Her gaze was like stripping Shen Mo’s clothes—layer by layer, seeking not only to remove his outer robe but also to peel away the layer of skin called dignity.
“Master’s Husband, since you love being conquered by the strong so much,” Lin Jingzhe’s lips curled into a cruel arc, “then what if it’s me?”
“What if I, a junior, did things to you in this deserted place that… Master usually wouldn’t do?”
“Will you resist?”
“Or rather…”
She took a step forward, completely blocking Shen Mo’s path and pinning him against the trunk of a large tree.
“…will you kneel and beg me, just like you did with Qin Shuying?”
Shen Mo’s back pressed tightly against the rough bark. Through the thin fabric of his clothes, he could feel the coldness of the wood behind him and the heat of the young girl’s body pressing against his front.
He looked into the depths of Lin Jingzhe’s eyes and saw a near-manic desire for destruction.
She wasn’t doing this out of lust.
She simply wanted to tear him apart.
To prove that he was a wretch.
Shen Mo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the mask of submissiveness cracked, revealing a deep, bottomless pool of darkness within.
“Lin Jingzhe,” he whispered her name. His voice no longer trembled; instead, it carried an eerie calmness. “Aren’t you afraid of playing with fire and getting burned?”
Lin Jingzhe arched an eyebrow.
“Playing with fire?”
She suddenly burst into laughter. The sound echoed by the empty Cold Pool, startling a flock of birds into the air.
“Master’s Husband, have you misunderstood something?”
She suddenly drew her sword.
The frost-white blade didn’t pierce Shen Mo. Instead, with a sharp cling, it buried itself three inches deep into the tree trunk beside his ear.
The Sword Qi sliced through a single lock of Shen Mo’s hair, letting it drift slowly to the ground.
Lin Jingzhe gripped the hilt and leaned forward, trapping Shen Mo completely between herself and the tree. Her face wore an expression of almost twisted excitement.
“In this world, only the strong get to play with fire.”
“And you,” her gaze swept over Shen Mo’s chest, which rose and fell slightly from tension, and then over his reddened eyes, as if she were looking at a toy about to be dismantled, “are merely the fuel.”
“Now, tell me.”
“What did Qin Shuying do to you that day in the Quiet Room?”
“Was it like this…”
Her hand slid down the tree trunk and landed on Shen Mo’s waist. Through the fabric, she gave him a harsh pinch.
“…or like this?”
Shen Mo let out a muffled groan, and the corners of his eyes instantly turned red.
He wasn’t faking it.
It truly hurt.
However, he did not beg for mercy.
He stared intently at Lin Jingzhe. Suddenly, a strange, viscous light appeared in his eyes—one that felt foreign to her.
Was it some kind of… resonance?
Or was it that something deeper, hidden in the sludge, had been stirred up?
“You want to know?”
Shen Mo suddenly smiled.
The smile was faint, but it was like a poisonous flower blooming on the edge of a cliff, carrying a fatal temptation.
He tilted his head back slightly, the long line of his neck forming a fragile and beautiful curve as he leaned closer to Lin Jingzhe’s face.
Their noses nearly touched.
Their breaths intertwined.
“Then you’ll have to come in and see for yourself.”
Lin Jingzhe’s pupils constricted.
She felt a jolt of electricity surge up her spine.
It wasn’t because of how suggestive the words were.
It was because of the look in Shen Mo’s eyes.
There was no fear in that gaze, no shame—only a type of mockery… a temptation from someone who had long since grown used to the darkness.
It was as if he were saying: Come on then, tear apart your so-called justice and morality. Let me see if you’re just as rotten as I am at your core.
It was a silent provocation.
It was also an invitation to fall.
Lin Jingzhe’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her sword.
She suddenly realized she had thought she was playing a game of cat and mouse.
But now…
It seemed this mouse might be waiting with its mouth open, watching to see if the cat would fall into the trap.
“Fine.”
Lin Jingzhe spat the word through gritted teeth.
“Very well.”
She yanked her sword out and threw it behind her. It hit the ground with a crisp metallic clang.
Then, she grabbed Shen Mo’s collar with both hands and ripped it downward.
Tear!
The sound of fabric ripping was exceptionally piercing in the silent night.
Shen Mo’s pale collarbones and a large portion of his chest were exposed to the cold air.
But he didn’t cover himself.
