The soft, warm glow of the spirit lamps in their opulent living room cast long, dancing shadows across the small mountain of scrolls and letters piled on the low, lacquered table.
The air was still, the only sound the faint, distant chirping of night insects from the garden outside. The three of them sat on the plush, comfortable sofa, a quiet, contemplative silence having replaced the earlier, triumphant energy of their return.
Ning Rongrong leaned against Zhang Tian's side, her head resting on his shoulder. She poked at the pile of invitations with a single, elegant finger, a small, bored pout on her beautiful face.
"Well," she said, her voice a soft, unimpressed sigh. "That was… a lot of reading."
Zhu Zhuqing, nestled against his other side, simply nodded, her dark eyes holding a cool, analytical light as she stared at the names and crests of the most powerful factions on the continent.
"So many important people," Ning Rongrong continued, her tone shifting from boredom to a familiar, sharp-edged annoyance. "The Emperor wants to see you. The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan wants to 'discuss matters of mutual interest'. Ugh. That sounds so stuffy. And all five of the elemental academies? It's like every old fossil in the city wants a piece of you."
She sat up, turning to face him fully, her expression turning serious, her brows furrowed with a genuine, practical concern.
"This is… it's a problem, Zhang Tian," she said, her voice losing its usual playful lilt. "These aren't just friendly invitations for tea. This is a summons. They all want the same thing. They want to know our secrets. The Nine Treasure Pagoda, Zhuqing's black ring… they're sharks that have smelled blood in the water."
She shook her head, a worried frown on her face. "We can't just walk in there alone. They're all old, powerful, and incredibly cunning. They'll try to pressure you, to intimidate you. They'll eat you alive in any kind of negotiation! We have to ask Daddy to send Grandpa Sword or Grandpa Bone with us. We need protection. We need to show them that we are not to be trifled with."
Zhu Zhuqing, who had been listening silently, added her own cold, logical assessment. "She is right," she said, her voice a low, smooth murmur. "These are not simple meetings. They are political maneuvers. Each of these factions will see us not as children, but as a strategic asset, or a threat. To go in without the full, public backing and presence of the sect would be a sign of weakness. They might try to… coerce us. To force you to give up your secrets."
Zhang Tian listened to their worries, a calm, almost placid expression on his handsome face. He let them speak, let them voice all their fears and concerns. He saw the genuine, protective love in their eyes, and his heart swelled with a warm, profound affection.
When they had finished, he simply smiled, a gentle, reassuring expression that seemed to instantly calm the anxious energy in the room.
"You are both right to be cautious," he said, his voice a steady, soothing sound. He squeezed their hands gently. "And that is precisely why I will not be meeting with most of them."
The two girls stared at him, their faces a mask of pure, bewildered confusion.
"What?" Ning Rongrong asked, her brow furrowed. "But… you have to! You can't just ignore a summons from the Emperor!"
"I won't be ignoring it," he corrected her gently. "I just won't be the one attending the meeting."
He looked at them, his blue eyes shining with a cool, strategic light. "Think about it. If I go, a thirteen-year-old boy, even with seniors like father-in-law or Grandpa Bone or Grandpa Sword by my side, I would be at a fundamental disadvantage. I would be a junior meeting with seniors, a subject meeting with his Emperor. The very dynamic of the meeting would be one of suppression. They would hold all the power."
He then laid out his counter-strategy, his voice a calm, confident murmur that was a masterpiece of political cunning.
"I will speak with Uncle Ning tomorrow," he explained. "He will be the one to handle these high-level meetings. He is the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. He can meet with the Emperor, with Clan Head like Yu Yuanzhen, with the deans of the academies, as an equal. He will be the face of this miracle. He will control the narrative."
"But what will he say?" Zhu Zhuqing asked, her sharp mind already seeing the potential pitfalls. "They will ask him how. They will demand an explanation."
"And he will give them one," Zhang Tian said, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. "A perfectly plausible, and almost entirely true, one."
He began to detail the cover story, the beautiful, intricate web of deception he had been weaving in his mind for weeks.
"He will tell them that the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, through its vast resources and ancient connections, has discovered a series of long-lost, secret pill recipes from an ancient, fallen clan. He will present my Mystic Water Pills and Spirit Ascension Pills as proof of the sect's new, unparalleled alchemical prowess."
