[Fantasy] The Slave Wife Wants to Turn the Tables (Complete) - 10

Chapter 61 Hellish Life (Part 5)

In the middle of the night, Luo Zhu woke up from the cold.

Although the Beast King's palace was far more luxurious and opulent than the mastiff barn, it was far less warm.

Every night, eight or nine warm, cozy mastiffs slept in the cramped mastiff barn. At night, she and Gesang Zhuoma would snuggle together, wrapped in a blanket, covered with thick hay, their bodies warmed by the body heat of the wild beasts. Even without the crystal windows to shield them from the wind and snow, they felt no cold.

But in the Beast King's spacious palace, only two people slept far apart, while three wild beasts lay scattered about. The air that entered her nostrils wasn't the faint, warm, fishy smell of wild beasts, but a harsh, chilling cold tinged with blood.

Her stiff body, once relaxed, immediately ached and ached, as if she had been run over by a truck. Her body was icy cold, as if placed in an ice cellar, her limbs numb with cold. If no action is taken soon, her muscles and nerves may be damaged by frostbite.

She put her numb fingers in her mouth; the tip of her tongue felt icy cold, as if she were holding not flesh and blood, but ice pops that had never melted. A faint warmth emanated from her right side, tempting her to move closer.

She struggled to suppress her urges, gently rubbing her legs together in the darkness to warm them, careful not to make any noise that might wake the beastly king on the low couch. When her fingers regained some feeling, she struggled to sit up and carefully removed her thin boots. Her feet, too, were as cold as ice sculptures.

Sitting on the floor, her icy body trembled uncontrollably. She bit her lip and rubbed her feet vigorously, inwardly cursing. "What a lousy winter palace! No heated floor, no underfloor heating! Even a brazier would be nice!"

As she rubbed, tears streamed down her face like rain. She could endure anything, but not the biting cold. In modern times, she had hand warmers, electric blankets, and air conditioning; in Namtso village, she had a leather water bottle and the embrace of Tashi Langtso; in the mastiff stable, she had mastiffs and the comfort of Gesang Zhuoma. But now, in the beast king's palace, she had nothing. The only mastiff beside her was a man-eating, ruthless wild beast. She was filled with fear of it; how could she dare to cuddle it for warmth as before?

The warm drops that had just touched her bare feet and hands instantly lost their temperature. The cold felt like icy steel needles piercing her flesh, her veins, and freezing her blood. A sudden, overwhelming sense of injustice washed over her, and tears streamed down her face like a burst dam. She wiped them away, but they flowed uncontrollably.

As she cried, suddenly, her icy right foot landed in a warm, soft space. She froze, quickly covering her mouth with her hand, forcing back a terrified scream.

Rough, warm, supple flesh licked and sucked at her cold foot, puffs of heat enveloping her numb sole. A sharp, stinging pain slowly awakened her frozen nerves—the silver lion was thawing her with its tongue.

The scene of the silver lion greedily chewing on a human hand during the day suddenly flashed before her eyes: its long, crimson tongue, the red saliva dripping onto the carpet, its bloodstained, gleaming white teeth, the flesh clinging to its teeth… unfolding like a painting in the darkness. Her just-relaxed body instantly froze, chilled to the bone.

No! No! No!

Every nerve in her body screamed in terror, her eyes fixed on the darkness below, her teeth grinding fiercely against her already bloodstained lower lip. After an unknown amount of time, two enormous paws landed on her shoulders, and a pair of emerald green eyes gleaming with a blue light suddenly appeared before her, leaving her mind blank for a moment. Under the gaze of those deep, cold pupils, her body slowly slumped down with the downward force, a warm, furry body heavily covering her. Waves of warmth, carrying a faint ,

fishy odor, penetrated her icy body, melting her stiffness. A wet, rough tongue gently licked her face, again and again, filled with affection and comfort. The tears on her face were replaced by the mastiff's saliva, faintly smelling of fish.

After a long while, Luo Zhu finally embraced the silver lion's head, her trembling fingers reaching into its wide-open mouth. The sticky, rough tongue licked her cold fingers, generously offering all its warmth.

After a while, the silver lion suddenly stood up from her, grabbing the back of her robe and dragging her away. In the darkness, she didn't know where Yin Ni was taking her, but her heart, once stiff with fear, gradually softened with the warmth Yin Ni offered countless times. The horrific images of Yin Ni eating people faded from the darkness, leaving only a tinge of unease.

Only after Yin Ni set her down and draped a thick blanket over her did she realize that Yin Ni had carried her to a corner of the inner room and then covered her with the edge of the carpet.

This… demon! So demonic! Her initial shock was followed by profound astonishment, a strange mix of emotion and warm hope welling up within her. Perhaps, in this cruel, cannibalistic palace, Yin Ni's affection for her was genuine; perhaps, Yin Ni's sharp claws would never truly tear her apart and devour her.

She reached out and, as usual, ran her hands into the thick fur around its neck, pressing her body against its soft, warm belly, her knees bent, and her bare feet burrowed between its hind legs. The thick carpet locked the silver lion's warmth in the small, enclosed space, and soon her entire body was warm and cozy.

Ignoring its faint fishy smell, she gently rubbed her face against the dry fur on its neck, quickly soaking a large patch. She had warned herself countless times, but she still couldn't resist the silver lion's warm pampering in the cold darkness. She had been alone and lonely for too long; apart from the six months of warmth that Gesang Zhuoma's family had given her, this beast was all she had.

Struggling so hard in the cold palace was too tiring and painful; even if the silver lion was a cruel beast that could turn on her in an instant, even if she still harbored fear of it, she accepted it.

Zanbu Zhuotun had woken up when Luo Zhu rubbed her legs together in the darkness to warm them. He lay on his side on the couch, covered with a thick, soft quilt, his right hand supporting his head, watching Luo Zhu's every move as if watching a play.

In the darkness, the female slave rubbed her hands and feet like a mouse, glancing around fearfully and warily, as if afraid of waking him. Judging from her unfocused pupils, she could see nothing but darkness.

After rubbing for a while, tears began to fall, dripping like broken beads onto her hands and feet, quickly becoming a torrent. Then, the feigning-sleep Yin Ni stood up, knelt down at her feet, and took her right foot into his mouth, licking it.

She covered her mouth tightly, desperately suppressing herself, not daring to make a sound, her body trembling stiffly with immense fear, and her tears flowed even more fiercely. However, when Yin Ni pressed down on her body, affectionately licking her face, the fear on her small face gradually faded, and she even took the initiative to put her fingers into Yin Ni's mouth to warm them.

