Chapter 221: Shameless

Chapter 221: Shameless

Fu Province, Yue City.

The current patriarch of the Zhu clan was a dashing, handsome man, past forty, with phoenix eyes, silkworm undereye folds, thick brows, thin lips, and a jaw-framing beard that exuded the distinct charm of a mature man.

A man of this caliber need only walk a lap through a nightclub to reel in a bevy of young, beautiful women.

In the brightly lit council hall, the atmosphere was heavy.

Zhu Yangqiu lifted his teacup, gently blowing on the scalding tea, took a sip, and gazed across the table at the one man and one dog.

The man was a human; the dog, a Teddy.

The man was burly, crew-cut, his gaze sharp as a blade, his face stern, unsmiling.

His Lingjing ID was "Great Tang War God"; he was one of the Four Great Elders of the Five Elements Alliance's Fu Province Branch, affiliated with the White Tiger Forces.

The Teddy, meanwhile, was the Dog Elder of the Songhai Branch, affiliated with the Hundred Flowers Society.

Aside from the two men and one dog, there was one other person in the council hall—precisely Zhu Rong, plump and lush as a peony.

The Crew-cut War God—no, the Great Tang War God—stroked two leaf fragments translucent as rubies between his fingertips, while the Dog Elder lowered his head to sniff the medicine mortar before him.

The Great Tang War God spoke in a deep voice:

"Are they all here?"

His voice seemed to carry a magic that compelled obedience.

Zhu Rong bit down on her teeth, nodding unwillingly.

The Great Tang War God looked to the Dog Elder, who gave a slight nod in return.

In Qingsongzi's confession, the leaves condensed from the Primordial Heavenly Venerate's blood totaled three; Zhu Rong had used one, leaving two remaining—the count matched.

The Great Tang War God then asked:

"What was your purpose in cursing the Primordial Heavenly Venerate?"

At those words, under the bright glare of the lights, a trace of morbid longing flashed across Zhu Rong's bewitching face:

"To break him, defile him, let him sink into the abyss of desire, become my plaything, forever obedient to me."

Watching Zhu Rong grow more excited with every word, her face a mask of morbidity, the Dog Elder and the Great Tang War God fell involuntarily silent.

This woman's psyche is utterly twisted... The Dog Elder shook his head slightly; before coming, he had heard some hidden gossip from the Great Tang War God.

This young lady of the Zhu clan, though her conduct was willful and domineering, had never been so notorious as now—until years ago, she rallied companions to besiege the Demon Lord, only to vanish without return.

A month later, she returned to the Zhu clan alone; ever since, her temperament had changed drastically, her behavior growing increasingly dissolute, and she began keeping male lovers.

Eventually, she simply divorced her husband, Chi Yue'an.

What Zhu Rong endured that month, anyone familiar with the Demon Lord's methods could easily guess.

The Great Tang War God's stern face darkened with anger as he said:

"Has the Five Elements Alliance been too friendly with you Lingjing aristocratic clans? Since when did you start believing that the seeds I, the Five Elements Alliance, prioritize cultivating, can be casually strangled?"

As an elder of the White Tiger legion, the fury in his heart was a foregone conclusion.

Zhu Rong, reckless and abandoned, wore a smile that bordered on the manic.

She did not care!

Elder Gou Chang stowed his medicine mortar, his voice a low rumble:

"Enough talk with her. Ask about the Copper Sparrow Tower."

The Great Tang War God’s gaze sharpened in an instant, his voice once more assuming a majestic, ethereal timbre:

"Did the illicit gains Chi Yue’an reaped from running the Copper Sparrow Tower line your pockets?"

Zhu Rong’s expression was placid:

"Yes…

"But I merely demanded he wire eighty million to my offshore account annually. How he amassed his wealth is of no concern to me. The affairs of the Copper Sparrow Tower have nothing to do with me."

The Great Tang War God turned his gaze to Zhu Yangqiu, and said:

"Patriarch Zhu, Zhu Rong plotted the murder of the Primordial Heavenly Venerate and incited Chi Yue’an to illegal enrichment. We are taking her away."

