207: Chapter 27 The Spirit Whip!

The first half of the sentence made Qin Xiaoxi beam with joy, her large eyes lighting up once more.

But upon hearing the final "Little Qin Yan," her willow-leaf brows instantly shot up, and she looked like a cat that had its tail stepped on.

Waving her small fists in protest, she cried, "Stupid Qin Yan! Who wants to be called 'Little Qin Yan'! That sounds horrible!

If I'm going to be called anything, it should be 'Heroine Qin' or 'Fairy Qin'!

No, I don't want to be like you! I want my own title!"

The siblings laughed and played as their figures gradually disappeared at the end of the street where the lamplights intertwined. Their warm laughter dispelled the chill of the winter night.

However, under the same night sky, shadows were quietly spreading.

At past nine in the evening, after finishing her day's work, Tang Jing hailed a taxi at the entrance of the Association.

She gave the address of her residential complex, leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes, and took a short nap.

The vehicle drove smoothly.

But before long, the meticulous observation skills and a hint of uneasy intuition developed through years of clerical work made Tang Jing feel that something was slightly off.

She opened her eyes and looked at the street scenery rapidly receding outside the window.

This route... didn't seem to be her usual way home?

A hint of vigilance rose in her heart, and she quietly adjusted her sitting position.

She pretended to casually glance at the interior rearview mirror in the front row.

Reflected in the mirror was a man's profile.

His hair was a bit long, and there were many freckles on his face, which looked blurred in the dim light of the car.

His features were ordinary, the type that one would quickly forget after a single glance.

Tang Jing felt slightly relieved: "Fortunately... it's not that demon Zhang Bei who tortures and kills women..."

She had seen Zhang Bei's wanted poster; he was bald with a gentle face, quite different from the person before her.

But her vigilance was not entirely lowered.

Why would a taxi driver take a detour? And why was he driving into increasingly remote areas?

She quietly reached into her bag and gripped her phone, preparing to secretly call the police.

Whether it was a misunderstanding or not, she had to ensure her own safety first.

However, just as her fingertips touched the phone screen—

An indescribably sweet fragrance, mixed with a very faint smell of blood, quietly permeated the car cabin.

Tang Jing felt her head buzz, a strong sense of dizziness hit her, and her vision instantly went black!

"Oh no... knock-out..."

Before her last thought could finish, her consciousness plunged completely into darkness.

Her body slumped limply onto the back seat, and her phone slipped from her powerless hand.

The "driver" in the front row glanced coldly at the unconscious Tang Jing through the rearview mirror, his lips slowly curling into a cold and cruel arc.

An unknown amount of time passed before Tang Jing struggled to regain consciousness.

The moment her consciousness returned, boundless fear seized her heart!

She found herself lying on a cold, dirty iron-frame bed.

Her limbs were tightly fixed to the four corners of the bed frame with rough, tough leather straps, making her unable to move!

Dim light filtered down from broken windows high up in the warehouse.

She could barely make out her surroundings—corners filled with rusted machinery and scattered, unidentified stains.

The air was thick with the smell of rust, mold, and... a faint, lingering scent of blood!

"You're awake, Miss Tang Jing."

A voice, gentle to the point of being eerie, sounded not far away.

Tang Jing struggled to turn her neck and look toward the source of the voice.

She saw the driver sitting leisurely on an old chair.

In his hand, he was toyed with a dark red whip, its body covered in barbs!

"You... who are you?"

Tang Jing forced herself to calm down, but her voice trembled uncontrollably. "If you want money... I can give it to you. I still have some savings in my card, and at home... please don't hurt me..."

"Who am I?"

The man slowly raised his head. On that gentle face, a bizarre smile now emerged, a mixture of mockery and cruelty.

"Hasn't your Linhai City Martial Arts Association been searching the whole city for me lately, wishing they could tear me into a thousand pieces? Jie jie jie..."

He suddenly opened his mouth and let out a burst of hoarse, distorted laughter.

Because of the violent laughter, a few of the "spots" on his face flaked off.

Tang Jing was stunned at first, her eyes staring intently at his face, especially those increasingly familiar, cold, and narrow eyes.

A name that made her soul scatter exploded in her mind!

"You... you are... Zhang Bei!!!"

She screamed out, her voice cracking due to extreme terror.

Her pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints, and her body trembled violently and uncontrollably, causing the bed frame to creak beneath her.

Zhang Bei seemed to enjoy her extreme fear, the strange smile on his face growing even wider.

He stopped pretending and reached out to thoroughly wipe away the remaining disguise material on his face.

Then he casually threw the wig aside, completely revealing his bald head and that spine-chillingly "gentle" true face.

He slowly stood up, the crimson whip in his hand hanging to the ground like a living venomous snake.

The tip of the whip lightly brushed against the dirty floor, making a soft rustling sound.

"Miss Tang Jing, don't be afraid,"

"The game... is only just beginning."

He raised his arm, and the long whip traced an arc in the air.

"Here I come~"

Crack—!!

The shadow of the whip fell.

"Ah—!!"

Tang Jing couldn't help but let out a shrill scream.

Zhang Bei was expressionless, but his eyes grew brighter and brighter, filled with a focus that bordered on religious fanaticism.

The whip in his hand lashed ruthlessly at different parts of Tang Jing's body—her arms, thighs, shoulders, back, and even her cheeks!

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The whip shadows were continuous, the sound of breaking air and the sound of flesh being torn.

In this filthy room, they intertwined into a hair-raising movement of horror.

With every lash, a bloody wound was added to Tang Jing's body.

The screams continued for several hours.

From high-pitched and shrill, they gradually became hoarse and weak.

Finally, only intermittent, thread-thin moans and sobs remained.

Tang Jing's consciousness had long since blurred, and there was almost no inch of intact skin on her entire body.

Blood soaked the bed frame beneath her, dripping onto the floor and pooling into a viscous dark red.

Zhang Bei finally stopped.

He panted slightly, not from exhaustion, but from a morbid excitement.

He raised the long whip in his hand and brought it close to his eyes to examine it carefully.

The body of the whip now seemed a bit deeper in color.

There was a faint, extremely weak dark red glow, like breathing, flowing inside the whip's body.

Especially near the tip, a blood-colored twisted pattern that was originally extremely dim now seemed... clearer and brighter by a negligible fraction.

He stuck out his tongue and licked his somewhat dry and cracked lips, a look of almost pious fanaticism rising in his eyes.

"Soon... it's almost time..."