The heavy, wrought-iron gates of the secluded estate swung shut with a resounding, metallic clank, sealing the frozen world outside. Tang Yuehua stood in the grand foyer of the manor, her breath pluming in the ambient warmth of the room. The transition from the biting, relentless gales of the northern tundra to the opulent, hearth-warmed interior was jarring. The foyer was a masterpiece of architectural elegance, lined with polished marble, glowing crystal spirit-lamps, and thick, woven carpets that swallowed the sound of her trembling footsteps.
Yet, all the lavish decorations faded into insignificance before the solitary figure leaning casually against the central pillar.
Zhang Tian watched her arrival with a gaze that stripped away every layer of her meticulously crafted aristocratic composure. He was dressed in his customary, immaculate dark robes, his broad shoulders relaxed, a dark, deeply amused smile playing upon his handsome features. He did not look like a tyrant who had just brought an empire to its knees, nor did he look like the sadistic jailer holding her family hostage. He looked entirely, terrifyingly at ease.
"Welcome to my domain, Tang Yuehua," Zhang Tian spoke, his voice a smooth, resonant baritone that carried effortlessly across the marble floor. He pushed himself off the pillar, taking a slow, measured step toward her. "You are remarkably punctual. I appreciate a guest who respects a deadline."
Tang Yuehua swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She forced her spine to straighten, drawing upon decades of rigorous training in courtly etiquette to prevent her knees from buckling under the sheer weight of his presence. She did not offer a curtsy, nor did she speak a word of greeting. She merely stared at him, her beautiful face a pale mask of suppressed dread.
Zhang Tian did not seem bothered by her silence. He gestured casually toward her shivering form. "We are indoors now. There is no need to hide yourself like a common smuggler. Remove the cloak."
Tang Yuehua's jaw tightened. She gritted her teeth, a spark of defiant, aristocratic pride flaring briefly in her chest. She loathed taking orders from the man who was systematically dismantling her lineage. However, she knew the fragile, precarious nature of her current situation. She reached up with trembling fingers, unfastening the heavy silver clasp at her throat.
The thick, dark wool cloak slid from her shoulders, pooling heavily onto the polished marble floor.
Beneath the disguise, she was not wearing the immaculate, flowing silver gowns that had made her a legendary icon of beauty and grace within the Moon Pavilion. To endure the arduous, secretive five-day journey across the continent without drawing unwanted attention from border patrols, she had been forced to adopt a much more practical attire.
She wore a set of rustic, fitted travel garments. A sturdy, muted grey tunic clung to her torso, paired with dark, durable trousers and thick leather riding boots. It was the clothing of a common merchant or a wandering healer. The fabric lacked any hint of embroidery or luxurious sheen.
Yet, as she stood there, the rustic clothing completely failed to diminish her breathtaking allure. The snug fit of the practical tunic only served to inadvertently highlight the heavy, mature swell of her breasts and the elegant, narrow curve of her waist. The durable trousers traced the generous, sweeping flare of her wide hips and the shapely contour of her thighs. Her sky blue hair, usually pinned in elaborate, flawless updos, tumbled freely over her shoulders in a cascade of soft, messy waves. She looked raw, grounded, and undeniably, staggeringly beautiful.
Zhang Tian's icy blue eyes swept over her form from head to toe. The amused smile on his lips widened significantly, a flicker of genuine, predatory appreciation lighting up his gaze.
"Fascinating," Zhang Tian murmured, his tone laced with a dark, assessing approval. "Even stripped of your silks and your pavilion's grandeur, your figure does not disappoint in the slightest. The rustic aesthetic suits you surprisingly well. It strips away the pretense."
Tang Yuehua crossed her arms defensively over her chest, her face flushing with a mixture of humiliation and anger at his blatant, assessing stare. "I did not endure a five-day journey through the snow to serve as a visual exhibition for your amusement. You gave me an ultimatum, and I am here. Tell me where my brothers are."
Zhang Tian ignored her demand entirely. He pointed a long, elegant finger toward a grand, sweeping staircase located at the far end of the foyer.
"Ascend the stairs," Zhang Tian instructed, his voice dropping to a smooth, unyielding command. "Take the first corridor to your left. The third door on the right leads to a prepared bedchamber. You will go inside, take a long, thorough bath to wash the grime of the road from your skin, and you will dress yourself in the garments I have specifically laid out for you on the bed. Once you are properly attired, you will come find me in the main living room."