He saw the dawning understanding in their eyes and pressed on. "He will claim that a different, even more secret, and incredibly rare pill is what allowed Rongrong's pagoda to evolve. A pill that requires a specific, unique compatibility with the user's spirit, a one-in-a-million chance. He can even reveal his own, newly evolved Nine Treasure Glaze Tile Pagoda as the ultimate, undeniable proof of the pill's efficacy. It makes our story unshakable."
Ning Rongrong's jaw dropped. "Daddy's pagoda… of course! It's brilliant! No one would dare to question my daddy!"
"Exactly," Zhang Tian confirmed. "And as for Zhuqing's black ring, the explanation is even simpler. Uncle Ning will explain that it was another of those unique pill creations. A pill that temporarily, but dramatically, strengthens the user's physical body and mental fortitude, allowing them to absorb a spirit ring far beyond their normal limits. He will explain that it is a dangerous, one-time process, with a high risk of failure, and that Zhuqing was simply a successful, and very lucky case."
He looked at them, his smile widening. "This strategy accomplishes three things. First, it puts the power, and the attention, firmly on the sect, not on us as individuals. We become the talented beneficiaries of our sect's profound resources, not some mysterious, independent anomalies. It protects us from direct scrutiny."
"Second," he continued, "it dramatically increases the prestige and perceived power of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. They are no longer just the richest sect; they are a sect with a secret, miraculous alchemical legacy. It makes them a far more dangerous and respected power."
"And third," he concluded, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "it creates an insatiable demand for a product that only we can supply. The other factions will be desperate to acquire these pills. And Uncle Ning, as the sole gatekeeper of these 'secret recipes', will be in a position of immense political and economic power. He can trade them for alliances, for resources, for anything he desires."
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing stared at him, their minds reeling from the sheer, breathtaking audacity and brilliance of his plan. He had not just created a defense; he had created a weapon.
"You… you are a monster," Ning Rongrong breathed, her voice filled with a profound, unadulterated awe.
"A terrifyingly brilliant one," Zhu Zhuqing added, her own dark eyes shining with a deep, almost worshipful admiration.
He just chuckled, a low, warm sound. "So, you see," he said, "we do not need to worry about these high-level meetings. Uncle Ning will handle them perfectly."
He then turned his attention back to the pile of invitations on the table. "However," he said, his tone shifting, "that does not mean we will be idle."
He began to sort through the pile, tossing the scrolls from the great clans and academies into one pile, and the simpler, less-ostentatious letters into another.
"I will be meeting with a select few of these," he said, tapping the smaller pile. "The invitations from the smaller mercenary teams. And this one…" He picked up the simple, unadorned scroll that was sealed with a plain, black wax seal. "From the 'solo mercenary', Liu Erlong."
"Why them?" Ning Rongrong asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "They're nobodies compared to the Emperor or the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan."
"Precisely," he said, a cold, calculating light in his eyes. "They are powerful, yes. Spirit Saints, Spirit Douluos even. But they lack the pride and the political baggage of the great clans. They are practical. They can be bought. They can be recruited."
He looked at them, his expression turning serious. "The world is becoming a more dangerous place. The Spirit Hall is growing more aggressive. The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect needs to be stronger. Not just in its core members, but in its allies, its assets. I will use my pills as the ultimate recruitment tool. I will build a network of powerful, loyal experts who will serve the sect. Who will serve… us."
The two girls looked at each other, a new, profound understanding dawning in their eyes. He wasn't just thinking about their own power. He was thinking about their future. Their security. Their empire.
"You are right, of course," Zhu Zhuqing said, her voice a low, firm murmur of agreement. "We will need allies."
"But we will still need protection for these meetings," Ning Rongrong insisted, her practical, cautious nature reasserting itself.
"And we will have it," he agreed instantly. "I will ask Uncle Ning to assign three of the sect's most powerful Spirit Douluos to accompany us. They will be our open, visible guard, a clear statement that we are not to be trifled with."
He then looked at Ning Rongrong, a faint, knowing smile on his lips. "And I will ask Grandpa Sword to remain on standby. Hidden. He will be our trump card, our silent guardian who will only act if I give the signal."
The plan was perfect. It was cautious, yet bold. Deceptive, yet practical. The two girls had no objections. They trusted his judgment completely.
'And as for you, Liu Erlong,' Zhang Tian thought, his gaze lingering on the simple, black-sealed scroll, a cold, amused light in his eyes. 'I still do not know if you are a desperate woman acting on your own, or a pawn in your lover's pathetic little game. But it does not matter.'
