The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 100

But Li Qingluo was still not satisfied.

She controlled Fang Yanqing's feet, and began to gently, circularly, and overly intimately caress her body on those firm calves.

Each time the blade passed by, Fang Yanqing's body would convulse violently.

She bit her lower lip so hard it almost bled, barely managing to suppress the shameful moan that was about to escape her lips.

Wang Meng finally stopped eating heartily.

He slowly put down his chopsticks.

He did not bow his head.

His gaze first held a hint of approving smile as he glanced at Li Qingluo, whose face was flushed with excitement at having successfully pulled off a prank.

Then, his gaze shifted to Fang Yanqing.

He looked at her face, which was so red it was almost bleeding, at the fine beads of sweat on her forehead, and at her beautiful eyes, which were completely unfocused and glistening with tears.

He did not dodge.

Instead, it gently but forcefully pushed towards Fang Yanqing.

His hard, iron-like calf sank deep into Fang Yanqing's soft, trembling soles.

"Uh... ah..."

A suppressed groan, a mixture of pain and extreme pleasure, finally escaped from Fang Yanqing's lips, which had been bitten until they turned white.

Wang Meng's sudden movement caused the two pairs of intertwined feet under the table to freeze instantly.

He smiled slightly, a smile that revealed neither joy nor anger, but rather an all-knowing, absolute sense of control.

He stood up, and his imposing figure cast a large, oppressive shadow in the morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

It perfectly enveloped Fang Yanqing's trembling body.

"I'm finished eating, you guys continue eating."

After he finished speaking, he didn't even glance at the two women again before turning around and striding towards the inner room.

"Wow!"

The beaded curtain that separated the two worlds was lifted again by him, then fell heavily back down with a crisp, resolute sound, completely engulfing his figure.

For a moment, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.

Under the table, Li Qingluo slowly withdrew her foot, which had been resting on Fang Yanqing's instep.

Fang Yanqing's foot, which had been forcibly pulled to Wang Meng's calf, drooped helplessly to the ground, having lost its target.

There seemed to be a lingering sensation of the man's hard, iron-like calf, and the scalding heat that almost burned through her soul.

"Yanqing..."

Li Qingluo's sickeningly sweet voice rang out again, breaking the deathly silence.

A smug, victorious smile graced her face.

She stood up, walked around the table, went to Fang Yanqing's side, and then slowly squatted down.

Her gaze was so direct, so aggressive, fixed on Fang Yanqing's bare, jade-like feet, which were curled up in tension.

"Your feet are so beautiful..."

Li Qingluo reached out, her soft, warm fingers gently grasping Fang Yanqing's cold, trembling ankle.

"It's just... a bit too cold." Fang Yanqing's body trembled suddenly.

Just as her taut nerves were about to snap and she was about to pull her foot back desperately, the warm little hand that was tightly holding her ankle suddenly let go.

This sudden release left Fang Yanqing feeling even more disoriented than confinement.

Li Qingluo slowly stood up, looking down at the beautiful Taoist nun who was still sitting in the chair, not even bothering to put her shoes back on.

The playfulness and flirtatiousness on her face had quietly disappeared, replaced by a calm, unquestionable seriousness, as if she were discussing a major business deal.

"Yanqing!"

She spoke, her voice steady: "Jokes aside, I'd like to ask you for a favor, sister."

She raised her empty, misty eyes and looked blankly at Li Qingluo.

help?

In such a situation... with her own clothes disheveled and covered in mud, what help could she possibly offer?

Li Qingluo seemed completely oblivious to her distraught appearance, and continued slowly, "I have gathered a batch of grain in Jiaxing."

The quantity is very large...

Her voice was clear, each word like a pebble thrown into Fang Yanqing's already chaotic heart.

"I would like to ask you to escort this shipment of grain safely from Jiaxing to Xiangyang to help Rong'er, as they are running low on grain."

Those words representing chivalry and responsibility were like a bucket of ice water poured over Fang Yanqing's head, shattering her mind which was almost consumed by desire.

