Her tears fell onto his palm (1)

In the quiet Hall, it was gorgeous and rich, but a bone-chilling cold wind howled.

"Miss, please raise your head and chest, again."

Aunt Xia, who was holding the whip, was cold and fierce.

Xia Bo's body had always been sensitive to pain, and her menstrual pain was enough to kill her.

Now, the whipping was no less than torture.

"Again!"

"Something's wrong!"

"Young lady is wrong again!"

"If young lady can't do it, this old servant can only beat you, beat you until you can do it!"

The whistling sound of the whip breaking through the air reverberated in the hall.

Every whip caused her skin to split open and her flesh to tear, causing her to fall to the ground again and again in pain, but this old maidservant still heartlessly urged her to continue!

"Only by suffering the most bitter of hardships can one be above others. What kind of person does young lady want to be?"

Xia Bo Li gasped, grimacing in pain as she breathed, her face as white as paper.