CHAPTER 124: CHAPTER 124; NOW WE ARE DONE HERE...

The knife glinted again under the light as Jin Zhou crouched before Bai Zhi. He didn’t rush; cruelty in his hands was an art that demanded patience.

"Let’s make sure your lover remembers this face every time he closes his eyes," he said softly, as though sharing a private joke. His gloved fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze despite the tremble in her jaw.

Bai Zhi tried to twist away, but the guard behind her pressed a forearm to her throat, pinning her in place. Her muffled cries scraped against the walls.

The first press of the blade dug deeper this time, cutting from just below her cheekbone toward the corner of her mouth. Hot blood welled instantly, running in a thin rivulet over her lips.

Shen Xiao strained against the ropes, the fibers tearing into his skin. "Enough!" His words were cut off by a brutal kick to the side of his head, sending him sprawling onto the cold floor.

Jin Zhou tilted his head, studying his work like a sculptor appraising marble. "Not bad," he murmured. "But... still too recognizable."

The blowtorch hissed to life, a tongue of blue flame snapping in the dim light. Bai Zhi’s eyes went wide, terror stripping her of even the strength to cry. The guards held her firm as the heat neared her skin, the smell of singed hair already sharp in the air.

"Burns heal ugly," Jin Zhou said conversationally, almost cheerfully. "And ugly... is forever."

Shen Xiao’s roar was hoarse, almost inhuman, but the sound was drowned beneath the low, hungry hiss of the flame closing in.

Her nails clawed at the floorboards, legs kicking weakly as the men behind her held her down. Shen Xiao lunged forward, the rope biting into his wrists, but two heavy boots crashed into his ribs, forcing him back to his knees.

Jin Zhou didn’t look up. He traced the blade deliberately, carving a cruel path toward her cheekbone, "Such a pretty thing," he said softly, almost in awe. "Shame it’s wasted on a liar."

Bai Zhi’s sobs broke into jagged gasps, her face twisting in pain. Shen Xiao’s voice was raw when it tore from his throat.

"Stop..!"

Jin Zhou’s gaze finally flicked to him. "You are not in control here, Shen Xiao. But... maybe you’d like to be useful."

He snapped his fingers, and one of the guards stepped forward, tossing a thin stack of papers onto the floor before Shen Xiao. The top sheet was already prepared, a divorce agreement.

"You sign," Jin Zhou said, wiping the blade on Bai Zhi’s blood-streaked dress, "and maybe I will leave her with one good side of her face. Refuse..." His eyes darkened, the cold promise of what came next written in the slight curl of his lips. "...and we will keep carving until there’s nothing left worth looking at."

Shen Xiao stared at the papers, chest heaving, the ink pen clattering at his knees. Bai Zhi’s blood dripped steadily onto the floor between them, each drop like a countdown.

A sharp kick to his side forced him forward, his bound hands shaking as they cut the rope just enough for him to hold the pen. His vision swam, from the pain, from the rage.

The pen clattered against the table, rolling until it tapped the edge and stilled.

Jin Zhou’s eyes dropped to it, then rose slowly to meet Shen Xiao’s. The faint curl of a smile tugged at his mouth, not one of amusement, but of warning.

"You think you still have choices," he said, voice quiet, almost conversational. "You don’t."

One of the guards shifted behind him, stepping closer to where Bai Zhi sat, her wrists raw against the restraints, her breathing ragged. The faint metallic scent of blood clung to the air.

Shen Xiao’s gaze flicked to her, the jagged cut along her cheekbone still oozed in thin, uneven lines. She was trembling, but her eyes were locked on him, pleading without words.

Jin Zhou reached for the pen himself, setting it neatly back in front of Shen Xiao, his gloved fingertips lingering just long enough to make the point.

"Sign it," he murmured, "or she walks out of here with nothing left of the face you once kissed."

Shen Xiao’s jaw worked, muscles tight, but his hand didn’t move.

The sound of a chair scraping the floor was abrupt in the small room. One of the guards lifted Bai Zhi’s chin, pressing the flat blade against her other cheek, the side still unmarked.

Shen Xiao’s hand twitched toward the pen.

"Ah," Jin Zhou said softly, "there’s the obedience I like to see."

The pen felt heavier this time as Shen Xiao gripped it. His signature, when it came, was deliberate but uneven, the ink pooling where his fingers pressed too hard. Each stroke was a surrender.

When he finished, Jin Zhou took the paper, glanced at it, and slid it into a waiting folder.

"Good. Now we are done here," he said, standing. "For today."

But his look at Bai Zhi promised that "today" had only been a warning.

The blade lifted from Bai Zhi’s cheek, leaving only a faint indent in her skin, no blood this time. She flinched when the guard let go of her chin, her breathing ragged but silent.

Shen Xiao’s eyes followed Jin Zhou, unblinking, even as the restraints on Bai Zhi were tightened again. The sound of leather pulling taut was deliberate, meant to remind him that nothing had changed except the terms.

Jin Zhou slid the signed papers into his folder with almost ceremonial care. "Leave them," he told the guards, his voice cool. "They can think about what happens when I’m not in a generous mood."

Bai Zhi’s gaze darted to Shen Xiao, but he didn’t look at her this time. His attention stayed fixed on Jin Zhou’s retreating back, memorizing every step.

The door opened, a shaft of light spilling in from the corridor, and then shut with a heavy finality, plunging the room back into its dim stillness.