No wonder it's so effective for hitting people; if it wasn't sturdy, it wouldn't be fit to serve as a prison.
Li Zhiyuan opened the wordless book again. It was still the same page, but this time, the painting had changed from a disheveled old man clutching the bars and roaring to a lady in green curled up in the corner of the cell, crying with her face covered.
With a few strokes, she was painted in a way that evoked pity.
The evil book truly wasn't lonely; even now, it was wracking its brains to spread its malevolence within its capabilities.
Li Zhiyuan quickly opened and closed the book again, and now in the painting within the cell, the lady in green turned to a lady in red, her long black hair falling down as she stood on the bench, both hands grasping the rope ring above, preparing to hang herself.
The young man gently rubbed his finger over the page.
The woman about to hang herself reached out a hand as if pleading.