Wasn't she terrified during the day? How come she so quickly dropped her defenses after being comforted by Yin Ni? This is rather boring.

He coldly watched Yin Ni carry her to a corner of the inner room, move the floor lamp aside with its mouth, roll up the carpet and cover her, then run to the middle of the inner room, pick up her dropped boots and carry them to the corner, finally hurriedly burrowing into the carpet and remaining motionless.

Staring at the bundle wrapped up in the corner, his eyebrows slightly raised, his cold, hawk-like eyes sharp as knives, a faint, murderous urge to abuse and ravage him rose in his heart.

After dawn, he would never forgive this female slave who dared to move without permission and wake him.

Chapter 062

The dark and dimly lit secret hall of Dharma King Pema Tenzin was filled with a thin layer of blue smoke, the stench of blood mixed with sandalwood permeating every corner of the hall.

On the front wall of the secret hall stands a massive golden revolving wheel, nine meters high. Around its edge are five dakinis, each holding a flower-adorned hook and rope, adorned with necklaces and pendants, their faces dignified yet alluring, their figures voluptuous and graceful. At the center of the wheel is Vairocana Buddha, the Dharmakaya Buddha. To the left of the center is Ratnagarbha Buddha of the Southern Joyful World, to the right of the center is Amitabha Buddha of the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, to the outermost left is Amitabha Buddha of the Eastern Fragrant Accumulation World, and to the outermost right is Amitabha Buddha of the Northern Lotus World of Sublime Sound

. The Buddhas are dignified and solemn, their lips curved in a smile. They are crafted from fine brass and inlaid with pure gold, their single pair of eyes gleaming with silver light, filled with mystery, solemnity, compassion, and benevolence. On the offering table are thirteen butter lamps, each burning eternally. Silver vessels hold various offerings such as human heads, hearts, eyes, and ears, and five incense burners made from skulls hold nine thin sticks of brown sandalwood.

Before the offering table sat a golden lotus, about a meter in diameter, inlaid with pure gold. Its sixteen petals flowed smoothly, each exquisitely beautiful. Seated on the golden lotus throne was the Lotus Dharma King, Pema Tenzin, deeply revered by the people of Guge and enjoying immense prestige throughout the entire Tibetan Plateau. His eyes were slightly closed, a compassionate smile playing on his thin lips, his hands forming a mudra at his chest. A crimson robe covered his reddish-yellow vest, emanating a faint, bright yellow light, pure and holy, like a deity. Kneeling before him was a devout man, none other than Lie Shakya Tashi.

The moment he opened his eyes, a gentle, radiant light shone within his long, phoenix-shaped eyes, seemingly encompassing all things. Upon closer inspection, however, they appeared boundless and vast, like the boundless universe. Slowly opening his long, slender fingers from the mudra, the radiant light in his pupils vanished, replaced by gentle compassion, sacred purity, inspiring worship and faith.

“Shakya Tashi.” The gentle, smiling voice was ethereal and magnetic, easily captivating the heart.

“Present.”

“Raise your head and answer.”

“Yes.” Shakya Tashi respectfully raised his head, looking at Pema Tenzin on the lotus throne.

“Has a strange person appeared beside the King?” He gazed at Shakya Tashi with gentle affection, his smile as clear and pure as flowing wind and swirling snow.

“The chief mastiff, Yinni, has chosen two female slaves to serve him. Not long ago, the king granted these two slaves the right to freely enter and leave his palace.” Shakya Tashi paused, then continued, “I wonder if they are considered strange people?”

“They are two…” Pema Tenzin murmured softly, turning his gaze to Shakya Tashi’s rugged and scarred face, his loving smile deepening. “Shakya Tashi, soon the rarest and most precious offerings will be presented, and then I will perform the final initiation for you.”

“Thank you, Dharma King.” Shakya Tashi’s eyes shone with joy. The highest initiation ceremony requires finding nine lotus maidens with the six marks of a Buddha. He had offered many before, but none pleased the Dharma King, thus delaying the initiation ceremony. Now, hearing the Dharma King bring up the offering initiation himself, he was undeniably excited.

"Go to the King's side and do your best to save the lives of those two female slaves," Pema Tenzin waved his hand and said calmly. "You may leave now."

"Yes."

Shakya Tashi bowed respectfully and withdrew from the secret hall. The moment he turned around, his eyes revealed unconcealed surprise and doubt. Could those two mastiff slaves be the rarest and most precious sacrifice the Dharma King spoke of? But one of them was no longer a virgin, and the other was past the optimal age for initiation. Or was there a secret he didn't know? Thinking of that pretty and interesting plaything, his heart stirred slightly, and a cruel and unrestrained smile appeared on his lips. If that rarest and most precious sacrifice was her, he was truly looking forward to it.

Watching Shakya Tashi's strong and muscular figure disappear into the dark corridor, Pema Tenzin's gentle and pure eyes gradually turned dark and cold, and his loving smile froze at the corners of his lips, becoming eerie and sinister.

The surging bright yellow light surrounding him was replaced by wisps of bloody, sinister black mist. A chilling wind suddenly swept through the secret hall, and hazy, dark shadows darted and howled within. The butter lamps flickered, their light shifting, and the three thousand three-inch-tall golden-bodied, silver-eyed Vajra Buddhas enshrined on either side seemed to come alive, their angry eyes bared, sweeping away all compassion, love, light, and holiness. The entire hall churned, swallowing all terrifying darkness. Long, slender,

honey-brown fingers slowly moved the phoenix-eye Bodhi seed beads, his left hand forming a mudra, his dark, cold phoenix eyes slightly lowered.

There are five eyes in the world: the physical eye, the heavenly eye, the wisdom eye, the Dharma eye, and the Buddha eye. Several years ago, he had cultivated to the Dharma eye, only one step away from the boundless, limitless Buddha eye. But no matter how much he cultivated afterward, he could never break through to the Dharma eye or open the Buddha eye; instead, he cultivated another kind of eye—the soul eye.

The Soul Eye surveys the six realms of life and death, reaching the highest heavens and the deepest hells, touching the boundless universe. It can transform the intangible into the tangible, devouring the souls imprisoned by all living beings. It is like the eye of a demon from the deepest darkness, entirely different from the luminous Buddha's eye.

The wondrous thing that can see his tangible Soul Eye without being devoured must possess the purest, most ancient blood, and its soul must transcend this world. How could such an intriguing offering not be rare and precious? With this offering, his cultivation will advance further, and opening his Buddha's Eye will be imminent.

