Adrian pinched Nan Xiang's nipple viciously between his two fingers, twisting the flesh with crushing force. "These tits need to be stretched out a bit bigger... and then we're going to punch a couple of holes right through them."
"Ah—!"
The sudden, stabbing agony forced a sharp shriek from Nan Xiang's throat. Even if a woman's nipples aren't quite as hyper-sensitive as her clitoris, they are still a delicate nerve center; even a hardened criminal wouldn't be able to bear such brutal squeezing without cracking.
Adrian looked down at her tear-filled eyes and offered a dark smile. "What's the matter, slut? Does it hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt! It doesn't hurt in the slightest, Master!" Nan Xiang lied instantly, a fragile, obsequious smile forcing its way onto her face as she rapidly shook her head to deny the pain.
Unmoved by her desperate attempts to play the submissive pet, Adrian continued to roll the crushed nipple between his fingers. "Tell me then... would you prefer I hang heavy silver bells from them, or thick gold rings?"
If this were any ordinary man, seeing a legendary beauty bowing so pathetically low and begging for mercy would have triggered a wave of masculine compassion, prompting him to pull her into his arms to comfort her. Unfortunately, Adrian had utterly despised these women when he watched Tiny Times in his previous life. Even Qu Xiaoxiao, the most insufferable, chaotic rich girl in Ode to Joy, was infinitely more tolerable than the toxic, melodramatic squad from Tiny Times.
Whether it was Nan Xiang, Lin Xiao, or Gu Li, these three hypocrites proudly claimed to prioritize pure, unadulterated love above all else, but in reality, all they truly hungered for was material excess, designer vanity, and a life of absolute luxury. There was absolutely nothing wrong with loving money; in this modern jungle, everyone was driven by raw profit, and chasing wealth was entirely acceptable. But when you preach pure emotional martyrdom while greedily sucking down high-society capital, all while putting on a pretentious display of artistic righteousness, you deserve to be broken.
From the exact moment Adrian had reviewed the System's target list, he had already engineered the absolute perfect, degrading destinations for all three of them.
"This servant... this servant would vastly prefer the rings, Master!" Nan Xiang forced the words out of her throat, her mind flashing back to the extreme, underground BDSM pornography she had secretly browsed during her university years.
Based on her newly acquired, terrifying understanding of the billionaire, whatever heavy ornaments he decided to anchor through her flesh would absolutely never be permitted to come off. Compared to wearing two loud, obnoxious bells that would jingle comically with every single step she took around the manor, solid gold nipple rings were an infinitely more bearable humiliation.
"I will have the maids arrange the piercing needles the second we return to the estate," Adrian stated indifferently, finally releasing his crushing grip on her bruised flesh.
"Thank you for your supreme grace, Master!" Nan Xiang quickly kowtowed, her voice trembling.
Although her core was flooded with a toxic, black ocean of hatred, she absolutely did not dare to allow a single microsecond of defiance to manifest on her face or in her movements. She was trapped in the exact same psychological horror as the corrupt imperial officials of ancient history; fully aware that the Emperor had just signed their execution warrants, they were still forced to violently kowtow and scream, "Long live the Emperor!" Because in the grand ledger of history, the only stubborn intellectuals who ever dared to express their genuine, unyielding defiance had already provided the world with a perfect, blood-soaked warning—ending up brutally sliced in half at the waist while their entire nine generations were systematically exterminated.
"Alright. Get off your knees and help me change into my gear," Adrian instructed, standing up from the plush leather sofa.
"Young Master... would you perhaps allow this servant to release your physical tension before you begin training?" Nan Xiang asked ingratiatingly, her eyes locking onto the massive, throbbing erection that was already straining against the fabric of his trousers.
"Kneel."
In direct response to her desperate attempt to please him, Adrian handed down the absolute, freezing order.
Nan Xiang dropped right back onto her knees without a word, opening her wet, trembling mouth to swallow the massive, purplish-black head of his cock.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
Adrian mercilessly whipped his thick, heavy shaft across her face four times in rapid succession, the heavy impacts causing the beautiful girl's face to freeze in absolute, stunned shock.
