The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 13

Did she get hooked, even... even... enjoying it? That's why she's resorting to the same trick again, using the same music, the same location, to hint to herself... that she... still wants it?

When this idea first came to him, even Wang Meng himself found it somewhat unbelievable, even absurd and laughable.

What kind of person is Li Qingluo?

The mistress of Mantuo Villa was usually an arrogant and haughty person.

How could someone so easily change their nature and even develop such a despicable fetish just because of a single experience of being forced?

The music still echoed in the night sky, each note like a hook, plucking at Wang Meng's heartstrings.

To go or not to go?

Reason told him that this was most likely a trap, a snare set by Li Qingluo. Once he stepped into that pavilion, what awaited him was a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire.

However, deep within his heart, in some dark corner, a voice was bewitching him.

What if?

What if that woman really...really can't forget his brutal methods?

If I miss this opportunity today, wouldn't I be... letting down their "kind intentions"?

not to mention……

Wang Meng licked his slightly chapped lips. The slight heat that had risen from the music and the unknown, enchanting speculations was instantly extinguished by another, colder, and more cruel thought.

He could indeed temporarily put aside the image of Li Qingluo and the absurdity of that day in the pavilion, but he never forgot his mission!

The mission that hung over his head like a nightmare echoed clearly and mercilessly in his mind: to take control of the entire Mantuo Manor within three months, including Langhuan Jade Cave—the legendary martial arts holy land that was said to have collected countless rare martial arts manuals from all schools and sects in the world!

Now, almost a month has passed!

But there has been almost no actual progress!

Admittedly, his physique has indeed become much stronger, and he has learned a few basic martial arts skills. Although Wang Meng can no longer be considered weak, three or five ordinary guards might not be able to get close to him.

But what does this amount to? Compared to his grand goal of controlling the entire Mantuo Manor and taking over the Langhuan Jade Cave, his meager progress is like a firefly compared to the bright moon—utterly insignificant!

The goal is clearly still a long way off!

At this thought, Wang Meng's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, making it difficult for him to even breathe.

[Mission Failed: Stripped of the "King of Waist" title, all extra kidneys destroyed, and the negative title permanently fixed as "Celestial Eunuch"!]

"Heavenly eunuch!"

These two words, like two red-hot branding irons, were fiercely burned into Wang Meng's heart.

If he doesn't hurry up, Wang Meng might as well just take a knife and castrate himself, so he won't have to bear the title of "the eunuch"!

To hell with Jiang Taigong fishing.

Compared to becoming a true "eunuch," even if the pavilion truly contained mountains of knives and seas of fire, it didn't seem so difficult to face!

Chapter Nine: Revenge Through the Board and the Whip!

The moonlight, like a ribbon, filtered through the light gauze hanging around the pavilion, casting a hazy glow on Li Qingluo, further accentuating her already alluring figure.

What she was wearing was less like clothing and more like a thin veil as thin as a cicada's wing.

She wore a light purple sheer dress, loosely draped over her shoulders, the front of which was wide open, barely concealing any of her natural beauty.

As she played the zither, the light gauze rippled gently like water, revealing her two tall, snow-white breasts through the fabric. The two delicate red nipples at their tips, like ripe cherries, were faintly visible through the thin gauze.

A few playful strands of hair fell across her chest, gently scratching her snow-white skin with each breath, adding to her languid and alluring charm.

Her pretty face was flushed with an unnatural rosy hue, and her eyes were somewhat glazed over, clearly indicating that she was a little drunk.

However, compared to her drunken state when Wang Meng caught her in the pavilion that day, she was clearly sober at this moment, or at least, she retained most of her senses.

actually!

She herself couldn't explain why she found herself sitting here playing the zither again, as if possessed.

In her heart, she wanted to tear that audacious scoundrel who had brutally violated her that night to pieces to vent her hatred. Whenever she thought of that humiliating scene, she would grit her teeth in hatred.

She vowed several times that once she found the thief, she would make him wish he were dead!

However, in some corner of her heart, a strange feeling of expectation began to grow... a feeling that she herself was unwilling to admit, or even dared not think about deeply.

It was an extremely contradictory and torturous feeling.

Just like an addict facing a deadly poison, knowing the harm it causes, yet unable to resist the urge to taste the depravity again.

Although that night's experience was filled with humiliation and pain, the pure, primal, undisguised desire and the brutally possessive act left an indelible mark on the deepest part of her body.

Her body seemed to undergo some changes that she herself could not understand after that night.

Therefore, her playing the zither tonight carried an indescribable sense of "reluctance to accept".

Her long legs were seemingly crossed casually, but the slightly tense toes and the occasional slight trembling of her leg muscles betrayed her inner tension and unease.

She would subconsciously bring her legs together, but after a moment, she would unconsciously separate them slightly, as if expecting something, or as if making a silent invitation.

The sheer fabric of her dress would slip down even further as she played the piano, revealing large expanses of her fair shoulders and delicate collarbones. She would casually reach out to adjust it, but the movement seemed slow and deliberate, more like a provocative attempt to conceal something.

His eyes would sometimes be sharp as a knife, scanning the darkness outside the pavilion warily, as if searching for that hateful enemy.

At times, it would become hazy and empty, as if immersed in some complex and shameful memory, and the corners of the mouth would even uncontrollably curl into a strange arc that was both painful and tinged with a hint of reminiscence...

Just then, a very faint sound of footsteps, like fallen leaves brushing against moss, came from the shadows of flowers and trees not far from the pavilion.

Like a startled doe in the forest, Li Qingluo suddenly awoke from her dazed state.

Her eyes instantly sharpened like a hawk's, her fingers gripping the strings tightly, producing a piercing "clang," as if she were ready to draw her sword at any moment.