Tang Yuehua froze, her boots refusing to move toward the staircase. The reality of the transaction was finally crashing down upon her. Bathing in his estate, putting on clothes he had chosen... it was the systematic, deliberate stripping of her agency. It was the ritual preparation of a captive offering.
She took a deep, ragged breath, her mind racing frantically. She had spent the entire journey formulating strategies, analyzing his motivations, and searching for any possible leverage she could utilize to alter the terms of this devastating agreement.
"Lord Marquis," Tang Yuehua spoke out, her voice trembling slightly but carrying a desperate, bargaining edge. "Can we not consider replacing this specific condition? Is there truly nothing else you desire?"
Zhang Tian paused, his gaze narrowing slightly as he looked at her. He did not speak, allowing her to present her desperate plea.
"I am the master of the Moon Pavilion. I hold the strings to the most expansive, deeply embedded intelligence network in the Star Luo Empire," Tang Yuehua pressed on, taking a hesitant step forward. "Any other condition, I will meet it. If you want exhaustive, highly classified information about my grandfather, Tang Chen, I will give it to you. If you want the precise cultivation details and the tactical weaknesses of my nephew, Tang San, I will lay them bare. If you desire the detailed, comprehensive geographical coordinates and the defensive formations of Sea God Island, I will provide every scrap of intelligence my network has gathered."
She laid her ultimate, treacherous offering on the table, staring directly into his icy blue eyes. "Moreover, if you release my brothers unscathed, I will put my own life on the line to ensure that the Clear Sky Sect will never act as your enemy again. I swear that nobody from my sect will ever hunt you. You can have the deepest secrets of the Star Luo Empire, Zhang Tian."
Her offer was a profound, staggering betrayal of her own blood. She was subtly, desperately signaling to him that she would much rather sell out the deepest secrets of the Clear Sky Sect, and even actively betray her own family's tactical advantages, rather than be forced to surrender her body and her dignity to a man like him.
For a supreme Spirit Master like Zhang Tian, a man clearly driven by ambition and an endless thirst for power, he must definitely be deeply curious about the realm of Gods. The hidden sanctuary of Sea God Island should naturally hold immense, irresistible interest to him.
She knew he already possessed some vague, overarching knowledge of the island, likely acquired through the intelligence channels of the Spirit Hall. Tang Yuehua was intimately aware of his romantic, highly publicized involvement with the Young Miss of the Spirit Hall, Qian Renxue, who was the direct granddaughter of the Angel Douluo, Qian Daoliu. She had learned this crucial bit of information from her grandfather, Tang Chen, and her elder brothers, Tang Hao and Tang Xiao. The surviving elders who had participated in that disastrous, bloody siege on the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect had vividly described how Qian Renxue had fought alongside Zhang Tian, utilizing her divine Seraphim flames to incinerate their vanguard. They had recounted how Qian Daoliu himself had descended from the heavens to protect the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect—simply because Zhang Tian's wife, Ning Rongrong, belonged to that clan—and how the Angel Douluo had physically restrained Tang Chen to prevent a total slaughter.
Tang Yuehua was banking heavily on this complex web of divine politics. Moreover, she harbored her own, deeply concealed schemes behind her generous offer.
'As for my oath to ensure the Clear Sky Sect will not harm him...' Tang Yuehua thought, her mind calculating the loopholes of her own desperate promise. 'It binds only me. It certainly does not bind Brother Tang Hao, Brother Tang Xiao, or Grandfather Tang Chen. They will not be constrained by a desperate promise I make today. When the time is right, this false peace will provide them the perfect opportunity to strike him down when he least expects it. I just need to get my brothers out of here alive.'
Furthermore, even if she did surrender all the classified information about her elder brothers, her grandfather, or the geographical layout of Sea God Island, she was entirely sure that Zhang Tian wouldn't realistically be able to do anything destructive with it. She knew intimately from the reports provided by Tang Chen and Tang Xiao that her grandfather shared a profoundly good, ancient relationship with the High Priestess of Sea God Island, Bo Saixi. She also knew that her nephew, Tang San, had already triggered the golden trials and was destined to become the next Sea God.