"If you ever possess the audacity to take the initiative or act on your own accord again, I won't just slap your pretty face with my dick. Do you understand me, slut?" Adrian growled.
After violently resetting her boundaries with his cock, Adrian finally felt a wave of exhilarating satisfaction wash over his chest. He had to admit: slapping a woman's face with a hard cock—especially the breathtaking, untouchable face of a high-society goddess like Nan Xiang—was a profoundly addictive source of dominance.
"This servant fully understands her error! Please forgive my insolence!"
Although Nan Xiang had absolutely no idea what psychological landmine she had just stepped on, it was painfully clear the billionaire had zero intention of explaining his logic. She could only stammer out her terrified apologies while trembling with trepidation.
"Get up. Fix my clothes."
With Nan Xiang's submissive assistance, Adrian quickly stripped out of his casual attire and pulled on his form-fitting, breathable combat gear. He commanded the naked girl to remain locked inside the observation room before leisurely stepping out onto the main training floor.
Hu Yifei was currently in the center of the ring, executing a series of high-intensity, fluid combat strikes. Although the private facility was stocked with top-tier equipment, conditioning alone was an incredibly monotonous chore.
"Yifei. You seem to be putting in serious work," Adrian greeted smoothly, pushing open the heavy glass door.
Crack!
Hu Yifei delivered a lightning-fast, horizontal palm strike directly into the core of the heavy paulownia wood dummy, the violent impact splitting the dense timber and leaving a clear, two-centimeter-deep imprint of her palm in the wood. If that horrific strike were to connect with a normal civilian's ribcage, it would instantly shatter their bones and rupture their internal organs; if the target was unlucky, it would trigger instant death.
"Hey! Landlord, you finally decided to show up!" Yifei panted, wiping the sweat from her brow. She gestured at the splintered wood with an annoyed scoff. "I have to say, this particular dummy is surprisingly durable. The cheap models at the local university gyms always shatter into toothpicks the second I throw a serious combination. And then those damn owners always try to threaten me with property damage lawsuits! It is absolutely outrageous. Don't you agree, Landlord?"
Yifei was fully aware that Adrian Li was an obscenely wealthy magnate—a man so deeply rooted in capital that he essentially possessed no financial peers. Because of that, she felt entirely liberated to unleash her absolute, unrestricted power without worrying about breaking his toys. After all, given the explosive lethality of her martial arts, finding a facility that could withstand her training was an impossible nightmare.
Since ancient times, the proverbs had always declared: The impoverished study literature to pass exams, while the wealthy study martial arts to rule. Cultivating true, lethal combat prowess was an obscenely expensive endeavor. Admittedly, Hu Yifei occupied a high-income, high-status position as a university professor in Shanghai, but her standard academic salary couldn't naturally fund the catastrophic cost of her martial arts consumption. Breaking a multi-thousand-yuan wooden dummy with a single combination? Who could possibly afford to maintain that?
"There is zero evolutionary benefit to beating on a dead piece of timber," Adrian shrugged indifferently, stepping onto the mats. "Why don't the two of us skip the warm-up and continue our spar from the other day?"
"Oh, come on, Landlord," Yifei laughed, waving her hand dismissively as she adjusted her hand wraps. "I didn't even unleash half of my actual power back at the apartment bar. Now that I am fully warmed up and in combat mode, it wouldn't be good if I accidentally put you in the intensive care unit!"
"What's the matter, Yifei? Are you actually running away and rejecting a direct challenge?" Adrian smirked, deploying a calculated, teasing tone. He knew her hyper-competitive Achilles' heel with absolute certainty.
"A challenge?"
Yifei's eyebrows instantly shot up, a dangerous, competitive fire igniting in her eyes. The one thing she could never tolerate in this life was being publicly provoked or looked down upon. The landlord had explicitly deployed the word challenge, and there was absolutely zero chance she was going to back down now.
"You asked for it, Landlord!"
Adrian didn't waste his breath with further taunts. He fluidly dropped his weight, stepping his lead foot forward into a flawless, lethal combat stance.
"Then you had better brace yourself!" Yifei roared, her knuckles cracking as she surged forward, completely holding nothing back as she launched herself at the billionaire!
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Give me powerstones.
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