He simply used those bottomless black eyes to watch Lin Jingzhe quietly, as if he were watching a play whose ending had already been written.
“Master’s Husband,” Lin Jingzhe’s breathing became heavy, and a genuine, provoked redness bled into her eyes, “don’t you regret this.”
Shen Mo looked at her, the smile on his lips deepening until it became unsettling.
“As for who will regret it…” he whispered, his fingers slowly climbing up Lin Jingzhe’s shoulders. His fingertips were icy, yet they carried a trembling heat. “…that isn’t certain yet.”
….
The wind grew stronger.
It blew the shadows of the trees into a frenzy, like countless ghostly hands waving in the air.
Lin Jingzhe’s hand didn’t move further down. Instead, it stopped one inch above Shen Mo’s collarbone.
It was an extremely ambiguous and dangerous distance.
A fraction lower, and skin would touch; an inch forward, and morality would collapse.
But she stopped.
She was waiting.
Waiting for Shen Mo to beg for mercy, waiting for him to panic, waiting for him to tremble like a lowly servant while unbuttoning his own clothes and offering his body to seek forgiveness.
If he did that, Lin Jingzhe would stop immediately. She would look at him with the most contemptuous gaze, call him a wretch, and let the matter rot in her heart—or use it as leverage to make him a submissive dog on Jiaoyue Peak from then on.
That was her true goal.
To destroy his self-respect, not to possess his body.
After all, this body belonged to her Master, Su Wan’er. No matter how rebellious she was or how much she looked down on this “stepfather,” she wouldn’t truly touch her Master’s exclusive property.
That would be a great disrespect, an incestuous act that would break her Master’s heart.
She only wanted to tear open this layer of virtuous skin to see if the meat inside was rotten.
However, Shen Mo’s reaction defied her expectations once again.
He didn’t shake, and he didn’t beg.
He didn’t even try to pull up his torn collar. He simply left his chest exposed, letting the cold night wind blow across his pale skin and incite small shivers.
He looked up. Those eyes, usually as gentle as water, were now like a bottomless ancient well, faintly reflecting Lin Jingzhe’s stunned face.
“Is this all you’re capable of?”
Shen Mo’s voice was very soft, carrying a trace of imperceptible raspiness, yet it felt like a slap delivered hard across Lin Jingzhe’s face.
Lin Jingzhe’s brow furrowed sharply. “What did you say?”
“I said,” Shen Mo pushed his chest forward slightly, leaning into Lin Jingzhe’s fingers with a resolve that welcomed death, yet also possessed a strange composure, “you don’t actually dare to do anything, do you?”
Lin Jingzhe’s pupils shrank.
Shen Mo looked at her, his lips curling into a faint mockery—the kind that only someone who had also crawled through the mud could understand.
“You brought me here, claiming it was for the Cold Marrow, but it was actually for Su Wan’er.”
“You’re afraid I’ll be unfaithful to her. You’re afraid I’ll ruin her reputation. You’re afraid I’m just a useless waste who only knows how to climb into beds.”
“You want to prove I’m a wretch so you can loathe me with a clear conscience, and even… clean house on Su Wan’er’s behalf.”
Shen Mo’s gaze moved past Lin Jingzhe’s shoulder, looking toward the pitch-black surface of the lake in the distance. His tone became as airy as if he were telling someone else’s story.
“But you won’t actually touch me. Because in your heart, Su Wan’er is more important than anything. You were raised by her, she taught you the sword, and she gave you your life. You’re more afraid of her being heartbroken than anyone.”
“So, you can only act like an overgrown child, using these frightening little tricks to test my bottom line.”
“Lin Jingzhe, in truth… you’re very afraid that I really am a bad person, aren’t you?”
“Because if I am a bad person, then Su Wan’er’s judgment was wrong. And the one thing you cannot accept is Su Wan’er being mistaken.”
Every word was like a needle, accurately stabbing into the most hidden corners of Lin Jingzhe’s heart.
Lin Jingzhe’s face instantly turned ashen.
The shame of being seen through and the resulting rage were more intense than if Shen Mo had slapped her.
She truly didn’t dare.
She truly was “inspecting the goods” on her Master’s behalf.
She truly held her Master in higher regard than the heavens.
But that didn’t mean she would tolerate this man critiquing her with that condescending tone, as if he had seen through everything!
“SHUT UP!”
Lin Jingzhe screamed, and the Sword Qi in her hand exploded!