Therefore, if Zhang Tian allowed his arrogance to blind him, and if he actually tried to use her provided intelligence to scheme against or launch an attack on Sea God Island... he would inevitably face the ultimate, devastating price for his hubris. He would not just be offending the powerful Sea Spirit Masters or the High Priestess; he would be drawing the direct, wrathful action of the current, reigning Sea God. The deity would surely descend to protect his chosen successor and obliterate Zhang Tian.
It was a flawless, desperate gambit. Offer the secrets, save her brothers, protect her chastity, and potentially lure the monster of the north into a divine trap that would erase him from the continent forever.
Zhang Tian stood motionless, staring at her as she finished her frantic, breathless proposal. The dark amusement slowly drained from his face. His expression shifted, becoming incredibly, terrifyingly serious. The ambient temperature in the foyer seemed to plummet by several degrees, a heavy, suffocating pressure descending upon her shoulders.
"If you truly wished to replace this condition, Tang Yuehua," Zhang Tian spoke casually, though his voice carried the sharp, unforgiving edge of a drawn blade, "you should have been much more adamant about negotiating your terms when we spoke on the Communication Spirit Tool five days ago. The time for bargaining has long since passed."
He tilted his head slightly, his icy blue eyes boring directly into her soul. "Now... to actually dare to stand in my foyer and refuse to follow my direct command, despite having explicitly traveled here to accept my demands... means paying the price."
Tang Yuehua's breath hitched violently in her throat. She took a panicked, stumbling step backward, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She had a terrible, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She thought Zhang Tian was going to unleash his power, to cross the room and physically assault her for her defiance. She braced herself, her eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the strike.
But the blow never came.
Zhang Tian didn't do anything to her. He didn't summon his crimson vines. He didn't even take a single step toward her. He merely stood by the pillar, his hands resting comfortably behind his back, watching her flinch with a look of detached, clinical observation.
Instead... a sharp, highly piercing notification sound suddenly echoed from the deep pocket of her rustic travel trousers.
BEEP. BEEP.
It was her personal Communication Spirit Tool.
Tang Yuehua froze entirely. She stared at her pocket, then looked up at Zhang Tian. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably. She didn't dare to reach down and pick the device up to check the notification. She could feel the thick, electric tension hanging in the air, a heavy, suffocating premonition warning her that whatever rested on that glowing screen was going to shatter her world.
"Check it," Zhang Tian told her casually, gesturing toward her pocket with a slight nod of his head.
Tang Yuehua swallowed hard. Driven by a morbid, terrifying compulsion she could not resist, she slowly reached into her pocket. Her trembling fingers grasped the smooth, cold jade slab and pulled it out.
She unlocked the screen. She saw that she had just received a direct image message from an entirely unknown, heavily encrypted contact.
Her thumb hovered over the glowing rune for a fraction of a second before she pressed it, opening the message.
The high-definition image loaded instantly onto the bright screen.
Tang Yuehua let out a choked, horrifying gasp. All the air was violently punched from her lungs.
The photograph displayed the dark, filthy, sludge-covered floor of a dungeon cell. Lying in the center of the muck, surrounded by severed chains and pooling, dark crimson blood, was a severed human arm.
It was a massive, heavily scarred, and deeply muscled limb, torn violently from the shoulder joint. The ragged, bloody stump of bone and torn tissue was captured in gruesome detail.
She didn't need to think deeply, or even zoom in on the specific tribal tattoos etched into the forearm, to know exactly who this severed limb belonged to. It belonged to Tang Boqin.
Moreover... the sheer, devastating horror of the image lay in the specific anatomy. This was his right arm. It was the dominant, foundational arm with which he holds his heavy Clear Sky Hammer. It was the arm required to channel the immense, kinetic power needed to execute the profound, rhythmic strikes of their martial spirit. For any seasoned member of the Clear Sky Sect who had awakened the hammer, slicing off the right arm was a fate objectively worse than simply killing them. Without their right hand, the delicate, intricate balance required for the Clear Sky Nine Absolutes or the Disorder Splitting Wind technique was permanently shattered. They would never be able to unleash their techniques properly for the rest of their lives. Tang Boqin's life as a proud, high-ranking Spirit Master was entirely, irrevocably crippled.
