The next morning.
Wuhun City, Papal Palace.
As dawn broke, the guards on duty in the outer corridors of the palace had already been rotated. The towering palace cast long shadows in the morning light, and a heavy, oppressive atmosphere filled the air.
The doors to the Pope's bedroom were tightly shut, and two of Bibidon's maids waited outside, not daring to breathe.
Inside the hall.
Bibi Dong slowly opened her eyes.
She has always been a very light sleeper; at her level of cultivation, she only needs two or three hours of rest each day.
But she slept exceptionally soundly last night, perhaps because she had played so much.
She turned slightly to the side, her gaze falling on the spot beside her.
A middle-aged man was huddled there.
Yu Xiaogang's entire body is covered in sores, not an inch of it is unscathed.
The dense bruises spread from his neck to his ankles, some of the crisscrossing whip marks had scabbed over, while others were still oozing blood.
His lips were pale, his cheeks were deeply sunken, and he was so thin that the word "emaciated" couldn't even describe him.
He was tightly bound with special hemp rope and leather belt, leaving deep purple marks on his wrists and ankles.
Yu Xiaogang, though in a deep sleep, had a furrowed brow and his lips twitched occasionally, indicating that he was not sleeping soundly.
Bibi Dong stared at him for a few moments.
Her gaze swept from top to bottom, finally settling on a spot below his body.
The light in his eyes instantly turned cold.
At the beginning, Yu Xiaogang still had a little energy left.
But it only lasted for two or three seconds before it completely withered.
Two or three seconds.
When Bibi Dong thought of this number, an indescribable sense of unease welled up in her heart.
She tried all sorts of methods—tonics, pills, and even some medicinal herbs treasured by the Spirit Hall—but nothing worked.
A man who broke through to fifty years old with only twenty-nine levels of soul power already had his physical functions declining.
Moreover, Yu Xiaogang seems to have suffered severe psychological trauma after his first time, and has never recovered since.
In the end, Bibi Dong completely gave up the idea of being with him and chose to seek pleasure on her own.
Before nightfall, Yu Xiaogang ceases to be human; he becomes merely a tool, a shameless dog for Bibi Dong to vent her years of suppressed resentment, humiliation, and morbid desires.
Whip, rope, candle.
Bibi Dong used every means she could think of.
Yu Xiaogang has cried, shouted, and begged for mercy.
But Bibi Dong wouldn't stop. She even felt more satisfied watching Yu Xiaogang wail and struggle at her feet than when he gently called her "Dong'er" back then.
Bibi Dong raised her hand, her slender, fair fingertips gently stroking Yu Xiaogang's rough, cracked face.
The touch made Yu Xiaogang, who was in a deep sleep, shudder violently.
His eyelids twitched, and he barely managed to open them a crack.
Then, his pupils suddenly dilated.
Having held my urine all night, I lost control of it in that instant.
Warm, yellowish liquid spread from beneath him, soaking the brocade quilt and leaving a large, dark stain on the silk fabric.
Yu Xiaogang froze.
His face turned pale, then flushed; his lips trembled, and his voice was hoarse: "Dong...Dong'er...I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to...It's all your fault for not letting me relieve myself..."
"Shut up!"
Bibi Dong's voice was flat, but when those two words fell, Yu Xiaogang felt as if his throat was being choked, and he choked back all the words that followed.
Bibi Dong's facial features contorted for a moment.
nausea!
In a flash, she disappeared from the bed and landed on the ground three steps away.
She glanced down at the hem of her nightgown; thankfully, she reacted quickly and didn't get any stains.
Then, Bibi Dong turned around and picked up the long whip that was placed on the bedside shelf.
It was a specially made leather whip, with fine barbs wrapped around the blade. Each lash would tear off a piece of flesh.
"Dong'er...no...I really didn't mean to..." Yu Xiaogang's voice trembled. He wanted to run away, but the ropes bound him tightly, and he couldn't move at all.
Bibi Dong didn't speak, but the whip in her hand fell down.
A crisp sound.
"Awooo—!"
Yu Xiaogang let out a shrill wail as his body arched up, only to be pulled back by the rope, leaving a new bloody welt on his back.
The second lash, the third lash, the fourth lash.
Each strike landed precisely next to the previous whip marks, without overlapping, with even spacing; Bibi Dong was adept at this.
Yu Xiaogang's howls grew increasingly shrill, but gradually changed tone towards the end.
Besides the pain, there was a faint, almost imperceptible... pleasure mixed in with that sound.
His eyes began to roll upwards, and his breathing became rapid and erratic.
The ropes binding him creaked and groaned, but they weren't struggling to break free; rather, they were trembling slightly in rhythm with the movement.
Then--
A foul stench emanated from beneath him.
Bibi Dong's whip stopped in mid-air.
She looked down.
Yu Xiaogang, who had been holding in his feces all night, unconsciously vomited it out under this intense stimulation.
Yellowish-brown excrement mixed with urine spread across the brocade quilt.
The smell quickly filled the enclosed bedroom.
Bibi Dong's face darkened completely.
She threw the whip on the ground and took two steps back.
After a while.
Yu Xiaogang lay in the filth mixed with excrement and urine, his eyes rolled back, a trace of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth, his expression both painful and dazed, looking exactly like someone who had been thoroughly violated.
Bibi Dong covered her nose with one hand and used her soul power with the other to cut the ropes binding Yu Xiaogang from a distance.
She simply put on an outer robe and walked towards the palace gate without looking back.
Just before leaving, she stopped and said coldly, "Throw the bed out and replace it with a new one. Clean the floor, the walls, every corner thoroughly, until it's spotless!"
"If you can't do it before I get back... hmph."
The bedroom door was pushed open, and Bibi Dong's figure disappeared into the morning light.
Inside the hall, only Yu Xiaogang remained.
He lay in that filth for a long time before he could catch his breath.
Then, he propped himself up on his limp arms and shakily climbed off the bed.
The moment his foot touched the ground, his knee bent, and he fell flat on his backside.
He steadied himself by holding onto the edge of the bed and looked down at the terrible state of his body.
Covered in wounds, smeared with excrement and urine, and emitting an unbearable stench.
A "master" in the field of martial spirit theory, a person who should be revered by students, is now in this state.
Yu Xiaogang's lips moved slightly.
But he still bent down blankly and began to tidy up the bed that was soaked in filth.
The maids outside the door smelled the odor, looked at each other, and none of them dared to push the door open and go in.
They had some guesses about what happened in the palace every night, but no one dared to speak.
In the Papal Palace, there are some things that, if you know them, will shorten your lifespan.
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(End of chapter)