"You can't stop until I tell you. If you do, we'll go back to your room," Feng Mian threatens Jinn.
Chills rack Jinn's frame as he remembers.
It has barely been an hour since. Feng Mian did not give Jinn the honor of cleaning up first. Jinn's white t-shirt clings to his stomach and slowly turns cream.
Anything is better than returning to that... place. Palms tearing against roughly lain cement, balls of his feet numbing, body straight, glutes engaged, back-breaking pain. With the gash on Jinn's knee spilling blood upon the square's floor, Jinn's arms tremble as he tightens his core and maintains a steely plank position. No matter how much Jinn's strength leaves him, Jinn continues to hold formation.
Keeping his gaze to the ground, Jinn flinches as Feng Mian walks past him.
Feng Mian instructs on arrival, "Stand up."
Knees locking, Jinn collapses onto the floor and scrambles to his feet.