In his meditative universe, he sensed that the thing peering into the Soul Eye was yin. The first time she peered into the Soul Eye on Zanbu Zhuodun's longsword, she was filled with bewilderment; the second time she peered into the Soul Eye in Zanbu Zhuodun's palace, she was filled with fear. Under the gaze of the Soul Eye, she finally fell asleep, utterly exhausted. Shakyamuni said there were two female slaves; which one was she?

"Zanbu Zhuodun, you deceived me. However, I forgive you. Sooner or later, you will willingly offer up this rare and precious treasure."

Baima Danzeng smiled slightly, and instantly, it was as if ten thousand lotuses bloomed around him, their fragrance filling the air. A gentle, compassionate divine light dispelled the darkness and coldness in his phoenix eyes, and a benevolent holiness flowed softly across his face. He softly chanted a mantra, and with a sudden flick of his long prayer beads in the air, the one hundred and eight phoenix eyes on the Bodhi beads emitted faint rays of light. The dark shadows whistling in the hall, like moths drawn to a flame, shrank continuously, desperately trying to burrow into the phoenix eyes. In a short while, the secret hall was once again solemn, mysterious, and majestic.

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The next morning, before Zanbu Zhuodun could punish him, Luozhu had already been punished by the disease.

Although she received care from Yinni in the latter half of the night, she inevitably caught a chill during her solitary sleep in the first half. Yinni was naturally the first to notice her unease; its body temperature was even higher than that of a wild beast.

Yinni roared in her ear, biting her hand, licking her cheek, and banging its head against her body, trying everything to wake her, but to no avail. Panicked, it rushed to the low couch, frantically pawing at Zanbu Zhuodun with its paws, howling restlessly.

The two snow leopards, startled awake, hurried to Luo Zhu's side and did the same tormenting her, finally returning defeated and circling the low couch with Yinni.

Zanbu Zhuodun glanced at the three extremely agitated beasts with boredom, rested for a moment, then slowly got up from the couch, casually picking up the brocade fur robe from the couch and draping it over itself. He walked to the window, pulled back the white, crystal-clear panel, and flakes of ice rustled off the thin, sturdy crystal. A few tiny snowflakes of cold, fresh air rushed into the room, dissolving the faint, stale smell of blood.

He crossed his arms, leaned against the window, and gazed down upon the surrounding landscape. The rolling mountains and the tranquil Xiangquan River were all bathed in a pure, silvery-white light. The once bustling and vibrant royal city seemed to still be quietly slumbering in the early winter morning. This was his kingdom, the territory of the Muchi royal family. One day, he would conquer even more vast territories and create a Guge Kingdom even more powerful and prosperous than Songtsen Gampo's Tibet. (Advertisement break: Still relying on your hands? How can that be satisfying? Forum reputation guaranteed! Healthy anti-premature ejaculation masturbation exerciser, real oral sex pleasure experience, hot recommendation!) Maintain the sensation of ejaculation for 30 minutes, experience intense pleasure and become dizzy. Fully automated masturbation with 12 different sex positions and vibration frequencies. Click to enter.

He wants all the Boba people to submit to him, to regard him as their heaven, and to revere him as their god.

Chapter 63 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 1)

Seeing Zanbu Zhuotun's nonchalance, the silver lion grew increasingly impatient, circling around his feet more frequently and occasionally letting out a low howl. Although the two snow leopards didn't urge or howl in front of Zanbu Zhuotun, their powerful tails swayed incessantly behind them, revealing their eagerness.

Suddenly, the silver lion raised its body, its forelegs resting on the windowsill, its massive head reaching just above Zanbu Zhuotun's chest.

"Awooo—" It raised its square, short muzzle, baring its sharp white teeth, and howled forcefully at Zanbu Zhuotun, its blue triangular eyes filled with fawning obsequiousness.

Zanbu Zhuotun looked away, paused slightly, then smiled. He reached out and ruffled the silver lion's head, a hint of teasing in his voice. "Silver lion, you really don't look like yourself. Fine, since it's what you asked for, I'll take a look at this pig for you." He left the window and strolled to a sheltered corner.

The mastiff named Pig was wrapped in the crimson carpet that the silver lion had rolled over, only its small head peeking out. Its fine, black braids were scattered on the floor, and its delicate, arched eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort. Its eyes were tightly closed, its cheeks were flushed, and its round, petal-like lips, though dry and chapped, were still vibrant and inviting, contrasting beautifully with its fair and smooth skin, giving its delicate face a rosy radiance, as radiant as the morning sun.

Zanbu Zhuodun raised an eyebrow slightly, his large hand covering her forehead. He felt the smooth, burning skin in his palm; clearly, she had fallen into a coma after catching a chill and developing a high fever. If she hadn't been frightened during the day yesterday, and hadn't exhausted herself confronting the Soul Eye at night, she wouldn't have fallen so ill even if she'd caught a chill during the night. "Just a lowly, useless mastiff slave, dead is dead, what's the point of treating her?" he thought dismissively. He gripped her chin with his fingers, gave it a slight squeeze, and then released it, leaving a purplish-red bruise on her delicate, rounded chin. Her

skin was unusually delicate, even more precious than the most pampered noblewoman of the Boba.

His gaze swept over the nearly oval purplish-red bruise, and he curled his lip slightly, a faint sigh escaping his lips. His rough, long fingers roamed over her burning face, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against her dry lips. A wave of hot breath washed over his fingertips, and his fingers involuntarily paused. After quietly sensing the rolling breath from between her lips for a moment, his index finger, as if possessed, pried open the slightly parted lips and probed into the mastiff slave's mouth.

The delicate tongue that touched his fingertips was soft, slightly dry, and burning hot. He slowly moved this helpless, submissive tongue back and forth, thoroughly exploring it, gradually feeling an urge to pull it out, put it in his mouth, chew it, and swallow it. His fingers moved from the uvula to the oral cavity wall, where the mucous membrane, even softer and smoother than the uvula, was also burning hot, stirring his soul. He continued to slowly explore, his fingertips unconsciously curling slightly, wanting to forcefully tear and rip through this burning, tender flesh, wanting to crush those strong, shiny, white teeth into powder. But this mastiff slave was chosen by Yin Ni and deeply favored by him. She could die of illness, but she absolutely could not die from his abuse, otherwise, even if Yin Ni offered him complete loyalty, he would be enraged and turn against her. And in future battles, there would be many times when Yin Ni would need to lead his mastiff army into battle for him.

