The moment the bronze coffin lid was pressed down, Shen Li heard the sound of her wedding dress being torn.
"Invite the saint to die for the world." The voice of Imperial Master Yun Wuya mixed with the smell of blood seeped into the coffin cracks. The string of red sandalwood beads hanging from his snowy hair was stuck on her carotid artery, and he was so compassionate that he seemed to want to save her. Three hundred and sixty-five bone-penetrating nails were still driven into the joints of her limbs, each of which was precisely avoiding the fatal spot - they always kept her as a living puppet and adjusted the pain sensitivity to the most acute before cutting out the heart and taking blood.