She suddenly took a deep breath.

Forcibly summoning the last shred of her almost collapsing rationality, she pressed all the images that made her legs weak and her heart pound—that purple jade-colored divine spear, that red mole branded in her heart, those hard and burning calves—down to the deepest part of her heart.

She raised her head, her eyes, still misty with tears, struggling to refocus.

"How much grain... is there?"

Her voice was dry and hoarse, like a piece of wood sanded with sandpaper, so unfamiliar.

"Where to start?"

This is her instinct as a "professional".

Before evaluating any task, the most basic elements must be identified: scale and starting point.

Li Qingluo seemed completely unsurprised that she could "return to normal" so quickly. She stretched out a slender finger and gently tapped it on the table.

It was as if it weren't a number, but a trivial footnote.

"Not many, just over a million dan."

Her tone was casual, as if she were talking about a hundred coins.

"Departing from the canal wharf outside the South Gate of Jiaxing."

"One million... dan?"

Fang Yanqing's mind went completely blank with a "buzz".

All the rationality she had just forcibly suppressed instantly transformed into absurd and horrifying calculations the moment she heard that number, churning wildly in her mind!

One million dan of grain!

What is that concept?

Even the most experienced security escort agency, using its largest four-wheeled carriages, could only carry a maximum of fifty loads per carriage.

One million dan (a unit of weight), that would require at least 20,000 horse-drawn carts!

Even if all the escort agencies in Jiangnan were gathered together, it might not be possible to assemble so many vehicles and personnel in a short period of time!

If these 20,000 to 30,000 vehicles were lined up end to end, what a terrifyingly long line they would form!

Sanli?

Four miles?

Do not!

That would be a moving dragon stretching for more than ten miles, from the south gate of Jiaxing City all the way to the north gate!

This "mountain of grain!" slowly traveled north from the prosperous Jiangnan region to the war-torn Xiangyang... This was no longer a "cargo escort".

This is a loudest and most blatant invitation to all the bandits, outlaws, warlords, and even certain forces within the imperial court—"Come and rob me!"

Fang Yanqing's face, which had just regained a sliver of color, turned deathly pale once again.

She still harbored a sliver of hope.

If there's not much food, out of consideration for past friendship, just consider it a favor to an old friend and charge a friendly price, and that's it.

But now… as she looked at Li Qingluo, a resolute, terrified resistance finally appeared in her empty eyes.

"Qingluo, please forgive my bluntness."

She forced herself to sit up straight, her bare foot tensing tightly on the cold ground from the effort.

"I can't help you with this."

Even the Emei Sect can't help.

"This is not a cargo escort mission!"

Her voice trembled slightly from the intense emotions she was experiencing: "This is... using the lives of thousands of disciples of the entire Emei Sect to fill a bottomless hole!"

Hearing Fang Yanqing's trembling, resolute refusal, Li Qingluo's face showed no disappointment or anger. Instead, a faint, expected smile appeared on her face.

She calmly sat back down in her chair, picked up the cup of Biluochun tea that had long since gone cold, and took a small sip, as if what she had just said was really just casual conversation at the dinner table.

"Yanqing, don't be in such a hurry to refuse."

Her voice returned to its cloyingly sweet, girlish charm, but her words were like precise scalpels, peeling away layer by layer the armor of "reason" that Fang Yanqing had used to defend herself.

"Actually, this matter was orchestrated by the Beggars' Sect."

"Beggars' Sect?"

"Yes."

Li Qingluo nodded and continued, "This time, the Beggars' Sect has sent over ten thousand people to handle this matter."

From Jiaxing to Xiangyang, they were responsible for everything: route planning, support along the way, intelligence gathering, and countless other miscellaneous and arduous tasks.

Li Qingluo paused, her watery, peach-blossom eyes gleaming with a cunning shrewdness as she looked at Fang Yanqing.

"You know about the Beggars' Sect disciples."

With a large and powerful force, they are adept at gathering information and navigating a diverse and complex environment.

But when it comes to top-tier combat power... it falls a little short.