The woman slowly stood up, while Zhao Hequan was held by the neck and lifted off the ground.
She brought her face closer, as if scrutinizing carefully.
Gradually, dark spots started to appear on Zhao Hequan's neck, exactly where the woman was gripping, and quickly spread across his entire body.
Then, these spots began to merge and expand, forming patches of black pus-filled sores, with each sore's central region bulging and oozing pus, which slid down his body and gathered at the feet suspended above the ground, eventually dripping onto the floor.
Yet, Zhao Hequan did not show signs of pain nor struggle, appearing as if he was still deep in sleep.
On the contrary, Li Zhiyuan suddenly felt an ominous premonition inside; if touching this woman leads to infection and decay, then those two pieces of flesh that fell on his face earlier...
The itch started on his face.
After careful feeling, it was real itchiness, not psychological.