Tang Yuehua's vision swam with tears of pure, unadulterated fury. She ripped her gaze away from the horrifying image and stared at Zhang Tian. Her beautiful face was twisted into a mask of intense anger and deep, boiling hatred.
"What is this?!" Tang Yuehua screamed at him, her voice cracking, completely abandoning her refined etiquette. Her breathing turned ragged, her chest heaving violently with each desperate gasp, causing the soft, heavy swells of her mature breasts to strain against the tight fabric of her rustic tunic. "Why did you do this?! I am already here! I complied and walked into your fortress! I merely asked to discuss a way to change your humiliating condition! Why are you still torturing my brothers?!"
Shockingly, Zhang Tian remained completely silent. He stood leaning against the marble pillar, his posture entirely relaxed, as though he didn't care in the slightest about her furious, weeping outburst. He merely watched her agony with the mild, detached interest of a scholar observing an insect struggling in a web.
He offered no explanation. He offered no taunts.
A few agonizing, heavy minutes ticked by in the silent foyer, the only sound the ragged, desperate panting of Tang Yuehua.
Then, her device chimed again.
BEEP. BEEP.
Tang Yuehua flinched as if she had been struck. She looked down at the screen, her vision blurring with tears. More images were loading into the thread.
She opened the first new image. A fresh wave of nausea hit her so hard her knees buckled.
It was a photograph of Tang Hongyi. He was bound tightly to the dungeon wall by thick, glowing crimson vines. His abdomen had been brutally, surgically slit open from his sternum down to his groin. The image captured the horrifying, glistening sight of his own pale, bloody intestines falling out from within his ruptured stomach cavity, spilling messily onto his lap and the filthy floor.
Tang Yuehua clamped a hand over her mouth, a gagging sound escaping her throat. She felt an overwhelming, violent urge to puke.
But her thumb inadvertently swiped to the next image in the sequence.
The horror escalated beyond comprehension. The subsequent photograph showed those very same, severed, bloody intestines being violently, forcefully fed directly into Tang Hongyi's own screaming, wide-open mouth by the relentless crimson vines. His eyes were bulging with unimaginable, torturous agony.
The sheer, grotesque depravity of the scene broke her entirely.
Tang Yuehua dropped the jade slab onto the marble floor. She doubled over, clutching her stomach. The intense, blinding anger, the fathomless, crushing despair, and the incredibly heavy, suffocating guilt of knowing that her hesitation had caused this suffering overwhelmed her physical vessel.
She convulsed violently and puked a massive mouthful of dark, stagnant blood directly onto the pristine marble floor.
She collapsed onto her hands and knees, coughing and weeping uncontrollably. By this time, even if Tang Yuehua was the most foolish, naive woman on the continent, she would have understood the brutal, unforgiving reality of her situation.
This was Zhang Tian's silent, devastating response to her words attempting to discuss another condition. He didn't need to argue with her. He didn't need to threaten her verbally. Every single additional second she wasted trying to bargain, every moment she delayed obeying his initial, explicit command, he would simply inflict another layer of gruesome, unimaginable torture upon the three elders.
He didn't care about any classified information she had to offer. He didn't care about the secrets of Sea God Island or the movements of Tang Chen. Just as he had coldly told her five days ago over the communication tool... he cared nothing for anything the ruined Clear Sky Sect possessed, except for her beauty. And even that desire was not born because he was charmed or had fallen in love with her refined elegance. It was most likely because he just felt a dark, sudden impulse to have her, to degrade a prominent figure of his enemy's lineage for his own fleeting amusement.
She wiped her trembling mouth with the back of her sleeve, smearing the blood across her pale cheek. She forced herself to look up at him, restraining all her boiling unwillingness, her profound grief, and her burning hatred for this monster.
"I... I will go," Tang Yuehua spoke, her voice a broken, hollow whisper that echoed pitifully in the grand foyer. "I will immediately go upstairs. I will take a bath, and I will change into the clothes you have provided in the room. I will definitely not disobey you again." She bowed her head, fresh tears hitting the marble. "So please... can you please stop torturing them?"
Zhang Tian watched her broken submission. His expression relaxed slightly, the cold, serious edge leaving his features, replaced once again by that dark, entertained amusement.
