The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 150

But upon closer inspection, one would notice a barely perceptible, stiff tremor in her fingers as she took her pulse.

Her mind was clearly in turmoil.

Just a few hours ago, before Wang Meng set off for Zuixianlou, right here in this courtyard...

When Wang Meng appeared at the door, Fang Yanqing's body instinctively stiffened.

Her gaze swept uncontrollably and rapidly over Wang Meng's entire body.

Immediately, as if she had been burned, she abruptly shifted her gaze back to his face, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

Fang Yanqing slowly stood up.

She remained motionless, but the oppressive aura of a sect leader, which was attempting to regroup, became somewhat unstable due to the turmoil within her heart.

"You... you're out."

She finally spoke, her voice unusually calm, almost unnaturally so.

It was a tone of voice that deliberately suppressed all emotional fluctuations, as if all the edges had been smoothed out.

The voice no longer carried its usual coolness and authority; instead, it carried a heavy, suffocating calmness.

As he spoke, he slowly walked towards Wang Meng.

Emei's gait remained dignified, but each step seemed to tread on clouds, carrying a somewhat unreal, floating sensation.

"It seems!"

She stopped three steps away from Wang Meng, forcing herself to look him directly in the eyes, as if only in this way could she dispel the humiliating and infuriating images churning in her mind: "You have found a way to break this 'clear and melancholic wind'."

Her words were a question, a statement, and even more so, a request that could almost be described as humble.

Wang Meng shook his head, a hint of helplessness and cruelty on his face.

"The 'clear and melancholic wind' on my body."

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching the ears of everyone still conscious in the courtyard, "The solution to this problem cannot be replicated."

These words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the glimmer of hope that had just ignited in Abbess Miejue's heart.

Her face instantly darkened, and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sword.

"but……"

Wang Meng abruptly changed the subject, his deep eyes looking past Abbess Miejue's shoulder, coldly and with an undisguised scheming and malice, towards the tightly closed door behind her.

Behind that door lay his spoils, and also the key to solving... the problem.

Abbess Miejue turned around following his gaze.

"The antidote seems far away, but it's actually within reach."

She immediately understood what Wang Meng meant.

The true, universally effective antidote, the soothing and compassionate remedy, does not lie with Wang Meng.

The poison Wang Meng was poisoned with was a specially made, enhanced version of poison used by the Mongols to control skilled fighters.

Her disciples, on the other hand, were the weakened, ordinary versions used to create chaos.

"what do you mean……"

Abbess Miejue's voice was hoarse. She forced herself to look away from the door and return her gaze to Wang Meng's face.

"What I mean is!"

Wang Meng's lips curled into a sinister yet suggestive smile: "The prescription is in that room."

But that pampered young princess was very stubborn.

I'm afraid I won't get any information out of them by myself alone.

He paused, his eyes, like those of a venomous snake, sweeping across the beautiful and cold face of the Taoist nun Zhang: "Sometimes, the methods men and women use to get a proud woman to speak are different."

Especially... when that proud woman was being toyed with in front of another woman!

The breathing of Abbess Miejue.

At this moment, everything almost came to a standstill.

She got it.

She completely and utterly understood the unspoken meaning behind Wang Meng's words.

He wasn't asking for her opinion.

He was giving her a choice.

An indescribable, chilling shiver ran from the soles of her feet, up her spine, and up to the back of her head.

But at the same time, there was a morbid curiosity and impulse that she herself dared not admit.

In his mind, the image of how her pure and beautiful feet had been forced to wrap around his burning hot weapon several hours earlier kept replaying in his mind.

The humiliating yet unfamiliar stimulation seemed to have not yet subsided.

And now, he wants her... to use her hands to do the same, or even more outrageous, things to another woman.

In the courtyard, the disciples' groans grew louder and more painful, like dull knives scraping at her heart.

She looked into Wang Meng's eyes, which were full of amusement and a desire for control, and remained silent for a long time.

Finally, she said slowly and deliberately, "Lead the way."

Wang Meng looked at her and smiled gently.

He said very considerately, "It's alright."

"How about I go in first? If I can't get it, then...it'll be quite a hassle for you, Master!"

"Are you awake?"

"Give me the antidote now that you're awake!"

"You still want the antidote from me?"

Hearing those words filled with resentment.

Wang Meng stretched his muscles and felt his strength slowly returning.

He didn't deal with Zhao Min immediately, but left her on the bed like a rag doll. He then went to the table, poured himself a glass of tea that had long since gone cold, and drank it all in one gulp.

The mingled smells in the room were so strong they seemed to solidify, constantly stimulating his nerves.

He looked at the large bed, but his gaze did not fall on Zhao Min's tear-streaked and filthy face, nor on her ravaged body. Instead, it slowly fell on her delicate and flawless feet that were exposed outside the blanket.

Amidst that mess and filth, her feet strangely remained almost holy in their cleanliness.

They were so white and delicate, with slender and beautiful feet. Each toe looked as if it were carefully carved from the finest mutton fat jade, and the rounded nails had a healthy, light pink hue.

These feet clearly belong to a pampered noblewoman, feet that have never been tainted by the mundane world.

This abrupt and untimely cleanliness stood out starkly in this room that resembled a hellish slaughterhouse, and was also particularly...

Wang Meng's Adam's apple bobbed, and a strange light flashed in his eyes.

He slowly walked back to the bedside, but instead of touching her, he squatted down and looked directly at her feet.

Then, he reached out his large hand and grabbed Zhao Min's right ankle.

"what!"

Zhao Min let out a terrified scream as if she had been electrocuted, and her whole body trembled!

She had already sunk into the abyss of despair, her consciousness was somewhat blurred, but this sudden, cold, rough touch was like a needle, piercing her most sensitive nerve!

She instinctively tried to pull her foot back, but Wang Meng's hand was like an iron clamp, completely immovable.

Her slender ankles appeared so fragile in his large hands, as if they would be crushed with the slightest force.

"Let... let go..."

She protested weakly, her voice trembling with tears.

Wang Meng completely ignored her.

He acted as if he had acquired a novel toy and began to play with it on his own.

His thumb, calloused and rough, moved slowly and forcefully back and forth on her smooth, silky instep, bringing a strange, itchy, and tingling sensation that made Zhao Min's scalp tingle.

He then pinched her big toe, turning it left and right as if appreciating a work of art, and then slowly bent it down.

This was a completely new and unprecedented insult.

Wang Meng did not harm her, but Zhao Min felt more humiliated than any other harm could have caused her.

An indescribable heat shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head!

Zhao Min felt as if her cheeks were burning hot enough to fry an egg.

She bit her lower lip tightly and closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight before her.

But the less you look, the more acute your senses become.

She could clearly feel his fingers sliding across the tender flesh of her soles, gently scratching the most sensitive hollow, causing her lower abdomen to tighten uncontrollably in waves.

She could even feel the masculine and sweaty scent emanating from his huge hand.

it's over...

A desperate thought surfaced in her mind.

She discovered that her shameful body, after experiencing extreme pain and climax, seemed to have had some base switch flipped.

In response to this domineering and humiliating manipulation, besides feeling intense hatred and disgust, she actually... actually couldn't help but feel a faint, trembling, and almost screaming sense of excitement rising from the base of her spine...

She felt her lower body begin to contract slightly again, much to her dismay.

Do not!

How could I... how could I be attracted to such a filthy scoundrel...

She screamed wildly in her heart, but her body's reaction betrayed everything.

Just then, Wang Meng suddenly stopped moving.

Wang Meng held Zhao Min's delicate and beautiful foot and slowly lifted it in front of him.