Chapter 118: Punching Bag (2)

"Your butt," Jian Yiling replied nonchalantly.

The butt was arguably the best target for a beating. It had plenty of flesh, no vital organs, and typically wouldn't cause any serious harm if struck. However, the pain in that area could be just as intense as in other parts of the body. So, when it came to hitting someone, the buttocks were indeed the optimal choice.

Ji Ming's eyes widened in disbelief. *I'm already seventeen, and now someone wants to hit my butt?!* The person ordering this, Jian Yiling, was holding his badminton racket with a serious expression as if issuing a command.

Ji Ming's instincts kicked in; he flat-out refused. This is an insult I can't tolerate. How can they bully me like this?*

"Jian Yiling, don't go too far! I'm a man!" Ji Ming gritted his teeth, feeling both angry and anxious.

Zhai Yunsheng merely shot a glance at his bodyguard, who, without hesitation, moved in and forced Ji Ming into position.

"Get down," the bodyguard commanded.

Ji Ming felt completely helpless as the two imposing bodyguards restrained him. He turned his head to glance at Jian Yiling, who was now poised with his badminton racket. At that moment, his entire being sank into despair. 

"Just one hit," Jian Yiling instructed.

That sounded somewhat reassuring. Ji Ming hoped that maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all. But as Jian Yiling swung the racket playfully, mimicking the act of hitting him, his heart raced with dread.

Oh my goodness, could she not just get it over with? Ji Ming silently pleaded, wishing Jian Yiling would make it swift and merciful.

After practicing a few swings, Jian Yiling suddenly changed her grip on the racket. Instead of holding it like a regular badminton racket, she grabbed it by the netted section, aiming the handle directly at Ji Ming.

Realizing that Jian Yiling had previously endured two of his schemes, she likely deemed that a mere hit wouldn't suffice. 

Watching this unfold, Yu Xi's mouth dropped open as he felt a strange sense of disbelief. Jian Yiling looks so cute and harmless, yet what she's doing… emmmm… seems rather vicious!

Ji Ming's shock only deepened, and he couldn't help but plead for mercy. "Jian Yiling, don't do this! I was wrong! I truly regret it…"

But before he could finish his desperate plea, Jian Yiling swung the racket, delivering a resounding whack to his backside.

Ji Ming's body froze, unable to scream in pain. My butt…

At his age, he had never experienced such an impactful blow. He collapsed to the ground, unable to rise. The pain radiated through him; even if the bodyguards let go, he wasn't getting up anytime soon.

Just watching Ji Ming writhe on the floor was enough for Yu Xi to sense the intensity of his suffering from his contorted facial expression. The look of sheer agony was unmistakable.

Now, not only was Ji Ming still recovering from the pain of his previous five thousand skips, but he had also added a new injury to the mix.

After delivering the blow, Jian Yiling walked back to the sofa and sat down beside Zhai Yunsheng. Zhai Yunsheng wore a smirk, glancing at Jian Yiling. "Did your hand turn red?"

Jian Yiling opened her palm and inspected it. It was slightly flushed, likely from gripping the racket too tightly earlier.

Yu Xi rubbed his nose in bewilderment. Young Master Sheng, isn't your focus a bit off? The guy over there can't even get up, and you're asking if Yiling's hand is red…

After what felt like an eternity, Ji Ming managed to endure the initial wave of pain, but he still didn't dare to rise. Even the slightest movement sent sharp pain shooting through him. 

Resigned, he lay flat on the floor, engaging in a desperate dialogue with Zhai Yunsheng and Jian Yiling. "Young Master Sheng, I swear I understand my mistakes! I promise I won't dare to do anything like that again! Please, spare me!"

Ji Ming genuinely feared that if Jian Yiling decided to swing that racket one more time, he wouldn't survive the encounter. The memory of the strike lingered painfully, and the last thing he wanted was to be the subject of another round of retribution.