Zhu Yangqiu, who had been keeping his head bowed sipping tea, lifted it, speaking slowly:

"Regarding Zhu Rong’s incitement of Chi Yue’an to illegal enrichment, the Zhu clan has no defense. But the charge of plotting the murder of the Primordial Heavenly Venerate—I do not accept it.

"'A graceful lady, a gentleman’s ideal match; the reverse holds true as well.' Zhu Rong admired the Primordial Heavenly Venerate, yet could not attain him, and so resorted to these crooked, heretical methods. She is indeed at fault, but as for plotting his murder—whence comes such an accusation?"

His tone was unhurried, his demeanor gentle, like a scholar with a tranquil spirit.

Elder Gou laughed:

"If I insist on pinning the charge of attempted murder on her, you go ask the Zhu clan’s Ancestor if they are willing to sever ties with our Five Elements Alliance for her sake."

In pupils like black buttons, a chill flickered.

At that moment, the door to the council hall swung open, and a bewitching, alluring woman entered under the gaze of all present.

Where her footsteps fell, flowers and green grass sprouted, teeming with vitality.

She cast a glance at Teddy, smiling:

"Elder Gou, it’s a small matter. No need for such extremes."

……

9:30 AM, the Colosseum.

Sitting beside Fu Qingyang, the Primordial Heavenly Venerate exclaimed in shock and rage:

"A fine of one billion, placed on the official blacklist, barred from leaving Yue City for three years? Where is there such a cheap settlement? Does my life, the Primordial Heavenly Venerate’s, count for less than a direct descendant of a Spiritual Realm aristocratic family?"

The above was the punishment the Five Elements Alliance meted out to Zhu Rong.

The result of wrangling and gaming between the elders of the Songhai Branch and the Fu Province Branch.

Though these penalties were not light—especially the blacklist, which would make it difficult for Zhu Rong’s standing in the Zhu clan to ever rise again, preventing her from becoming a figure who could stand on her own, and ensuring any future offense would be dealt with severely.

Yet he still felt the disposition far too lenient.

Fu Qingyang sat with legs crossed, hands thrust in his trouser pockets, leaning back in his chair as he watched the fierce combat within the arena, his voice flat:

"Your life, naturally, is not something a piece of trash can be mentioned in the same breath with."

Ling Jun, at his side, hooked an arm around Zhang Yuanqing's shoulder, clicking his tongue:

"I know Zhu Rong—that figure, that face, one look and you know she's top-tier. Pity I later found out she's a yandere, didn't dare hit on her. Now I discover her head isn't right either—can't she see you're a little lecher?

"Wanting to get with you isn't hard, why insist on such a stupid method?"

Zhang Yuanqing was seething, and shot back directly:

"Get lost, get lost!"

Zhu Rong's intentions were never as simple as just sleeping with him—she wanted to break him, torture him, train him into that dignity-less... whatever-you-call-it slave.

Zhang Yuanqing had pondered all last night, and combined with Fu Qingyang's description just now, he finally understood—Zhu Rong wanted to groom him into a male consort; the Red Moon An incident was only a tiny part.

The main blame lay with the Demon Lord!

The Demon Lord was also a Night Wanderer, and so was he—and both young and accomplished.

The Demon Lord had destroyed her dignity bit by bit, trained her into that... whatever slave.

This woman could do nothing to the Demon Lord, so she vented her pathological desire for revenge on him—humiliating him, training him—she felt as though she were humiliating the Demon Lord, and derived immense pleasure from it.

Ling Jun shrugged:

"Attempted murder and intentional murder carry different sentences—we're the authorities, we must follow the law. Can't just kill her because she wanted to harm you. If the authorities did that, the law's credibility would vanish—procedural justice above all.

"Besides, I heard the Zhu family head, Zhu Yangqiu, is lovers with an elder of the Hundred Flowers Association's Fu Province branch. Zhu Rong is a Spirit Realm Walker under Fu Province jurisdiction—this case falls to them. The Zhu clan has operated in Fu Province for over a century, roots deep and leaves lush. Getting this result is precisely because the Five Elements Alliance values you—swap in an ordinary person, and it'd likely have been suppressed."

"What about the Copper Sparrow Tower case?" Zhang Yuanqing frowned.