His prominent, sexy Adam's apple bobbed several times. After a moment's hesitation, he reluctantly withdrew his fingers. Although he had barely suppressed his sadistic impulse, the itch in his heart wouldn't subside anytime soon. He decisively stood up and clapped his hands three times. Six palace maids waiting outside filed in, carrying various items.

"Take this mastiff back to the mastiff stable and call a doctor to examine her," he coldly ordered one of the maids.

"Yes."

The maid went out into the inner room and led in four palace slaves. Although the four palace slaves were all women, lifting the unconscious Luo Zhu was relatively easy.

The silver lion wagged its tail, affectionately rubbed its head against Zanbu Zhuodun's leg, and then followed the palace slaves out of the bedchamber.

Chapter 63 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 1) Part 2

Suddenly, Zanbu Zhuotun reached out and lifted the chin of the maid who had just fastened his belt. His hawk-like eyes narrowed slightly, his sharp, indifferent gaze sweeping over the maid's face.

Forced to look up, the maid's eyes widened in terror. Instead of the blush of shy joy, her cheeks instantly lost all color.

Two long, dark bronze fingers slipped between the maid's parted lips, the fingertips gently pressing against her two rows of neat teeth. The maid dared not disobey in the slightest, her mouth opening wider and wider with the force of the fingers, finally forming an "o".

Zanbu Zhuotun moved his fingers, the rough pads of his fingers slowly caressing her smooth, soft cheeks as before, causing his thick, sword-like eyebrows to furrow slightly. His fingers then moved from her cheeks to her trembling tongue, gently stroking it.

The maid's mouth gaped open, her arms pressed tightly to her sides, her body trembling slightly, her eyes filled with intensifying fear.

Suddenly, Zanbu Zhuotun's lips curled into a smile, and he pinched the maid's tongue between two fingers and yanked it out. Instantly, blood gushed out.

The maid, her tongue ripped out, trembled uncontrollably in his hands, emitting muffled moans, her beautiful features contorted in agony, her mouth gushing crimson blood.

Faced with this sudden tragedy, the remaining maids remained bowed, their hands continuing to adjust Zanbu Zhuotun's clothes, but the brief pause they showed revealed their inner terror and fear.

The sticky crimson blood splattered onto Zanbu Zhuotun's sharply defined features, adding a touch of bestial, bloodthirsty ferocity to his otherwise sculpted face. The white silk collar of the stand-up padded jacket, embroidered with a platinum dragon cross, was inevitably adorned with clusters of blood-red plum blossoms, blooming with a captivating and tragic beauty.

A glint of light flashed in his sharp, indifferent eagle eyes as he looked at the red tongue held between his fingers. A short, shallow vein connected to the base of the tongue, from which dripped drops of crimson blood. His furrowed brow deepened slightly, a hint of disgust flashing in his eagle eyes. Zanbu Zhuodun pried open the jaw of the maid who had fainted from the pain, shoved the tongue back into her mouth, and casually tossed her to the ground.

He lowered his gaze coldly at the unconscious maid slumped on the ground, her mouth full of blood, and rubbed his two raised fingers together, as if savoring something, or perhaps comparing something. A moment later, he turned to the snow leopards lying beside him and said calmly, "Big Snow, Little Snow, this is for you."

"Roar—roar—"

The two snow leopards wagged their tails excitedly like dogs and howled at him twice. One of the snow leopards grabbed the unconscious maid by the throat and dragged her out, while the other snow leopard followed gleefully beside him.

"Change your clothes." He withdrew his fingers and coldly ordered the maids serving him, his face expressionless.

"Yes."

The maids, who had just stopped serving, began to busy themselves again. Some untied Zanbu Zhuotun's robes and accessories, while others fetched new, clean robes and accessories from the palace servants outside. Their movements became increasingly careful and cautious, and deep in their eyes was a trembling fear, for fear that they would be the next to be devoured by a leopard.

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Luo Zhu felt as if she were bound by steel ropes and thrown into a blazing furnace. The scorching flames seared her skin, evaporating the moisture from her body from the outside in. Her mind was hazy and dizzy from the heat of the flames; her ears and nose felt like they were stuffed with cotton, and her eyes and mouth felt like they were glued shut. She couldn't hear, see, call out, or move; even breathing was incredibly difficult. She was like a fish being fried in oil, every dehydrated cell struggling, every charred nerve screaming in agony.

Water, she needed water, desperately needed to be quenched.

As if someone knew her burning thirst, a cool liquid flowed into her mouth. She was overjoyed, but the next moment her brow furrowed deeply. Bitter! So bitter! Damn, how many kilograms of bitter melon were put in the water? Why is it so bitter it's like it's going to kill me?

No, she has to live! She absolutely has to live! She can manage without water for a while, but she absolutely cannot be forced to die from the bitterness!

Bitter liquid kept flowing into her mouth, only to be resolutely rejected and trickle out from the corners of her lips.

Chapter 64 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part Two)

"Sister Luo Zhu, please drink some, or you'll die... Waaah... You'll die." Gesang Zhuoma, who was tending to her, watched helplessly as Luo Zhu vomited out another bowl of medicine without leaving a drop, tears streaming down her face.

A day and a night had passed since Sister Luo Zhu was sent back to the mastiff quarters by the palace servants, and she had been feverish and unconscious for two days and nights. Although the king had shown great mercy by sending the palace's personal physician to treat her and ordering medicine to be prepared and brought up, the medicine immediately flowed out from the corners of her lips as soon as it entered her mouth, refusing to go down, and her illness showed no improvement whatsoever. Her forehead was still burning hot, and her lips were cracked and bleeding, covered with a thick, hard crust. Every time she heard Luo Zhu's occasional weak, indistinct moans, her heart ached.

"Live...live on," Luo Zhu moaned, but—

Luo Zhu, do you know you're sick! Sick! To live, you must drink medicine! Drink medicine! Please, please drink it! Please drink it!

Tears streamed down her face, her throat choked with sobs. She wanted to shake Luo Zhu's shoulders and yell at her.

It was all her fault, all her fault. If she hadn't fainted, Luo Zhu wouldn't have been dragged to the palace to sleep alone. If she hadn't slept alone, she wouldn't have caught a chill and developed a fever at night.

It was her fault! It was all her fault! Her fault!

Gesang Zhuoma bit her lower lip in self-reproach, trembling as she poured another bowl of medicine, gently pried open Luo Zhu's mouth, and carefully poured the medicine in once more.

