Chen Chuan gritted his teeth and knelt on the gravel ground, his hands tied behind his back with hemp rope. The skin on his back was torn, and blood flowed down his back, staining the shabby shirt red.
"Sister-in-law Chen, do you still have the nerve to eat the base's rations?" Zhao Jinglong stood three meters away, holding an iron whip in his hand, with a half-smile expression on his face, "I have raised you for three months, what kind of work have you done? You can't collect herbs, you don't dare to fight, and you're even tired of carrying supplies. Tell me, are you worthy of eating this food?"
There were dozens of survivors standing around, some laughing, some expressionless, and a few women covering their mouths and talking in low voices.
"I remember his wife, who used to be the eldest lady of the Lin family, but later turned into a zombie."
"He deserves it. A son-in-law relies on a woman to make a living. Now that the woman is gone, who is he?"