Ling Jun chuckled:

"Come on, you really think a closed case can shatter a Spirit Realm aristocratic family's direct line? Toppling a great clan never relies on evidence—it relies on power struggles."

You're damn passive-aggressive... Zhang Yuanqing thought irritably.

At that moment, the centurion with features handsome as carved jade spoke:

"Ling Jun's words are a bit blunt, but correct. If you're unwilling to accept it, then climb higher—kill the Zhu clan within the rules."

...

Zhu Family Villa District.

Beside a long dining table laid with white linen, Zhu Yangqiu and Zhu Rong dined in silence—aside from the servants standing at either end, no one else sat at the table.

Zhu Yangqiu ate until six-tenths full, then set down his chopsticks, elegantly wiping his mouth with a napkin, his tone light:

"The Demon Lord has already suffered divine extinction—your matters, let them return to dust."

Zhu Rong let out a cold laugh: "Return to dust? The scar left in the heart will never heal."

Zhu Qiu did not persist on the topic, his voice stern:

"How you amuse yourself on ordinary days is of no consequence," he said, "but cease entertaining designs upon the Primordial Heavenly Venerable. A figure such as he is not one you can lay a finger on. Should you persist in your delusion, do not blame me for disregarding our sibling bond."

Zhu Yangqiu had many sisters, but Zhu Rong was the only one born of the same mother, and he doted on her profoundly.

Forbidding her from targeting the Primordial Heavenly Venerable was not born of fear that the Zhu clan would be implicated, but of dread that the clan would one day be unable to shield her.

Zhu Rong fell silent, her knuckles blanching white around the chopsticks she gripped.

...

After dinner, Zhu Rong departed the villa in a foul mood. Beside the luxury sedan parked outside, the chauffeur in his suit stood ramrod straight, awaiting her.

The moment she emerged, he bowed low and opened the door.

The car sped along the broad avenues of the villa district. Night hung heavy, streetlamps blazing brilliant and bright. This entire enclave was Zhu clan property, their stronghold, housing the clan's kinsmen.

Zhu Rong's villa sat in the eastern sector—a three-story main building flanked by two two-story annexes.

Besides the servants, the villa housed the eight male concubines she kept.

The sedan passed through the wrought-iron gates and halted amid the lush, verdant garden.

The driver hurried out and opened the door.

Zhu Rong stepped from the cabin, drew a deep breath, her expression gloomy, and said coolly:

"Send Number Six to my bedroom!"

She crossed the garden in her heels, entering the main building beneath the glow of the streetlamps.

Taking the elevator to the third floor, Zhu Rong shed her coat, undid her coiffure, kicked off her heels, and padded barefoot—feet pale, delicate, exquisite—through the bedroom into the walk-in closet.

The closet held no clothes. It held whips, handcuffs, an array of plugs.

Zhu Rong selected a black leather whip, sprayed it with chili oil, her slender jade fingers tracing its length, a sickly smile blooming on her bewitching face.

She needed to whip young men, to vent the rage and stifling resentment festering in her heart.

After silencing Chi Yue'an back then, she knew that once the case was classified, implicating her would be difficult. As expected, the Five Elements Alliance's punishment was severe, but not crippling.

Yet Zhu Rong remained unreconciled.

She refused to simply let the Primordial Heavenly Venerable go. These past days, she knew with absolute clarity—both psychologically and physiologically—she wanted the Primordial Heavenly Venerable.

That young man was as stunningly brilliant as the Demon Lord, as shameless as the Demon Lord.

The sole difference: the Demon Lord was worse.

In the Primordial Heavenly Venerable, she saw the Demon Lord's shadow.

That alone ensured she would never let him go.

Zhu Rong twisted open her lipstick, applied it, her flaming red lips curving: "Sooner or later, you are mine, Primordial Heavenly Venerable..."

Whip in hand, she returned to the bedroom. Her pupils contracted sharply, gaze locking fixedly upon the lone sofa by the window.

There, a figure in fiery red.

The uninvited guest wore a Song-dynasty style long gown, gold thread embroidering intricate, exquisite cloud patterns across the chest and sleeves. A half-mask of silver adorned her face.

She sat with legs crossed, lounging lazily against the sofa, the eyes beneath her mask cold as ice as they fixed on Zhu Rong—like an empress upon her throne, coolly inspecting a subject.