Luo Zhu's tongue twitched slightly, and the brown medicine swirled in her mouth before flowing out untouched down her chin, wetting the felt pad beneath her chin.

"Waaah—waaah—" Gesang Zhuoma finally broke down in tears, "Sister Luo Zhu, waaah, don't die! Don't die! Waaah—"

"Shut up." A rough, sinister voice abruptly cut off Gesang Zhuoma's cries, relaxed yet impatient, with a hint of mockery. "Taking care of a patient like this, you'd be dead even if you didn't die."

Gesang Zhuoma was startled by the suddenly familiar voice, gasping for breath, and looked towards the source of the sound through tear-filled eyes.

Leaning against the narrow doorway of the mastiff kennel was a tall, muscular figure. He wore an indigo brocade robe covered with leather, and a snow-white silk shirt with a stand-up collar embroidered with continuous swastika patterns in a mixture of silver-blue and silver-green silk threads. The indigo brocade covering the robe was embroidered with various auspicious cloud patterns and lion and tiger patterns in intricate silver-green silk threads. The robe's hem and sleeves were trimmed with dark brown, precious otter fur. A wide leather belt inlaid with various gemstones cinched his waist, and he wore a pair of simple black high-top leather boots.

The man had a head of unruly, shoulder-length, slightly curly black hair, and a cowhide rope with colorful silk threads tied around his forehead. His right arm was bent at the elbow and rested against the door frame, while his left leg was elegantly and comfortably crossed in front of his right leg. The hazy morning light streamed through the small window, casting a slanted glow on his rugged, handsome face. His long, slightly sunken, dark eyes seemed to simultaneously reflect the crisp morning snow and the golden sunrise, concealing the usual ferocity and bloodthirstiness, and exuding a faint chill and a subtle warmth. A pale, magnetic light bloomed on his slightly parted lips, which, against his dark skin, gave his smile a captivating clarity. In the interplay of light and shadow, the man radiated an approachable, noble mystery and a benevolent clarity.

This man is…is the Royal Black Rider, Zheng Lie?!

Gesang Zhuoma rubbed her eyes in disbelief, wiping away her blurry tears as she looked again. There was no mistake, this man, so different from anyone she knew before, was indeed Shi Jia Ta Xiu.

"You...you..." She stared at Shakyamuni, speechless for a moment, her mind blank. She managed to utter a single word before falling silent, her expression filled with bewilderment and helplessness.

"I heard yesterday that Zhulu was sick, so I got up early today to come and see her. After all, no matter what, she's a slave I personally branded with my slave mark," Shakyamuni explained with a smile. He took a long stride and leisurely strolled into the mastiff barn.

Chapter 064 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part Two) Part Two

The four fierce and ferocious mastiffs guarding the barn did not pounce on Shakyamuni. Instead, they lowered their upper bodies, wagging their tails, adopting a friendly and submissive posture.

"No...don't come any closer!"

Seeing the man approaching, Gesang Zhuoma was both anxious and frightened. In desperation, she turned around abruptly, spreading her arms like a mother hen protecting her chicks, trying to stop Shakyamuni from getting closer.

The image of this man ravaging women like a beast and taking liberties with Sister Luozhu, the ruthless kick that sent her flying, was still vivid in her mind. Compared to his savage cruelty and bloodthirsty murderousness back then, the man before her, with his noble and clear demeanor and warm, benevolent smile, seemed all the more eerie and terrifying.

“How can I check the pig’s condition if you don’t come closer?” Shakyamuni looked down at her, a faint mocking smile playing on his narrow, slightly sunken eyes. “You’re trembling all over, you’d better get out of the way. I’m in a good mood today and don’t want to slaughter slaves.” He leaned down slightly, easily lifting Gesang Zhuoma, who was blocking his way, and casually tossed her behind him.

Gesang Zhuoma quickly scrambled to her feet, ignoring her aches and pains, and crawled toward Shakyamuni, crying out anxiously and fearfully, “Don’t touch me—”

Her words were abruptly cut off by Shakyamuni’s sinister and menacing gaze. She collapsed to the ground, cowering in fear as she looked at Shakyamuni, her body trembling uncontrollably. This terrifying man had transformed from clear-eyed to sinister, from kind to cruel, in a single glance.

Satisfied, Shijia Tashi glanced at Gesang Zhuoma, then gave a cold snort before turning and crouching down to look intently at Luo Zhu. His gaze fell on Luo Zhu's forehead, flushed pink from the high fever, a sharp glint flashing across his eyes. A smile, a mixture of pity and mockery, played on his lips. "Tsk tsk, what a pitiful lackey. He's burning up like this, and he doesn't even have a low couch to lie on." He disdainfully picked up the felt mat used to catch the medicine under Luo Zhu's chin, shaking his head and sighing, "This thing is far too rough; it's rubbed the boar's chin red." Reaching into his robe, he pulled a soft, white silk handkerchief and gently wiped away the brown medicine spilling from Luo Zhu's mouth, casually asking, "How long has the boar been unconscious?"

Gesang Zhuoma froze, her trembling body stiffening. After a moment, she cautiously moved from behind him to his side, glancing at him with trepidation. Seeing his seemingly relaxed yet focused expression as he gazed at Sister Luozhu, a faint hope arose in her heart. Perhaps… perhaps this man really did have some feelings for Sister Luozhu?! The thought that had been shattered by cruel reality suddenly revived and sprouted again at this moment, and she hurriedly and timidly replied in a soft voice, “Reporting to Lord Lie, it has been a day and two nights.”

A day and two nights?

Shakyamuni frowned slightly, his large hand covering Luozhu’s forehead, his palm immediately burning hot. His palm moved down along the side of her forehead, slowly stroking her rosy cheeks, his fingertips pressing against her dry, chapped lips, his brows furrowing even more. The Dharma King had just instructed him yesterday to protect the lives of the two mastiff slaves, and unexpectedly, he had only rushed home from Toling Monastery that night, only to hear that this interesting mastiff slave had fallen ill.

According to the Dharma King, one of the two mastiff slaves was the rarest and most precious sacrificial offering. With her, he could receive the ultimate initiation, and his Tantric practice would reach a new pinnacle. Instinctively, he immediately ruled out the female mastiff who wasn't a virgin but was even more beautiful. However, the words swirled in his mind several times, then circled back to his lips, but ultimately he didn't report his suspicions to the Dharma King.

He hadn't betrayed the Dharma King; his loyalty remained unwavering. He simply hadn't proactively reported anything since the Dharma King hadn't inquired further.