He leaned back against the sofa, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face.
'Either way,' he mused to himself, 'this is going to be very, very entertaining.'
~~
In the quiet, secluded wooden cabin nestled by the edge of a tranquil lake, a storm of conflicted emotions was raging. Liu Erlong stood before a full-length mirror, a silent, beautiful predator preparing for a hunt she despised.
The room was simple, practical, a reflection of her usual no-nonsense approach to life. But today, the floor around her was a chaotic sea of discarded dresses. Silks, linens, formal gowns—all had been tried on and tossed aside.
'This is for Xiaogang,' she thought, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. It was a mantra she had been repeating for days, a shield against the rising tide of her own self-loathing.
Her mind was a cold, strategic battlefield. She was not thinking about the humiliation of the task, but about the execution.
'That boy, Zhang Tian,' she mused, her gaze hardening as she stared at her own reflection. 'The reports say he has taken two fiancées. At the same time. He is young, powerful, and clearly a pervert. A man like that is simple. His desires are a weakness. I just need the right approach.'
She analyzed her options. 'Seductive, but not cheap. I am a Spirit Saint, a mercenary queen, not a common whore from a brothel. Powerful, but approachable. I need to make him feel like he is the one in control, even as I am manipulating him.'
She had completely rationalized the situation in her mind. This was not her fault. It was his. It was his base, perverted nature that was forcing her, forcing her dear, noble Xiaogang, to resort to such a distasteful strategy. The thought solidified her resolve, the faint embers of her anger towards Xiaogang completely extinguished and redirected at the man she was about to meet.
Her eyes landed on one final option, a dress she had purchased years ago but had never had the occasion to wear. It was perfect.
She pulled it on. It was crafted from a deep, crimson leather, as supple as silk but with the dangerous allure of a predator's skin. The dress was not revealing in a traditional sense. It had a high collar and long sleeves, but it was tailored with a master's hand, clinging to every powerful, voluptuous curve of her magnificent body like a second skin.
The tight leather strained against the heavy, full globes of her magnificent breasts, pushed up her cleavage, and hugged the slender, powerful line of her waist before flaring out over her wide, curvaceous hips and plump, rounded ass. It was a dress that did not ask for attention; it commanded it.
She styled her fiery red hair, letting it fall in a cascade of controlled chaos over her shoulders. She applied a subtle layer of makeup, just enough to highlight the sharp, fierce beauty of her features, a hint of dark eyeliner making her eyes seem even more piercing.
She looked in the mirror one last time. She was not Liu Erlong, the lovesick woman pining for a man who had abandoned her. She was the Hell Dragon, a powerful, dangerous, and incredibly sexy mercenary queen on a mission. And she would not fail.
As Liu Erlong left the quiet seclusion of the new Shrek Academy, a dark, silent shadow detached itself from the deep woods that bordered the grounds.
Tang Hao moved with a predator's grace, his presence completely erased from the world. He had been watching, waiting. His powerful mental force had easily allowed him to eavesdrop on the conversation between Liu Erlong and Yu Xiaogang days ago. He knew her destination. He knew her mission.
'So the Grandmaster sends his lover to do his dirty work,' Tang Hao thought, a flicker of grim, professional respect in his eyes. 'A good, ruthless strategy. He is a worthy teacher for my son.'
He saw Liu Erlong not as a person, but as a tool. She was the bait. And her meeting with Zhang Tian was the perfect, God-sent opportunity.
'The boy will be focused on her,' he mused, his hand unconsciously clenching around the phantom haft of his hammer. 'His guard will be down. I will strike from the shadows. I will capture him. And then… then the real punishment will begin.'
He followed her at a safe distance, a ghost of vengeance trailing a beautiful, deadly lure. He was so focused on his prey, so consumed by his own cold, hard rage, that he never considered the possibility that he, the hunter, was walking into a trap of his own.
The Golden Goblet was the most exclusive tavern in Heaven Dou City. It was a place where nobles, powerful merchants, and high-level Spirit Masters came to conduct their business in quiet, opulent privacy. The air was filled with the scent of aged wine, expensive cigars, and the low, murmur of powerful people making powerful deals.
Liu Erlong sat in a private, soundproofed room on the second floor, a single glass of untouched wine on the polished table before her. She was the picture of calm, confident power.
She did not have to wait long.
The door to her private room opened, and they entered.
