Jiang Fan swung down the stick, making Tian Ge scream continuously.
Fortunately, when the stick was just a foot from her head, it finally stopped.
Tian Ge was so scared that tears welled up in her eyes.
"You've been holding out for a whole day, and now you're surrendering—isn't that taking a beating for nothing?"
"You might as well take a few more beatings."
Jiang Fan said indifferently.
Tian Ge said tearfully, "I'll write, I'll write everything."
Only then did Jiang Fan take out paper and pen and tossed them in front of her, saying:
"Before you write, a reminder—not to play tricks."
"I have a way to verify if your translation is mistaken."
"Afterwards, I don't want to hear excuses like 'I remembered wrong' or 'I wrote wrong'."
"Unless, you want to taste the flavor of my stick again."
Shivering, Tian Ge grabbed the pen and started writing on the ground.
A tea's time passed.
A piece of Hell language, merely a hundred words, came into view.