"It might have been good for their health if you had been this obedient from the very start, Tang Yuehua," Zhang Tian told her casually, pushing himself off the pillar. He began to walk toward the main hallway leading to his private quarters. "Do not fret over spilled blood. I will heal those three back to their original, unbroken condition. After all... I do not want them to die suddenly from blood loss or shock. They are proving to be quite an entertaining diversion for my guards."
Tang Yuehua closed her eyes, a fresh wave of despair washing over her. His promise to heal them was not an act of mercy; it was the horrifying guarantee that their suffering could be prolonged indefinitely, their bodies repaired only to be broken again whenever he wished.
She didn't want to continue talking to Zhang Tian. She couldn't bear to look at his handsome, monstrous face for another second.
She pushed herself up from the floor, her legs trembling weakly. Leaving her heavy cloak and her dropped communication tool on the marble, she turned and walked stiffly toward the grand staircase. She ascended the steps like a woman marching to her own execution, following his precise directions until she reached the designated bedchamber on the first corridor.
The room was lavishly appointed, featuring a massive, circular bed, a roaring fireplace, and an adjoining, opulent bathing chamber constructed entirely of polished white jade.
Tang Yuehua walked mechanically into the bathroom. She stripped off her rustic, travel-stained garments, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. She stepped into the sunken, steaming bath, sinking beneath the hot, fragrant water. She grabbed a sponge and began to scrub her skin with frantic, desperate energy, trying to wash away the freezing grime of the journey, the dried blood from her chin, and the overwhelming, suffocating taint of her own guilt. She wept silently into the rising steam, mourning the crippling of Tang Boqin and the torture of Tang Hongyi, knowing her pride had caused their agony.
After a long, exhausting bath, the hot water finally eased the violent trembling in her muscles. She emerged from the bathroom, wrapping a plush towel around her damp, sky blue hair.
She walked into the main bedchamber, her eyes scanning the room.
Resting neatly upon the dark crimson silks of the massive bed was the clothing Zhang Tian had commanded her to wear.
As Tang Yuehua walked closer and examined the garments, she was profoundly shocked. A deep, mortifying flush of pure crimson instantly flooded her cheeks, traveling all the way down her neck. She felt that the design was entirely too bold, too scandalously revealing. She had spent her entire life studying fashion, noble attire, and cultural garments across the continent, yet she had never seen such a depraved, exposing design. Not even a lowly, desperate whore working in the cheapest brothels of the Star Luo capital would dare to wear a design that exposed their skin to such an obscene degree.
The outfit consisted of two distinct, highly intricate pieces, accompanied by a myriad of delicate jewelry.
The top bodice was a tight-fitting, heavily structured crop top explicitly designed to aggressively emphasize and push up the wearer's massive bust. It featured a deep, plunging V-neckline that created a significant, inescapable display of deep cleavage. The base fabric was a soft, luxurious ivory color with a subtle, luminescent sheen, entirely overlaid with intricate, swirling gold embroidery and rich, brocade-style patterns. It possessed short, structured cap sleeves that acted almost like decorative shoulder guards, edged with solid metallic gold trim, adding a bizarre touch of regal elegance to an otherwise scandalous garment. The most shocking aspect was the length; the top was cropped incredibly short, ending right beneath the bust, designed to leave her entire midriff, her waist, and her navel completely bare and exposed to the air.
The accompanying skirt was no less devastating to her modesty. It began with a highly structured, V-shaped waistband that dipped flatteringly low at the front of the hips. It was richly adorned with heavy gold filigree and centered with a large, teardrop-shaped blue sapphire jewel that would rest just below her bare navel. It was technically a floor-length, sweeping skirt, but its structure was entirely compromised by daringly high, double side slits. These massive slits extended all the way up to the very edge of the waistband, meaning that the moment she stood or took a single step, her thick, curvy thighs and the entire length of her full legs would be completely bare and exposed from the sides. The whitish fabric of the skirt draped beautifully, featuring shimmering, light-gold floral motifs woven directly into the material that seamlessly complemented the heavier gold detailing of the top. The edges of the high slits were also lined with a distinct, eye-catching gold border.
To tie the skimpy, highly revealing two-piece outfit together, there were delicate, intricate strings of silver beads and smaller sapphire jewels designed to drape elegantly across her exposed midriff, hanging down from the bottom edge of the structured bodice.