Receiving the ultimate initiation is one of the greatest wishes of a Tantric practitioner. Initially, upon learning he could receive the initiation, he was overjoyed and excited. But for some reason, after realizing the offering might be that intriguing mastiff, his initial excitement vanished, replaced by a strange joy unlike anything before.

Having received initiations dozens of times since childhood, this was the first time he had felt interested in the offering, vaguely sensing that his Tantric practice and life's destiny would be brought a particularly pleasant and comforting fulfillment because of this offering.

He wasn't in a hurry; if the Dharma King's instructions were followed, this rare and precious offering would soon be presented. For now, he'd take good care of this pig. Hmm, although raising a pig before the King was difficult and troublesome, he had always been a man who wasn't afraid of difficulties and even loved trouble.

Chapter 65 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 3)

"Didn't the King assign a doctor to treat her? Why is her fever still so high?" His dark, rough hands, unusually gentle, lightly caressed her burning red face.

"Sister Luo... Luo Zhu refuses to drink her medicine..." Mentioning this, Gesang Zhuoma's beautiful features furrowed with worry, her eyes reddening and brimming with tears.

His hesitant hand paused, then gently pried open Luo Zhu's slightly closed mouth. Shakya Tashi leaned down, his supple yet powerful tongue unexpectedly probing into her hot, tender mouth, swirling around before withdrawing. He pursed his lips, amusement in his long, slightly sunken, deep eyes. He chuckled softly, "So it's because the medicine is too bitter." He lightly touched her hardened, petal-like lips, teasingly adding, "What a naughty little pig!"

She was seeing things! She was seeing things! She was seeing things!

Gesang Zhuoma rubbed her eyes, then rubbed them hard again, completely wiping away the last trace of tears. She stared unblinkingly at Shakyamuni before her, her eyes filled with disbelief and shock. She had guessed that Shakyamuni liked Sister Luozhu, but she had never imagined that such a fierce and cruel man would act like a lover. Although she couldn't see any love or tenderness in his eyes, his behavior was truly incomprehensible.

The hands that caressed Sister Luozhu were no longer as fierce and rough as before, but gentle… gentle—wait, why were those hands moving lower and lower, already reaching into the felt?!

"What are you doing?!" Gesang Zhuoma screamed in alarm, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Sister Luozhu is still sick!"

"Naturally, I'm checking on the pig's condition," Shakyamuni replied calmly, unperturbed by Gesang Zhuoma's disrespect. His hands worked tirelessly within the felt, loosely untying Luozhu's belt, deftly peeling back her fur robe and coarse cotton undergarment, slipping under the hem of her innermost garment.

His touch revealed a patch of hot, delicate, slightly damp skin, like the most delicate flower petal in the morning, or the smoothest cream in a bowl. Even without lifting the felt for a closer look, he could imagine how alluring such skin would be, bathed in a rosy glow. When he was ordered by the king to supervise the pigs' recovery from their injuries, it was because he couldn't bear to see her skin damaged that he readily granted her extravagant request to bathe in animal milk, granting this female slave special treatment comparable to that of a noblewoman from the boba tribe.

Her slender frame was so delicate that it seemed it would break with the slightest force, making her incredibly alluring. Perhaps the gods favored her too much, for nearly a month of life as a mastiff slave and two days and nights of high fever and unconsciousness hadn't caused her to lose much flesh; her small body remained plump, exuding a sweet, delicate fragrance reminiscent of milk tea. Just a touch, a squeeze, was enough to make any man linger, unable to put her down.

His large hands couldn't help but roam and knead her body, starting from her waist and gradually moving upwards, finally covering her high, full breasts, kneading and squeezing them wantonly. The look in his eyes became deep and unfathomable, vaguely flickering with a flame of lust.

"Hmm, those two mounds of flesh, you pig, are still so perky, soft, smooth, plump, and incredibly elastic. I can't forget that wonderful feel after just one touch." Without any fancy techniques, he kneaded them to his liking, a hint of lingering pleasure in his voice. His upturned lips and slightly curved eyes held a meaningful smile, and his teasing words suddenly became soft and low. "Pig, lie down obediently. I need to check if you're aroused."

His fingers gently pinched and kneaded a tender bud that had become slightly hard and erect, while his other hand slipped between Luo Zhu's loosely fastened waistband, gently caressing the mound of flesh that resembled a small hill. It was soft and hairless, with smooth, undulating contours. When he cupped and kneaded the small mound in his palm, his heart softened uncontrollably. His fingers slid down the mound, touching the parted vulva, still smooth and hairless.

Shakyamuni's smile deepened, revealing a sinister and eerie quality.

Chapter 65 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 3, Spicy) Part 2.

He smiled as he watched the unconscious Luo Zhu, extremely satisfied with her current helpless submissiveness. His calloused fingers moved slowly between the delicate flower valleys, sometimes stroking, sometimes kneading, sometimes circling. His fingertips brushed past the tightly closed flower opening, touching the small petals at the edge, then moving to the large petals. The petals were as tender and delicate as lotus flowers, trembling as he freely touched and kneaded them, soon swelling and blooming.

With rare patience and gentleness, he touched each of the four petals, large and small, one by one, finally parting the layers of petals, gently prying open a thin layer of flesh at the top of the petals with his fingertips, and catching a hidden small round flower bud.

The clitoris was even more delicate and tender than the petals, and extremely sensitive. With just a few light and gentle rotations of his fingertips, the tiny clitoris slowly hardened, and a muffled moan escaped his lips.

"It seems that with a gentler teasing of sensitive spots, this young body is quite delightful," Shakyamuni chuckled softly. His fingers, which had been caressing the nipples, began to lewdly knead and rub, while his fingers on the clitoris slowly rotated and scraped, stimulating the increasingly engorged clitoris from different angles.

In the blink of an eye, under the sensual stimulation, the tiny clitoris swelled to the size of a baby's finger, smooth and tender, trembling at the slightest touch. Shakyamuni was both surprised and delighted. He had been with many women, but he never expected that this interesting slave's clitoris, once erect, would be as plump and tender as her fleshy body, so smooth and slippery—a truly rare gem among women. He longed to immediately tear off the blanket and lick and nibble at it. He felt as if he had found a treasure, and

his patience in teasing the woman increased even more. His Adam's apple bobbed several times as he struggled to suppress the urge to tear off the blanket and lick, managing to calmly play with it for a while before gently pinching the clitoris, no bigger than a baby's finger, between his thumb and forefinger, trembling and kneading it like a dragonfly's wings, occasionally scraping the base and sides of the clitoris with the tip of his middle finger.