Upon hearing the music, the footsteps clearly stopped.

However, after a brief pause, the footsteps did not fade away; instead, they slowly approached the pavilion.

Li Qingluo's heart jumped into her throat.

Is it that thief?

He...he really came again! In an instant, shame, hatred, fear, and that tiny bit of expectation that she herself despised, all churned violently in her heart like a spilled bottle of mixed flavors.

However, just as the footsteps grew closer and closer, and it became clear that they belonged to a man with steady steps, the vigilance and sharpness on Li Qingluo's face vanished as quickly as the tide receded.

Instead, there was a more intense, almost drowning-like state of intoxication.

Her body seemed to have lost all its strength, and she slowly slumped down, her back sliding down the pavilion pillar until she finally leaned against the cold stone railing.

The already loose, thin gauze dress opened even wider because of this movement, almost completely exposing her two plump, snow-white breasts. Only the two rosy nipples at the top were barely covered by a few strands of wet gauze, making the attempt to conceal only more alluring.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes half-closed, her long eyelashes casting two faint shadows in the moonlight, and her breathing became even and long, as if she had truly fallen into a deep sleep, completely unaware of everything around her.

Outside the pavilion, Wang Meng held his breath, like the most cunning cheetah, stalking in the shadows.

He had already circled the bushes and flowers around the pavilion several times, carefully checking every possible hiding place. He was certain that there were no guards or servants armed with knives or axes lying in ambush nearby.

But this did not completely reassure him.

After all, Wang Meng couldn't be sure if some highly skilled martial artist with profound inner strength and unpredictable movements was also hiding in some undetected shadow, just like him, waiting for him to walk right into their trap.

However, Wang Meng thought again that he had been wandering around for so long, if there were really any martial arts masters hiding there, they would probably have discovered him, this sneaky uninvited guest, long ago.

The fact that the other party hasn't made a move or uttered a sound is suspicious.

Or perhaps he was overthinking it, and there was no ambush nearby at all. Li Qingluo playing the zither here tonight was just... a simple coincidence, or... she was just being provocative.

Or, that would be even more intriguing.

The fact that the other party had already discovered him but had not yet made a move, to some extent, confirmed Wang Meng's boldest and most absurd conjecture.

He took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the pavilion.

Looking into the pavilion, one sees Li Qingluo, who is clearly "drunk," with her unguarded, languid posture, seemingly at the mercy of others, and the unique scent of alcohol mixed with her body fragrance that faintly wafts from the air, just like that night.

Wang Meng hesitated for a moment, his mind in turmoil once again.

Reason told him that this might be a trap, a haven of comfort, a graveyard for heroes.

But the damned punishment of the mission, and the most primal urges of his body, were like an invisible hand pushing him forward. In the end, the adventurous spirit that came from his very bones and the fear of "castration" overwhelmed all his concerns.

Wang Meng gritted his teeth and, just like that night, quickly took off his coarse cloth shirt and covered his face with it, leaving only his two eyes flashing with a fierce light.

After doing all this, he lowered his body and tiptoed, like a leopard stalking in the night, silently made his way towards the pavilion where the lights flickered and the fragrance wafted.

As he approached, the faint smell of alcohol and the delicate fragrance of orchids emanating from Li Qingluo grew stronger. When Wang Meng's calloused hands gently parted the light gauze hanging in the pavilion and he stepped inside, Li Qingluo, who had been "sleeping," suddenly trembled, and her tightly closed eyelashes twitched violently, as if she was about to be startled awake from her "dream."

However, before she could fully "wake up," a strong and powerful hand, like an iron clamp, covered her mouth and nose, silencing any possible screams she might make.

"Uh! Uh-huh!"

Li Qingluo struggled violently, her hands flailing wildly in the air and her legs kicking wildly.

Her dazed eyes were filled with terror and rage, as if she wanted to tear the masked villain who was trying to assault her again to shreds. It was a fierce resistance like that of a frightened mother beast, full of primal wildness and power.

"Stop...you...beast!"

However, Wang Meng keenly sensed that her struggle seemed... somewhat different from the despair and desperate resistance she felt when he ambushed her that night.

Although she was quite strong, she always fell just short at crucial moments, as if... as if she was just putting on a show.

Especially when his palm intentionally or unintentionally brushed against the two soft, snowy peaks on her chest, Li Qingluo's trembling was less an expression of anger and more... an uncontrollable, guilt-laden tremor.

Wang Meng sneered inwardly, becoming even more certain of his judgment.

This woman is definitely horny!

He increased the pressure of his hand by three points, while his other hand roamed and kneaded her exquisite, undulating body, which was full of amazing elasticity, even more unrestrainedly.

He could clearly feel the mature, voluptuous body beneath him rapidly changing.

Li Qingluo's breathing became increasingly rapid and hot. The struggle that originally carried a sense of resistance gradually weakened, and was replaced by an almost spasmodic writhing and yielding.

The "mmm" sounds she made gradually changed from initial fear and anger to a low moan tinged with sobs.

Her hands, which had originally intended to push Wang Meng away, had somehow fallen limply to her sides. In fact, some of her fingers had unconsciously gripped Wang Meng's strong arm, the fingertips turning slightly white from the force. It didn't feel like she was trying to push him away; rather, it felt like she didn't want him to leave.

"Let...let me go...you...bastard...beast..."

Li Qingluo used her last bit of strength to squeeze out a few broken, tearful curses through gritted teeth.

However, at this moment, her body was like a poppy in full bloom, beautiful yet dangerous, exuding an intoxicating, poisonous fragrance under the moonlight, completely open to the man she cursed as a "bastard beast."