The crash of porcelain was a period at the end of a sentence, a definitive, shattering conclusion to the night's brutal lesson. Mengue fled, her flight a silent scream that left a vacuum in the room. In that vacuum, there was only the sound of my own ragged breathing and the slow, steady beat of Zhao Lihua's heart. I remained on the floor, collared, leashed, the spilled tea and wine beginning to seep into the fine rug, a testament to the mess she had so artfully created.
My mind, which had been a screaming wasteland of shame and ecstasy moments before, was rebooting. The raw, animal part of me was sated, broken, and still thrumming with the aftershocks of a pleasure so profound it bordered on annihilation. But the villain, the software engineer, the strategist, was already collecting the data, analyzing the wreckage. She had won this round so completely, so utterly, that she believed the game was over. She was mistaken. She had not broken me. She had merely given me the key to her own operating system. I now knew, with absolute certainty, the name of her deepest, most secret desire: to not just be powerful, but to be the only source of power in my life.
"It seems the help is clumsy tonight," Zhao Lihua purred from her throne-like chair, her voice a symphony of smug satisfaction. She tugged gently on the silk leash, a gesture that was both a command and a caress. "A pity. I was enjoying the audience."
I crawled the few feet towards her, the movement no longer a performance, but a conditioned response. I rested my head on her knee, looking up at her, my expression a carefully crafted mask of broken, dog-like devotion. "She does not understand, my queen," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "She cannot comprehend the honor of being in your presence."
"No," Lihua agreed, her fingers stroking through my hair, a gesture that was both affectionate and deeply condescending. "She cannot. But I understand you now, Lu Bing. Completely."
She stood, pulling me to my feet by the leash. "The night is not over. Your tribute is not yet paid in full. You have given me your shame. Now, you will give me your worship."
The hours that followed were a deep, immersive exploration of her victory. She used me with a creative, relentless cruelty that was breathtaking. But throughout the ordeal, a part of my mind remained detached, analytical. I was cataloging her every move, her every sigh, every flicker of triumph in her eyes. I was learning her.
When dawn approached, she finally dismissed me, not with a word, but with a gesture of bored finality, like a child tossing aside a favorite toy she had finally broken. I gathered my robes and left her chambers, walking not with a shuffle of shame, but with the quiet, deliberate steps of a man who has just downloaded his enemy's entire psychological profile.
My first priority was Mengue. The damage done to her was a greater strategic failure than my own temporary submission. I found her in my chambers, not crying, but sitting ramrod straight in a chair, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shield. Her face was pale, but her eyes, when they met mine, were not filled with horror or disgust. They were filled with a deep, profound, and heartbreaking pain. It was the pain of a woman who has just seen the man she adores in the depths of his own private hell.
I walked to her and knelt before her, taking her cold hands in mine. "Mengue," I said, my voice soft, filled with a regret that was entirely genuine. "I am sorry. You should never have seen that."
She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "I am not… disgusted," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I am angry. And I am afraid. I am angry at her, for what she did to you. And I am afraid for you, because… you liked it, didn't you?"
The raw honesty of her question hit me harder than any of Lihua's cruelties. I couldn't lie to her. Not to her.
"Yes," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "A part of me did. A broken, twisted part I keep locked away."
"Then show it to me," she said, her grip on my hands tightening. "Don't hide it from me, Master. Don't let me be just the 'comfort' you come to when the queen is finished with her games. If there is a darkness in you, then let me see it. A partner should not be afraid of the dark."
I looked at her, at the fierce, unwavering loyalty in her eyes, and I understood. This was her strength. Not dominance, not cruelty, but a love so profound it was willing to step into the abyss without flinching.
I told her everything. I told her about my philosophy, my desire for powerful women, and the strange, paradoxical pleasure I found in submitting to them. I explained that my dynamic with Lihua was a cold, transactional war, a necessary evil in our partnership. I made it clear that I would never, ever ask or expect her to be like that.
"Your kindness, your warmth… that is my sanctuary, Mengue," I finished, my voice thick with emotion. "It is the only part of this new, monstrous life that feels real. I don't want you to change. I need you to be exactly who you are."
She listened, her expression unreadable. When I was done, she was silent for a long time. Then she stood up, pulling me to my feet. She unwrapped the blanket from her shoulders and led me to the bed.
"Then let me show you what I am," she whispered.
She pushed me gently back onto the bed, a gesture so uncharacteristically forward it sent a jolt of surprise through me. She did not ask me to strip. She began to slowly, deliberately undress me herself, her touch gentle but firm, her eyes never leaving mine. It was not the act of a servant, but of a woman taking possession.
When I was naked, she pushed me back against the pillows. She did not demand that I kneel or beg. She simply climbed onto the bed and straddled my hips, her simple cotton nightdress a stark contrast to the severe silks of Zhao Lihua. She looked down at me, her beautiful face illuminated by the morning sun streaming through the window. And in her eyes, I saw something new. Not cruelty, not command. But a fierce, burning, protective possessiveness. It was the look of a lioness standing over her wounded mate.
"You give so much of yourself away to them," she whispered, her hands coming up to frame my face. "To the strategist, to the student, to the ice queen. You let them use you, test you, break you down. You carry the weight of all their ambitions."
She leaned down, her lips brushing against mine. "Tonight, you will carry nothing. You will not be the master. You will not be the villain. You will not be the dog. Tonight, you will just be mine. And I will take care of you."
Her kiss was not the tender, hesitant kiss I was used to. It was deep, hungry, and utterly dominant. She took control, her body moving against mine with a newfound confidence, her hands exploring my body not with a servant's touch, but with a lover's claim.
I felt the power dynamic shift, not because of a command, but because of an offering. She was not playing a role. She had seen my vulnerability, my secret shame, and her response was not to exploit it, but to shield it, to conquer it with her love. Her dominance was born not of a desire to humiliate, but of a fierce, primal need to protect and possess the man she loved.
She rode me with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her eyes locked on mine. She was watching me, learning me, finding a profound, intoxicating pleasure in my surrender to her. Her moans were not of her own release, but of her joy in mine. She was getting off on my pleasure, on the knowledge that she, the gentle widow, was the only one who could provide this for me, the only one to whom I would give this part of myself freely, without a fight.
As I came apart beneath her, my body arching to meet hers, I realized the truth. Zhao Lihua could command my body, but Mengue… Mengue was claiming my soul.
My departure for the Lu Clan two days later was a quiet affair. The four queens of my burgeoning empire saw me off in the main courtyard. Lihua stood with her arms crossed, a cool, possessive glint in her eyes. She believed she had won, that she had collared her dog. She had no idea that the real leash was being held by the quiet woman standing beside her.
Chixi gave me a curt, professional nod. Her loyalty was still a fractured thing, but her respect was now a tangible presence. Fengue, for her part, looked at me with a new, complex understanding. Our experiment was on hold, but her education was far from over.
It was Mengue who surprised me. As I made to climb into the carriage, she stepped forward, ignoring the others. She straightened my collar, her movements intimate and proprietary. "Do not be gone too long, Master," she whispered, her voice a soft command that sent a shiver down my spine. "Your queen will miss her throne."
She then gave me a quick, firm kiss, a public act of possession that was more powerful than any of Lihua's private cruelties. I saw Lihua's eyes narrow, a flicker of shock and fury crossing her face before her mask of composure slammed back down. The first shot in the war between my queens had just been fired, and the gentle widow had drawn first blood.
I climbed into the carriage, a wolf returning to his old, broken pack. The journey ahead was filled with danger, with political intrigue, with the looming threat of Lu Ren and her slave seal. But for the first time, I was not just fighting for myself. I was fighting for the queens I had left behind.
My first act upon returning to the Lu Clan would not be to address the border disputes. It would be to establish a new industry, a new source of power that would be mine and mine alone, independent of both my ambitious partners. I would take my knowledge of my old world and introduce a concept so revolutionary it would shatter the economic foundations of this one.
I was going to invent modern banking. Fractional-reserve lending, interest rates, letters of credit. I was going to create a system where I could conjure wealth from nothing, a river of gold that would flow from my hands alone. And the first branch of the Golden River Bank would be managed by a man I trusted implicitly, a man whose loyalty I would have to earn. A rare thing in my new life: a male friend. I would need to find one, and fast. The game was no longer just about seducing queens; it was about financing a revolution. And I was about to become the world's first, and most villainous, central banker.