Tang Yuehua stared at the outfit, her hands shaking. It was the attire of an exotic, captive dancer, a garment designed purely to display a woman's body for the carnal consumption of a master.
She hated it. She despised the thought of putting it on.
However... she did not dare to rebel. She did not dare to refuse or go against Zhang Tian's explicit command. The horrific, bloody images of Tang Hongyi's disembowelment and Tang Boqin's severed arm burned vividly in her mind. She knew with absolute, terrifying certainty that if she walked out of this room wearing anything else, he would simply resume the gruesome torture of her sect members. He would humiliate them, break them further, and ultimately destroy the remaining dignity of the Clear Sky Sect.
She had to wear it. She had to be with that monster, even if she hated it with every fiber of her being.
With trembling, reluctant fingers, Tang Yuehua dropped her towel and began to dress herself.
The cold, structured fabric of the bodice clamped securely around her torso. As she fastened the clasps at the back, the tight garment aggressively lifted and pushed her large, mature breasts upward and together. The deep V-neckline framed a heavy, incredibly plush valley of cleavage that was impossible to ignore. The cold air of the bedchamber brushed against her entirely exposed midriff, making her shiver as she fastened the V-shaped waistband of the skirt around her hips. The heavy teardrop sapphire settled coolly against her lower stomach. She meticulously arranged the delicate body chains, the silver beads and sapphires cascading over her bare skin.
She turned to face the tall, gilded mirror standing in the corner of the room.
When she saw her reflection, she had to look away for a moment, her face burning with profound embarrassment. She looked incredibly, devastatingly sexy. The outfit accentuated her mature, womanly curves to a degree she had never thought possible. Her milky white, flawless skin glowed against the ivory and gold fabric. Her soft, voluptuous curves—her large, heavily displayed breasts, her slender, bare waist, and the wide, sweeping flare of her curvy hips visible through the high side slits—were truly, unashamedly shown off.
She looked like a goddess of seduction, a woman built entirely for sin.
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Tang Yuehua turned away from the mirror. She forced her bare feet to move, walking out of the bedchamber and down the long corridor toward the main living room, where she knew he was waiting for her. With every step she took, the long fabric of the skirt parted at the high slits, completely exposing the smooth, pale expanse of her thick thighs and legs.
She reached the open archway of the grand living room. She paused, preparing to swallow her pride and present herself.
But as her eyes adjusted to the warm, intimate lighting of the expansive room, the sight that greeted her caused her heart to stutter to a complete, shocked halt.
Zhang Tian was lounging comfortably upon a massive, plush velvet sofa in the center of the room. But he was not alone.
Straddling his lap, completely engrossed in an act of highly intense, uninhibited intimacy, was a stunningly beautiful, crimson-haired woman. The woman was wearing a thin, deep blue silken gown that clung desperately to her voluptuous curves, the sheer fabric turning nearly transparent against her damp skin. The gown had slipped dangerously off her shoulders, exposing her massive, heavy breasts as she rubbed her deep cleavage against his muscular chest, leaning down to smother his face with her soft flesh. Her hands were roaming wildly, desperately all over his broad shoulders and neck, tangling in his dark red hair. They were locked in a deep, wet, and highly passionate kiss, their tongues tangling audibly.
Zhang Tian's large hands were equally active, roaming freely all over the woman's voluptuous body, heavily kneading her curvy hips, squeezing her plush buttocks, and aggressively fondling her massive breasts as he kissed her back with dark, consuming hunger.
Tang Yuehua stood frozen in the archway, her jaw dropping slightly.
Despite the intense, distracting eroticism of the scene, her sharp eyes locked onto the woman's profile. She analyzed the facial structure, the elegant slope of the nose, the profound, mature aura radiating from her curvaceous form.
A bolt of pure, paralyzing shock shot through Tang Yuehua's mind. She recognized her.
It was her sister-in-law, Ah Yin. The former wife of her elder brother, Tang Hao.
Although Tang Yuehua knew from her Elder Brother Tang Hao that Ah Yin was miraculously alive and residing with Zhang Tian in the north, and she noted that as reported Ah Yin no longer possessed her gentle blue hair or the calming aura of the Blue Silver Emperor spirit—her hair and eyes had become a striking, vibrant crimson, radiating the metallic, imposing presence of the Blood Silver Empress—the core identity of the woman was undeniable.
