Song Yaoyao had not intended to torment Prince Ming, but the man had such a foul mouth that she would have felt she was letting herself down if she did not teach him a lesson.
At some point, a packet of salt had appeared in Song Yaoyao's hand.
She said to the constable beside her:
"Go pour this packet of salt over his wounds. Let him savor this exquisite sensation!"
"Yes."
Salt was precious. They had never imagined using it as an instrument of torture.
When the salt was sprinkled over Prince Ming's wounds, he let out heart-rending screams.
Prince Ming glared at Song Yaoyao and said:
"Whatever tricks you have, go ahead and use them."
Song Yaoyao thought for a moment, then muttered to herself:
"Still so stubborn? I'll grant your wish."
Another packet appeared in Song Yaoyao's hand, this one containing a red powder.
The Second Prince asked curiously:
"What is that?"
"Chili powder. Ghost pepper powder."
"How do you use it?"
Song Yaoyao had already handed the chili powder to the jailer beside her.
"Rub this on him down below."
The jailer froze at her words.
Down below? Where exactly?
Even the Second Prince's face turned red as he said:
"Understood!
Wait outside for now."
"All right.
Oh, and after touching this stuff, make sure you wash your hands thoroughly. Remember that!"
"Understood."
Soon, rustling sounds came from the cell:
"You witch! You'll die a horrible death!
Ah! Ah! Just finish me off!
I can't take much more!"
Guagua: [Host, Prince Ming's arms and legs are tied spread-eagle, and his body is practically twisting into a braided dough twist.
That jailer is quite a talent, too. He rubbed it on both the front and the back.]
Song Yaoyao: [Holy crap, that jailer really is a talent!]
Just