And for a moment, Liu Erlong's carefully constructed composure shattered.
She had seen portraits of him, had read the reports. But no description, no artist's rendering, could have prepared her for the real thing.
He was… beautiful. Impossibly so. His two-toned hair, a mesmerizing blend of sky-blue and blood-red, seemed to catch the light in a way that was almost supernatural. His eyes, a deep, captivating blue with a faint, reddish tint, seemed to hold all the secrets of the world. He moved with an easy, confident grace, an aura of quiet, unshakeable power radiating from him.
Her heart, a thing she had thought long dead to any man but one, gave a single, hard, involuntary thump against her ribs. A faint, treacherous heat spread through her cheeks.
'Get a grip on yourself, Erlong!' she screamed at herself internally. 'He is the enemy! A lecherous, arrogant brat!'
She forcibly calmed her racing heart, averting her eyes from his handsome face, her expression hardening back into the cold, professional mask of a mercenary.
She saw that he was not alone. Flanking him were his two famous fiancées, their own beauty and power a clear statement. And behind them, a new, far more intimidating presence. Three imposing, black-clad men, their faces grim and impassive, their auras the unmistakable, suffocating pressure of Spirit Douluos.
This was not a casual meeting. This was a show of force.
And in a hidden, untouchable space across the street, another, far greater power, watched.
Tang Hao, lurking in a shadowed alleyway, felt the three powerful Spirit Douluo auras, and a cold, predatory smile touched his lips. 'Three Spirit Douluos. A formidable guard. But not enough to stop me.'
And then, he felt it.
A sharp, piercing, and overwhelmingly powerful presence that made the very air around him feel like a blade's edge. It was an aura he had felt before. The Sword Douluo.
His smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure, unadulterated shock.
'Level 97,' his mind reeled. 'His power… it's even greater than before when I saw him back at that Shrek Academy. And he is concealed. Perfectly. I didn't even sense him until he chose to reveal a sliver of his aura.'
The realization was a bucket of ice water dumped over the raging fire of his hatred.
'This…This is bad for me,' he thought, his blood running cold. 'The security of this brat and his lovers is too secure. I can't break through here without risking my own life or revealing my presence or bringing danger to my son.'
He looked at the tavern, at the calm, smiling boy who was now being escorted inside. Rage, pure and impotent, warred with his survival instinct.
He could not fight a Level 97 Sword Douluo, three Spirit Douluos, and then hope to escape the capital before the entire Spirit Hall descended upon him. It was suicide.
With a low, guttural snarl of pure, unwilling frustration, Tang Hao melted back into the shadows, a hunter who had just realized he was the prey.
From his own hidden vantage point, the Sword Douluo felt the brief, intense Titled Douluo presence vanish. A faint, disappointed sigh escaped his lips. 'Pity. I was hoping for a good fight with whoever this guy is.'
~~
The trio had entered the private room of The Golden Goblet. The air was rich with the scent of polished wood, old wine, and the faint, sweet aroma of expensive perfume. It was a room designed for quiet, powerful dealings, a sanctuary of opulent privacy.
Liu Erlong stood as they approached the table, her posture a perfect, disciplined line. Her face was a mask of professional, respectful admiration.
"Mister Zhang Tian," she said, her voice a low, smooth melody that was both powerful and pleasing to the ear. She gave a slight, formal bow. "And Young Misses. It is an honor to finally meet the legendary Treasure Silver Civet team in person."
Zhang Tian just smiled, a lazy, amused expression on his handsome face. He walked past her to the head of the table and sat down, his movements fluid and confident.
His gaze, however, was anything but polite.
It was an open, blatant, and utterly shameless appraisal. It started at her fiery red hair, moved down to her sharp, beautiful face, lingered for a long, appreciative moment on the magnificent, powerful curves of her breasts, which were straining against the tight, crimson leather of her dress. His eyes then traced the impossibly slender line of her waist, the breathtaking flare of her wide, curvaceous hips, and the long, powerful line of her legs.
He was not subtle. He was not discreet. He was looking at her like a connoisseur examining a fine, rare spirit beast, a predator cataloguing the strengths and weaknesses of a particularly fine specimen.
'She is beautiful,' he thought, his mind a calm, analytical machine. The initial flutter of surprise he had felt at her appearance had been ruthlessly suppressed, replaced by a cold, clinical assessment. 'A wild, untamed beauty. Different from my lovers. Rongrong has her sweet, noble grace. Zhuqing has that cold, lethal sensuality. And Ah Yin… Ah Yin is a masterpiece of mature, motherly perfection.'