Tang Yuehua had always, firmly assumed that Ah Yin's presence in the north was the result of some complex, forced cooperative relationship between her and Zhang Tian. She had desperately rationalized that Ah Yin must have developed some deep, tragic misunderstanding about her Elder Brother Tang Hao's actions during the fateful battle with the Spirit Hall decades ago, and was being manipulated or coerced by the northern Marquis for political leverage against the Clear Sky Sect.
But seeing this deeply intimate, raw scene playing out right before her eyes today, Tang Yuehua knew instantly that her assumptions were entirely, foolishly wrong.
Ah Yin was Zhang Tian's woman. Moreover... it wasn't a forced, miserable captivity. The way Ah Yin moved her hips, the desperate, hungry way she kissed him back, the soft, blissful moans escaping her lips—it was an undeniable display of intense, passionate, and deeply mutual love between the two of them.
The realization shattered the foundational legends of her family. The tragic, undying romance of Tang Hao and the Blue Silver Emperor was nothing more than a hollow memory. Ah Yin had completely moved on, surrendering her heart and her magnificent body to the very monster seeking to destroy their lineage.
Sensing the shift in the room's atmosphere, Ah Yin slowly broke the deep kiss. She pulled back slightly, her chest heaving, a thin string of saliva connecting her lips to Zhang Tian's for a fleeting second.
She turned her head gracefully, her vibrant crimson eyes locking directly onto Tang Yuehua standing frozen in the archway.
A deeply amused, highly venomous, and strikingly beautiful smile spread slowly across the Blood Silver Empress's face. She did not look ashamed to be caught riding a man's lap; she looked triumphant.
"Sister Yuehua," Ah Yin spoke, her melodic voice carrying a smooth, teasing lilt that echoed clearly across the quiet living room. She casually brushed a lock of crimson hair behind her ear, leaning her weight comfortably against Zhang Tian's broad chest. "You really do possess a great, breathtaking beauty. Seeing you in that delicate attire... it is truly no wonder my husband was completely unable to contain himself from wanting you here."
Tang Yuehua flinched at the casual, possessive use of the word 'husband'. She opened her mouth to speak, to demand answers, but her voice failed her.
Ah Yin did not wait for a response. She shifted her curvy hips upon Zhang Tian's lap, securing a more comfortable position, and continued her dark, nostalgic reflection.
"I never imagined a day like this would come," Ah Yin murmured, a cruel, reflective light dancing in her crimson eyes. "The last time the two of us saw each other in person, it was more than twenty years ago. At that time, I was still that foolish, incredibly idiotic, and naive wife of that hypocritical coward, Tang Hao. And you... you were merely my sweet, respectable little sister-in-law."
Ah Yin let out a soft, mocking laugh, her hands resting possessively on Zhang Tian's shoulders.
"At that time, if someone had told us the future, no one in the world could have ever imagined that the two of us would one day serve the exact same man together," Ah Yin declared, her tone dripping with dark, poetic irony. "That the wife and the sister of the great Clear Sky Douluo would be brought low to entertain the same man who was born as a commoner with just a weak Martial Spirit."
Tang Yuehua's hands balled into tight fists at her sides, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms. The humiliation of her skimpy, exposing outfit was suddenly eclipsed by the profound, psychological torture of Ah Yin's words.
"But I must confess, Sister Yuehua," Ah Yin continued, her smile widening into an expression of pure, unadulterated delight. "I am truly, profoundly delighted to see this. After all, dealing with that arrogant, hypocritical family of that pathetic Tang Hao has made me very excited."
Ah Yin leaned forward, her massive breasts pressing heavily against Zhang Tian's chest, her crimson eyes burning into Tang Yuehua's trembling form.
"Watching my husband systematically tear down your sect's pride, and watching him corrupt this pure, noble beauty of yours tonight..." Ah Yin whispered, her voice a sultry, venomous promise that hung heavy in the opulent room. "It really will be very entertaining."
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels [Villain: Manipulating The Heroines Into Hating The Protagonist] and [Harem Master: Seduction System].
Also, check out 20 Chapters Ahead for this fanfic on my P.atreon. [Check Out Art Of Characters On My Patreon. It's Free To View btw.]
Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/c/evildragon04