"Ah...mmm..." Even in her unconscious state, Luo Zhu couldn't suppress her primal lust. Her slightly furrowed brows arched uncomfortably, and soft, intermittent moans escaped from her red, chapped lips, carrying a delicate allure, her fiery cheeks veiled in a hazy, shimmering light.

Seeing this, Shakyamuni's smile turned wicked. The ring and pinky fingers slid back and forth at the entrance of the flower, working in conjunction with the scratching of the middle finger, gently probing the opening. Soon, the fingertips felt wet and sticky.

Taking advantage of this nectar, the middle finger slowly probed inwards, finding it hot, tender, and incredibly tight inside. The smooth, creamy flesh, covered with soft, wrinkled folds, seemed like a thousand tiny mouths with their own lives, desperately sucking, contracting, twisting, and pushing, trying to expel the foreign object that had intruded. How ecstatic it would be to insert a penis into this tight, hot place and thrust vigorously!

The tongue greedily licked the slightly dry lower lip, and the fingers continued to probe into the tight flower path. Soon, they touched a layer of supple mucous membrane.

"Good girl, you haven't seduced a single man yet," he praised with satisfaction, his fingers gently stroking the mucous membrane that symbolized chastity and purity, his fingertips lingering on the edge of the crescent-shaped opening. Seeing the pain in the unconscious pig's furrowed brows, his heart softened, and he slowly withdrew his fingers. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead, his lips sliding down to her ear, whispering softly in a voice too quiet for others to hear, "Big, bright, lively eyes, long, arched dark eyebrows, a fragrant breath, smooth, soft skin, firm, full breasts, a pert, round bottom, a delicate, beardless body, a perfectly intact hymen... even the smooth, beautiful forehead shows a crimson vertical line under the intense heat. Pig, how could I have overlooked these signs of a virgin and let you go so easily?" The fleeting tone trailed off, his firm, cold lips gently nibbling at her small, delicate ear.

Chapter 66 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 4) -

Gesang Zhuoma stared dumbfounded at the scene unfolding before her. Although the felt blanket concealed all of Shakya Tsering's movements, she was not a virgin as innocent as a newborn lamb. From the man's ambiguous and wicked expression and seductive whispers, it wasn't hard to guess what kind of flirtatious and sensual scene was taking place under the blanket.

This...this...how could things have developed like this?!

Was Shakya Tsering here to visit Sister Luo Zhu's illness, or was he taking advantage of her weakness to molest and molest her? Although those in power could humiliate female slaves at will and control their life and death, they were, after all, female slaves chosen by the chief mastiff, Yin Ni, who commanded the military mastiffs, and were mastiff slaves who could freely enter and leave the royal palace with the mastiffs. Was Shakya Sukuna truly so arrogant as to disregard the King, utterly unafraid that the King might harbor suspicion and distrust towards him? Or was Shakya Sukuna convinced that they held insignificant importance in the King's eyes, which was why he entered the mastiff quarters under the guise of visiting the sick, brazenly taking liberties with Sister Luo Zhu?

Amidst her doubts and uncertainty, she caught a glimpse of the man's dark, deep eyes, and heard Sister Luo Zhu's soft, seductive moans, born of her own instincts. Her cheeks burned, and she couldn't help but recall the tender moments she had shared with her lovers.

"Awooo—"

A deep, rumbling howl suddenly sounded outside the mastiff quarters, accompanied by light footsteps.

"It's the Silver Lion!" Gesang Zhuoma snapped out of her reverie, exclaiming, "It saw that Sister Luo Zhu couldn't take her medicine, so it went to call the King early this morning."

Upon hearing this, Shakya Sukuna paused, his heightened liberty instantly diminishing. Reluctantly, he pulled Luo Zhu's ear away and withdrew his hand from her. He swiftly fastened her belt, tied her robes, and tucked in the edges of the felt. Just then, King Zanbu Zhuodun of Guge, accompanied by two palace guards, suddenly appeared at the door of the mastiff enclosure. The beast that had rushed into the room before him was none other than the head mastiff, Yin Ni.

Yin Ni's rough red tongue lolled out, revealing sharp, white teeth. Its blue, triangular eyes coldly glanced at the four mastiffs that were bowing to greet him inside, filled with displeasure. However, when it saw Shakya Tashi beside Luo Zhu, the wariness in its eyes slowly subsided.

"Awooo—" it howled, rushing to Luo Zhu and licking her burning cheek with its tongue, its triangular eyes growing even colder. A series of deep, guttural growls rolled from its throat, seemingly extremely anxious and worried about Luo Zhu's continued unconsciousness.

"Welcome...Welcome, Your Majesty..." Gesang Zhuoma scrambled back to the dark corner of the wall, trembling as she prostrated herself, then dared not move. She feared the mastiffs and snow leopards, the menacing palace guards, Lie Shakya Tashi, and the possibility of being beheaded or strangled to death... She feared many things, but most of all, she feared King Guge, Zanbu Zhuodun.

The bloody experiences in Namua Village and Nurilonggou, and her month-long life as a mastiff slave in the palace, had given her a full understanding of the appalling cruelty of King Guge.

King Guge did not regard slaves and palace servants as human beings at all. In his eyes, they were merely a group of lowly creatures that could move, talk, and serve. Their value was less than the memorials in his hands, less than a felt rug on the floor, and even less than the silk thread tied to the side of his boots. He was capricious, fond of torture, and a ruthless killer, more beastly than any beast. But she only dared to whisper these deeply ingrained words to her sister Luo Zhu in the quiet of the doghouse late at night, to ease the tension and fear that had gripped her for so long.

Now that her sister Luo Zhu was unconscious, she could rely on no one. She had to learn from her sister Luo Zhu and try to minimize her presence to protect herself and avoid attracting the attention of the King of Guge. She had to stay alive to take care of her sister Luo Zhu and help her recover quickly.

Chapter 066 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 4) Part 2

"Your subject respectfully welcomes Your Majesty's arrival." Shakya Tashi stepped forward, bowed, and knelt down, respectfully bowing to Zanbu Zhuodun.

"Raise your head and speak." Zanbu Zhuodun looked down at the man prostrate at his feet and said calmly.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Shakya Tashi touched the ground with his forehead three more times before quickly straightening up and looking at Zanbu Zhuodun with respect and solemnity.