His mental gaze continued its dissection. 'This one… her beauty is fierce. Powerful. But it is a step below theirs. Ten years younger, perhaps, and she might have been a worthy addition to my collection of lovers. But now…'
He thought of her story, of her twenty-year-long, self-imposed exile, all for a man who had abandoned her.
'Her mind is her greatest flaw,' he concluded, a flicker of cold, pitying contempt in his eyes. 'To wait twenty years for a good-for-nothing fool like Yu Xiaogang… she is a woman ruled by a single, blinding emotion. Such a person is easy to manipulate.'
His gaze lingered on her magnificent body one last time. 'But that body… it is a magnificent thing. Powerful, voluptuous. A body that seems to have been made for one purpose, and one purpose only. For fucking.'
A slow, predatory smile touched his inner thoughts. 'She will be a useful tool. A perfect instrument to torment Yu Xiaogang. And perhaps… a fine mistress to keep on the side. A beautiful, powerful slut to fuck whenever I desire, without the complications of a serious relationship.'
Liu Erlong felt his gaze like a physical touch, a slow, hot caress that traced every curve of her body. A surge of pure, unadulterated rage, so intense it made her want to summon her spirit and incinerate him where he sat, washed over her.
But she ruthlessly suppressed it. This was part of the game. He was a pervert. And she was here to exploit that weakness.
"Please, sit," he said finally, his voice a lazy, amused drawl as he gestured to the chair opposite him.
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing sat on either side of him, their own expressions a mixture of polite curiosity and a faint, possessive hostility. They had felt his gaze on the woman, and they did not like it.
They ordered food and drinks, a lavish spread of roasted meats, fine cheeses, and a bottle of the tavern's best fruit wine. The initial moments of the meeting were filled with a tense, polite silence, broken only by the soft clinking of cutlery.
Finally, Liu Erlong began her act. She spoke of her life as a solo mercenary, of her struggles to break through her cultivation bottlenecks, of her ambition to one day reach the peak of the Spirit Master world. She praised their legendary performance in the arena, her voice filled with a convincing, reverent awe.
And then, she made her request.
"I have heard the rumors," she said, her voice a low, pleading murmur, her eyes shining with a desperate, ambitious light. "Of your miraculous methods. A way to evolve one's spirit. A way to absorb spirit rings far beyond the normal limits. A way to cultivate at a speed that defies the heavens."
She looked at them, her expression one of profound, humble supplication. "I wish to learn. I wish to become stronger. I will offer you anything. Whatever wealth I possess, it is yours."
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, as they had planned, took the lead in the negotiation.
"Your request is… ambitious, Miss Erlong," Ning Rongrong said, her voice polite but firm, the cool, confident tone of a princess who was used to dealing with supplicants. "The secrets you ask for are not simple things. They are treasures that could change the very fabric of the world."
Liu Erlong nodded, her expression serious. "I understand that. Which is why I am prepared to offer a price that reflects their value." She reached into her own storage spirit tool and produced a black, crystal card, placing it on the table.
"This card," she said, her voice steady, "contains my life's savings. Ten million gold spirit coins. It is all yours, in exchange for the methods."
Ning Rongrong just looked at the card, a faint, almost pitying smile on her lips. She didn't even touch it. She turned her gaze to her sister-wife.
Zhu Zhuqing's voice was even colder, more direct. "Gold coins are meaningless to us, Miss Erlong," she said, her tone a blade of ice. "My fiancée, Ning Rongrong, is the sole heiress of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. The amount you offer is… a triviality. It is not even enough to cover her monthly allowance for personal spending."
Liu Erlong felt a flash of humiliation, but her expression did not change. She had been prepared for this. "I understand," she said, retrieving her card. "Wealth is not the only currency in this world."
She leaned forward, her gaze intense. "Then let me offer you a promise. I am a Spirit Saint. My next spirit ring will be a ten-thousand-year one, at the very least. When I am hunting for it, if I am fortunate enough to acquire a spirit bone, a treasure of at least thirty thousand years of age, I will give it to you. A spirit bone for your secrets. That is a fair trade, is it not?"
Ning Rongrong just let out a soft, tinkling laugh, a sound that was both beautiful and incredibly condescending.
