In the dark and dank dungeon, a man lay sprawled on the floor, his hands and feet shackled. His tattered clothes could not conceal the wounds covering his body.,Lan Qingjia's son, Ran Ran, fiercely clenched his fist, a trace of intense hatred flashing in his eyes.,Now, I'm sitting in your place, using the money you earned, spending your dowry, and even drinking what's yours. It really isn't pleasant at all!。