"Your Excellency has come to the mastiff quarters specifically to visit this sick mastiff?" Zanbu Zhuodun asked, his tone indifferent yet revealing no doubt.

"Yes. I personally branded this mastiff with the royal seal in Namu'a village. I also cared for her for over ten days while she was seriously injured, as ordered by the King. Unexpectedly, I developed a strange attachment to her, so I didn't want to see her die young. This morning, I took the time to check on her condition." Shakya Tsering spoke the truth without any concealment or hesitation.

"Oh?" Zanbu Zhuodun's indifference was slightly broken, and he raised his right eyebrow in surprise. "You said you personally branded this mastiff with your seal in Namu'a village?"

"Yes. I humbly request Your Majesty to bestow this mastiff upon me. I will be eternally grateful for Your Majesty's grace." Shakya Tsering quickly crawled forward on his knees and then prostrated himself before him.

Zanbu Zhuodun was slightly taken aback, then smiled faintly: "Lie, it's rare for you to ask for a reward, so I should agree. But this female slave was chosen by Yin Ni, so if you want her, you should ask Yin Ni for her."

As soon as he finished speaking, Yin Ni turned his head and let out a muffled howl of extreme displeasure at Shijia Taxiu, his triangular eyes shooting out a ruthless cold light.

“Lie, it seems the Silver Lion is unwilling to give you its slave.” Zanbu Zhuodun’s smile faded, and he spread his hands in embarrassment. “You know its temperament well. If you take away something it doesn’t want to give up, it will do everything in its power to destroy it. Since you’ve developed a strange attachment to this mastiff slave, are you willing to let the Silver Lion destroy her?”

“Your subject understands.” Shakya Tashi smiled indifferently. “Your subject will not force you.”

Zanbu Zhuodun helped him up, patted his shoulder, and promised, “As compensation, I will bestow upon you a nine-inch golden Buddha, twenty hides of various precious animals, several jeweled necklaces, and ten beautiful female slaves. How about it?”

“Your subject thanks Your Majesty for the reward.” Shakya Tashi bowed and stood to greet Zanbu Zhuodun. His expression was calm, without a trace of displeasure or resentment, nor any restraint or fear.

From the age of six, he had been practicing alongside the Dharma King while simultaneously serving as a guard by the King's side. For twenty years, he had been both teacher and father to the Dharma King, and his relationship with the King was like

that of a ruler and his subject, yet also like that of a friend. His loyalty was split in two, half dedicated to the Dharma King and half to the King. He could become an invincible blade for anyone; he could offer his life and soul for anyone. But this mastiff slave named Pig had stirred in him a strange feeling beyond loyalty.

At first, she had caught his attention with her strong yet resilient will and smooth skin, and then her unusual and absurd background and behavior piqued his interest. Although he hadn't seen her since sending her to the palace a month ago, he would always unconsciously pay attention to the rumors about her in the shadows, his gaze always falling on the slender figure that occasionally flitted past him.

Chapter 67 Luo Zhu is Sick (Part 5)

He coldly observed that the usually arrogant, ferocious, and incomparably brave mastiff, Yin Ni, though utterly loyal to the king, was as docile as an ordinary large dog before her. No, to be precise, Yin Ni seemed to possess a fatherly and masterly affection for her, just like his own intense interest in her; this unfamiliar emotion was not at all contradictory to loyalty. Therefore, he was somewhat reluctant to nip this budding, inexplicable, and strange feeling in the bud.

He believed the Dharma King's words that she would eventually become a precious lotus maiden sacrifice, an inseparable part of his cultivation, so he was not in a hurry to take her away from Yin Ni's claws. The only thing that puzzled him was the king's attitude. That indifferent, cold, and aloof king, who was cold to all things, had not only summoned a doctor for this mastiff slave but had also come to the mastiff's quarters early that morning to check on her.

Although there was some flattery and pleading involved, he had followed the king for twenty years and knew his temperament all too well. If the king truly didn't care, no one, not even the Dharma King, could force him in the slightest. If the king genuinely wanted to reward him, even if the Silver Lion was enraged, he could still obtain this mastiff. But the king used the Silver Lion to refuse his request; could it be that this mastiff had also piqued the king's interest? He pondered this inwardly, his calm and respectful expression revealing no hint of doubt.

Zanbu Zhuodun strode to Luo Zhu, standing and looking down at her for a long time, his eyes flashing with a complex and unfathomable light. His lips curled down and then suddenly curved upward, and he asked softly, "Lie, you must have already checked why the pig won't drink the medicine?"

Shakya Tashi's respectful, rough voice carried a hint of mocking, helpless laughter: "Your Majesty, she probably finds the medicine too bitter."

Zanbu Zhuodun raised an eyebrow in surprise. So bitter that even in her unconscious state, she subconsciously refused to drink the medicine? Where on earth did this slave come from? His haughtiness and willfulness surpassed even that of a noblewoman, forcing the Silver Lion to rush into his bedchamber at the crack of dawn and wake him. While dressing, washing, and eating, it kept pacing back and forth beside him, occasionally howling to urge him on.

It was fortunate that the Silver Lion was still of great use, and he genuinely liked it. Furthermore, the lingering warmth and smoothness between his fingers from the previous night was quite enjoyable; otherwise, such blatant disrespect and offense would have been met with orders to skin it, dismember it, cut its flesh, and chop it into powder long ago.

Slightly curious, he crouched down to examine it closely. This mastiff slave, named Pig, had its eyes closed just as they had been the previous morning. Its thick, long eyelashes curled up like two resting butterfly wings, casting beautiful fan-shaped shadows beneath its eyelids. He hadn't noticed it yesterday, but now he saw a crimson vertical line, about an inch long, appearing in the center of her flushed forehead, adding a touch of alluring charm to her delicate face. Her rosy cheeks were veiled in a faint, dreamlike beauty, and her lips, withered and charred, were covered in thick, hard scabs, with faint red veins peeking through the cracks, making her look rather pitiful.

Her slightly furrowed brows held five parts pain, three parts fragility, and two parts grievance; her usually lowered arched brows were now incredibly vivid. Although her eyes were not yet open, he had a strange feeling that what lay hidden within them was as vibrant as her arched brows. His

fingers pried open her withered lips again, his fingertips tracing the small, tender tongue, teasing and swirling it, caressing the soft mucous membrane of her mouth, the sweet aroma of milk tea lingering in the air. That familiar, hot, smooth sensation invaded my fingertips once again, and that familiar urge to lick and bite rose up again.

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