"A thirty-thousand-year-old spirit bone is a fine treasure, Miss Erlong," she said, her voice a sweet, honeyed poison. "For most people. But my husband and my sister here… we tend to deal only in treasures of fifty thousand years or more. And a 'promise' of a future treasure like a Spirit Bone… it is a currency with no value at all."
Liu Erlong's jaw tightened. She had expected them to be arrogant, but this was on another level entirely. They were dismissing treasures that other Spirit Masters would kill for as if they were common trinkets.
She tried a different tack. "I am a mercenary," she said, her voice regaining its proud, confident tone. "I have travelled the continent. I have access to rare forging materials, to information that even some clans and sects cannot easily acquire. Perhaps I could offer you these things?"
Zhu Zhuqing just shook her head slowly, a look of almost bored indifference on her beautiful face. "The forging resources of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect are the greatest in the world. And our information network is second to none. I am afraid, Miss Erlong, that you have nothing that we do not already possess in greater quantity and quality."
Every offer she made was elegantly, ruthlessly, and completely shut down. The two girls, who looked so young, so beautiful, were a pair of impenetrable, diamond-hard negotiators. Liu Erlong could feel a cold, desperate sweat begin to form on her back. She was failing.
She took a deep, steadying breath. It was time for her final, most valuable offer.
"I see," she said, her voice now a low, serious murmur. She looked at them, at the three powerful, monstrously talented youths before her. "You are right. I have no material wealth that can match your own. So, I will offer you the only thing of true value that I possess."
She stood up, her posture proud and unyielding. "I will offer you myself."
She released a sliver of her spirit power, and a magnificent, terrifying phantom of a fiery red dragon appeared behind her, its aura a palpable, searing heat.
"I am Liu Erlong," she declared, her voice ringing with a new, powerful authority. "A Level 78 Spirit Saint. My Martial Spirit is top tier Beast Spirit…the Fire Dragon. I will soon break through to the Spirit Douluo realm. I offer you my strength. My loyalty. My life."
She looked at them, her eyes burning with a fierce, desperate passion. "I will become your sword, your shield. I will protect the disciples of your sect on their hunts. I will eliminate your enemies. I will perform any task you ask of me. A Spirit Saint, soon to be a Spirit Douluo, bound by a life-oath of loyalty. That… that is my final price."
The two girls looked at each other. They were genuinely, truly, almost convinced. The offer was a good one. A powerful, loyal Spirit Douluo was a valuable asset, even for a sect as powerful as the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect.
It was then that Zhang Tian, who had been silently sipping his wine, finally spoke.
"Your offer is… interesting," he said, his voice a lazy, amused drawl. He set his cup down and leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory light.
"But a matter as secret as 'Spirit Evolution' cannot be discussed in a public place, no matter how private the room."
He reached into his storage ring and produced an object, placing it on the table with a heavy, metallic clank.
It was a set of intricately carved, dark metal chains.
"For any real negotiations to take place," he said, his voice dropping to a low, non-negotiable murmur, "you must meet me privately. At a time and place of my choosing. And to ensure my own… safety… against a powerful Spirit Saint such as yourself, you will come alone. And you will come wearing these."
He pushed the spirit power suppression chains across the table. "They will reduce your power to the level of a Spirit Grandmaster. And they are physically unbreakable by anyone below the rank of a Spirit Douluo. These are my terms."
Liu Erlong stared at the chains, and then at his smiling, arrogant face. A wave of pure, unadulterated humiliation, so intense it was a physical thing, washed over her.
He was treating her like a common criminal. A dangerous, untrustworthy animal to be shackled.
Her inner thoughts were a screaming vortex of rage and self-loathing. 'This arrogant, perverted little bastard! How dare he?!'
But then, she thought of Xiaogang. Of his sad, weary face. Of his desperate, broken plea. Of his small, fragile promise of a future together.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands clenching into fists under the table.
"I… I agree," she said, her voice a strained, choked whisper.
"Excellent," he said, his smile widening. He stood up, as if the matter were already concluded.
"When?" she asked, her voice tight. "And where?"
He just chuckled. "Patience, Miss Erlong. The barkeeper will have a message for you. When I am ready."
With that, he stood, casually wrapped his arms around the waists of his two beautiful, triumphant wives, and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned, conflicted, and deeply, deeply humiliated Liu Erlong alone with the heavy, cold chains and the bitter taste of her own submission.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon