Chapter 48: Puppet

For ten days, his face had grown gaunt and hollow.

His cheekbones protruded slightly, his eye sockets were sunken, his lips were chapped, and a blue-black stubble had sprouted on his chin.

His beautiful hair was splayed messily on the dirty ground, having lost its former luster.

A few strands clung to his sweaty forehead, appearing disheveled and helpless.

That usually coldly handsome face now bore an unnatural flush.

His thick eyelashes held droplets of moisture, sticking together.

The lively sparkle of his eyes had been replaced by a vacant stare, making him look exceptionally haggard.

His back was covered in overlapping bruises, kiss marks, bite marks, and scratches, silently declaring what had transpired over these ten days.

The cloud-patterned brocade robe was no longer recognizable in its original color.

The collar was completely torn open, and the hem was messily bunched up around his waist.

Most humiliating of all was his posture.

To facilitate her viewing and play, Chao’er had used a flexible restraint to lock his joints.

His legs were forced wide open, presenting an utterly… and completely uncloseable position.

His hands were bound behind his back, his head forced to tilt back, exposing his fragile, slender neck.

His eyes were lifeless, his pupils unfocused. His once clear and handsome face was now pale as paper, with tear stains still clinging to the corners of his eyes.

Even the corner of his mouth held a trace of saliva that had overflowed from overexertion.

He looked exactly like a doll that had been thoroughly used and then carelessly discarded, or like a flower that had been ravaged by a violent storm for too long, finally withering and shattering, having exhausted even the last bit of strength to maintain dignity.

Looking at Chao’er, ten days and nights of obsessive entanglement and possession had left little trace of fatigue on her face.

Instead, nourished by demonic qi and sated with desire, she was radiant, her skin glowing.

When her eyes moved, the dark purple light within them was even more intense, exuding a bewitching, startling beauty.

She brushed aside the sweat-drenched bangs stuck to Shen Mo’s forehead and skin.

Her fingertip slid downward inch by inch.

Following his cheek down to the corner of his mouth that had been bitten and broken.

It lingered on his chapped lips, the pad of her finger rubbing against them extremely slowly, with a touch of lingering affection.

“So beautiful…”

Her voice was no longer the soft, clear one from usual days, but carried a husky, magnetic quality.

“Master’s Husband, look… this is your true form.”

Shen Mo’s body spasmed instinctively at her touch.

A broken sob escaped his throat, but he couldn’t form a complete syllable.

His vocal cords had been damaged during the previous intensity, and now he could only produce breathy sounds.

Chao’er greatly enjoyed his helplessness.

Her fingers slid down Shen Mo’s neck.

Her fingertip circled maliciously over his prominent Adam’s apple.

“Before, you always dressed so neatly, buttoned up to the very top, bowing your head in greeting to everyone, your mouth full of talk about Husbandly Virtue.”

Chao’er let out a light laugh, her fingers suddenly pressing down, her nails sinking into the soft flesh of Shen Mo’s chest.

“But Master’s Husband, your body is clearly much more honest than your mouth.”

He looked at this child he had raised with his own hands, his gaze complex.

He had taught her to read, taught her to practice the sword, taught her to distinguish right from wrong.

Now, this most accomplished disciple’s eyes were filled with the ambition to devour him, skin and bones.

“Master’s Husband,” she said, as if speaking to him, yet also as if talking to herself. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?”

Shen Mo did not respond.

Chao’er didn’t need his response either.

She just continued speaking, her voice light and soft, just like when she used to pay her respects to him.

“Seven years. I thought of you every single day,” she said. “Your voice, your appearance, every word you ever said to me. The warmth of your fingers when you combed my hair, the concern in your eyes when you watched me practice, how beautiful your smile was on those rare occasions you smiled at me.”

“But I never dared to touch you,” her voice suddenly dropped low. “Never dared.”

“I was afraid that if I touched you, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I was afraid you would hate me, afraid you would avoid me, afraid you would look at me again with that gaze reserved for a disciple—but I knew, you always looked at me that way. A disciple. Just a disciple.”

Her eyes grew slightly red.

“So I endured. I suppressed all my thoughts deep in my heart. I told myself, as long as I could be by your side, as long as I could see you every day, it was enough.”

She paused.

“But now, I don’t have to endure anymore.”

She lowered her head, placing a light kiss on his lips. The crimson in her eyes slowly faded.

Ten days of madness, ten days of taking, ten days of possession had finally almost exhausted her lust.

The suffocating demonic qi dissipated completely.

Chao’er blinked somewhat dazedly.

Her features, twisted by the inner demon, gradually relaxed, returning to the innocent and clear look belonging to a girl of seventeen or eighteen.

She looked at her own hands. Her fingertips seemed to still retain a slippery sensation, and… the lingering feel of Master’s Husband’s body.

She looked around. Seeing this unfamiliar, gloomy valley and the chaotic traces on the ground, her brow furrowed slightly.

‘How did we get here?’

‘What happened?’

‘Where is this place?’

‘Wasn’t I just carried by Master’s Husband after being severely injured coming out of the Secret Realm?’

‘How did we end up here?’

‘And… my body feels so strange. There’s an indescribable, unfamiliar soreness and… a feeling of fullness?’

‘There’s also a lingering, heart-palpitating fatigue, and a dull ache coming from deep within my soul.’

Her gaze fell to her side.

The person sprawled on the rock, posture twisted, clothes torn, body covered in various terrifying marks, eyes empty and lifeless, breath so faint it seemed it might vanish the next second…

It was Master’s Husband.

Not the Master’s Husband from her memory, who was always gentle and neat, forcing himself to stay alert even when exhausted.

The Master’s Husband before her eyes was like a jade bamboo that had been completely broken by the most violent storm, every inch of exposed skin telling of unbearable abuse.

Chao’er lowered her head, her gaze falling on Shen Mo.

A strange sense of satisfaction, not yet fully faded, was replaced by greater confusion.

She crouched down, wanting to take Shen Mo’s hand as usual, wanting to help him up.

“Master’s Husband, the ground is cold. Let me help you up…”

Shen Mo shuddered violently, desperately shrinking back.

Because his limbs were weak, he could only use his elbows to prop himself up, dragging his body backward in a wretched manner until his back slammed heavily against the rough trunk of a tree with a dull thud.

“Don’t touch me… Chao’er… don’t touch me…”

She froze in place, her hand suspended in mid-air.

‘Why is he avoiding me?’

‘Why is he looking at me with that gaze, as if looking at a monster, a criminal?’

‘I’m Chao’er. I’m your most beloved disciple, the Chao’er you raised with your own hands!’

In that instant, it was as if a thunderclap exploded deep within her mind.

Boom—!

The memories sealed by the demonic qi burst forth like a broken dam, carrying a stench of blood and filth, instantly overwhelming her reason.

—It was her who had sealed the exit of this valley with magic.

—It was her who had forcibly taken Master’s Husband.

—It was her who, over these ten days, had demanded again and again, ignoring whether Master’s Husband’s body could endure, even forcing him into various shameful postures, forcing him to call out her name.

Chao’er looked at her own hands, stained with filth that could not be washed clean.