Yan Junye looked down at the lighter and cigarettes he had placed on the ground, and after a moment, he got the implication and gave a bitter smile, "Alright, I understand."
He pulled out a cigarette, picked up the lighter to ignite it, put the cigarette in his mouth, took a puff, and when the tip was burning red hot, he withdrew it. With a flick of his wrist, he pressed the red-hot tip against his inner thigh.
The flesh at the root of the thigh is among the tenderest on the body.
Even though he was mentally prepared, he still flinched from the pain, his face turning pale instantly.
The cigarette butt pressed against his thigh quickly extinguished.
He looked up at Jing Shun.
Jing Shun was leaning against the wall, lazily watching him.
He knew this meant he was supposed to continue.
Clenching his teeth, he lit another cigarette and, steeling his heart, pressed it down against his thigh again.
