sincerely, but Ding You was full of anger when he thanked him.

He threw the three weapons at Feng Rugu's feet: "This is your torture instrument today."

With his order, Feng Ruyuan's pants were stripped off, and the fine fishing net was wrapped around him, tightening his flesh.

Feng Rugu is a natural porcelain embryo, with a snow-colored skin swaying straight to his eyes. The place where the fishing net was slightly sunken quickly turned red. Each piece of meat had four big words "spoiled and spoiled" written on it.

The demonic Taoist holding a phoenix-mouthed sword was very hesitant.

This outstanding skin made him almost know where to cut the knife.

However, the knife finally fell down inflexibly.

At first, Feng Rugu felt that the scratched part was burning like hot water, and then there was a dense and stinging pain, like hundreds of oxen chewing at the base of his legs, and swearing to share it and eat it.

Feng Rugu's tongue tip was pressed against the root of his teeth, his body trembled slightly, his cheeks bulged out in a circle, and he sucked his breath in deep and shallow mouth.

Dingyou really thought this person had a bronze and iron bone. Now, seeing that he frowned and felt painful, he finally felt proud.

The three swords cut very quickly, and Dingyou was even a little unsatisfied.

But he told himself that it was still a long time.

He showed his eyes and the bloody disciple in his hands immediately understood and poured a jug of vinegar into the wound.

After adding vinegar to the body, the wound was stimulated and it contracted like a fear of pain.

The blood mixed with black vinegar was diluted into dripping blood, which flowed down the porcelain white legs.

Ding You explained thoughtfully: "This is used to prevent excessive bleeding. Feng Daojun said it right. I don't want you to die, I just want you to live for a long time."

He was looking forward to Feng Rugu's scolding him.

This will be the beginning of his will collapse.

Soon, Feng Rugu raised his head as he wished, and raised the corner of his mouth in cold sweat.

He said, "Then I will lend you a good word."

Dingyou immediately became angry, but the fire could not be revealed on the face, and he felt even more heartbroken.

He said with his teeth: "Today's work is over, and Jun Feng can continue to go back to sleep now."

When Feng Rugu went back, he walked in the shadows, dragging the injured leg with acetic acid smell, jumping around and jingling.

Looking at his back, Ding You's mouth slowly twitched.

He wanted to see how long Feng Rugu could endure it!

The bloody disciple who was in charge of the execution came forward to complain: "Sect Master, the ones you sent are all long soldiers, which are not very easy."

"Just use it." Ding You said, "I will use their weapons to cut off the flesh that has become the same."

He looked at Feng Ruguru's brisk back with a smile and no smile: "Even if I want them to go out alive, I will think of Feng Ruguru when I pick up weapons in this life."

...

When Feng Rugu returned to the cage, the atmosphere in the prison was indescribable.

Their attitude towards him became uncharacteristically warm.

Someone quickly helped him sit down, some asked about his well-being, some tore off their clothes, and they leaned straight into Feng Rugu's eyes, saying that they wanted to bandage him.

But those cares fell into Feng Rugu's ears and became a buzzing noise, which was of no use except to add bricks and tiles to his pain.

Feng Rugu said irritably: "Shut up!"

There was a silence around.

He gasped: "I don't have the heart to deal with your little thoughts. I'm not doing this for you to please me. Those who are conscious of each other, don't bother me."

Feng Rugu finally won a quiet spot for himself.

He lay on the ground, gasping slightly.

Sweat was so hot that it flowed down his eyes, and he had to lie on his back, pulling his clothes, thinking about something happy.

He thought that Senior Brother Chang should still be in seclusion now, and perhaps his injury will be healed when he comes out of seclusion.

He thought that the master's wife would definitely say that he was stupid, but since he was injured, he had enough capital to act spoiled. I believe that the master would risk not getting out of bed and protect himself more.

He thought that when Xiao Hongchen entered Fengling, he should call him Master.

The senior brother has no apprentice yet, he already has it.

Who wouldn't envy a good and beautiful child as his disciple as a beautiful and well-behaved child?

However, it would be useless for him to think more.

The body refused to deceive him.

The wound hurt unreasonably, burning into his body with sparks and lightning.

He had no spiritual power and was unable to heal the wound, so he could only ruminate on this pain for a long time.

The pain spread to his stomach, and it was so loud that it was like a huge thunder passing through the border, which made his chest feel stuffy.

Dingyou sealed their spiritual power, and was afraid that they would starve to death, so he could not experience the torture of living like a year, so he sent some food.

Someone broke the steamed buns and soaked them in water and sent them to his lips.

He shook his head.

...He was full of pain.

And this is just the beginning of torture.

Every morning, Feng Rugu would be pulled on his neck and taken out by someone.

After half an hour, he will be brought back again.

Walk from west to east, and then from east to west.

Every day, he would travel the street twice in front of his fellow Taoists.

Few people dared to look at him directly. They would just move their butts, separate silently and proactively to the sides, and then be their little quail with peace of mind.

Gradually, Feng Rugu's journey back and forth was stained with blood dripping from his trousers.

At first it was three or two drops, but over time, a colorful blood path was created.

Feng Rugu stepped on his own blood and moved forward step by step, as if stepping on a path of blooming flowers.

One day, two days, five days, ten days... twenty days.

He stopped talking.

He began to sleep for a long time to avoid pain.

Feng Rugu's face was pale with excessive blood loss. When he lay there, he was as thin as he could only have a thin body, as if he would melt into the wind at any time.

Feng Rugu felt like a delicate and priceless celadon, which was grabbed by someone at the mouth of the bottle and fell to the wall over and over again, causing large pieces of cracks.

He could only barely hold on to himself.

More than thirty days, or one night more than 40 days later, Feng Rugu was suddenly awakened by pain.
To be continued...