Gu Chen didn't bother to spare a glance and simply closed his eyes.
Seeing this, Gu Lin increased the force on his foot.
Gu Qing, on the other hand, just smiled and said, "Cousin, a toast ignored demands a penalty sip. Don't blame us for being ruthless. Since your hands aren't meant for signing, let's put them to other uses."
With a wave of Gu Qing's hand, a box of needles was brought in. Several people grabbed Gu Chen's fingers, mercilessly thrusting the sharp needle tips into the nail beds.
Even the resolute Gu Chen couldn't help but groan in pain. In an instant, sweat beads formed on his forehead, and his naturally rosy lips turned ashen, devoid of any color.
When Shen Xi entered with her group, she witnessed the scene.
She never imagined that Gu Chen, always appearing immaculate and exquisite in her eyes, would be in such a miserable state—trampled under someone's foot, his head pressed into the ground, with blood dripping from his fingers as needles pierced them.
