His eyes are wide open, but they are unfocused, staring blankly at the void. Xian Rong knew that he was only temporarily stimulated by pain, but his consciousness did not really wake up. Offering capacity stuffed the spit wooden strip back into his mouth, and cut the black flesh of his wound open with malicious heart. He was sweating with pain, and he couldn't bear to look straight at the painful expression on his face.
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