"Who are you!"

Zhu Rong shouted sharply.

The words had barely fallen, before she could produce a talisman, before she could cry out a warning, crimson threads erupted from behind the red-robed woman—winding, slithering, like rivers of fresh blood. They bound Zhu Rong's limbs, hoisting her into midair.

"If you're smart enough, you'll know silence is your best option now."

The red-robed woman spoke lightly.

"Siming..."

The instant she saw the crimson threads, Zhu Rong's eyes went wide, her face pale with shock and disbelief.

"The Zhu and Xie families' Siming can be counted on one hand. You're from neither house—who are you?" Zhu Rong abandoned all thought of resistance; before a Siming, her life was no more than an ant's.

The red-robed woman giggled.

"Is there not still the Chu family? Speaking of which, our clans are old acquaintances—I should call you Elder Sister."

"You're the Palace Master of Zhisha!" The corresponding intelligence surfaced instantly in Zhu Rong's mind.

She frowned. "If you've come for the Zhu clan, you should see my elder brother. If you've come for me... apologies, but I don't know you."

The Zhisha Palace Master rose slowly, her long skirt sliding down like water. Barefoot, she paced toward Zhu Rong, smiling.

"You needn't know me. And I'm not here to catch up on old times."

Then what do you want... Zhu Rong opened her mouth to ask, but suddenly the crimson threads at her arms and thighs tightened, biting into delicate skin. Bright red blood welled instantly, trickling along the threads, dripping down.

"Mmph—" She frowned in pain, a low moan escaping.

"I'm here to settle accounts." The Zhisha Palace Master's voice was cold as an ice blade. "Sister, you could have provoked anyone—why Yuan Shi Tianzun? He's my consort. I hate it when others touch what's mine."

Zhu Rong's heart sank.

The Zhisha Palace Master didn't seem in a hurry to act. Her demeanor shifted, and she laughed to herself.

"Heard you were captured by the Demon Lord years ago, kept as a lowly slave for a month. Ever since, you've been... not quite right. The reason you set your sights on Yuan Shi Tianzun—I could guess with my toes.

"Is it that you can't let go of your hatred for the Demon Lord... or that you still harbor feelings for him?"

She feigned surprise.

"Sister really is a cheap bone. He treated you like a worn-out shoe, yet you fell in love with him."

The words seemed to strike the deepest scar in Zhu Rong's heart. Her face drained white, then flushed crimson, a neurotic smile curling her lips.

"However low I am, I'm still not as low as a pitiable worm whose family was destroyed."

The Zhisha Palace Master's eyes turned frigid. The room's temperature plummeted, as though winter had descended.

A few seconds later, she laughed—wildly, shaking with mirth.

A lovesick lunatic and a deranged maniac—both like mental patients.

The Zhisha Palace Master raised a hand, her wide crimson sleeve sliding down to reveal a forearm white as lotus root. Slender fingers lifted Zhu Rong's chin, her smile bewitching.

“Sister is so beautiful, yet alas, she is utterly shameless. Since you have no face to lose, little sister shall peel it off for you.”

Red threads crawled up Zhu Rong’s cheeks, twisting rapidly like loaches, burrowing into her skin.

“Ah…”

Zhu Rong’s scream pierced through the entire villa.

Upon receiving a report from a clansman, Zhu Yangqiu rushed to his sister’s residence. He shoved open the bedroom door and found Zhu Rong lying on the floor, covered in blood, her body convulsing ceaselessly.

Her face was a bloody ruin, revealing tender red flesh; beside her lay a complete, intact human face-skin.

Her limbs had been shattered, bones jutting obscenely through flesh, a sight of heart-stopping horror.

Zhu Yangqiu froze for a few seconds, then cried out hoarsely, “Quickly! Fetch the Essence of Life…”

…

Ink-black clouds churned in the sky; a frigid wind howled through every corner of this world.

This was a battlefield, and also a graveyard.

As far as the eye could see, dry bones carpeted the ground—human bones, warhorse bones. Rotted weapons lay half-buried in black mud; shattered windlasses and trebuchets lay strewn about.

Amidst the sobbing gale, wraiths of the battle-dead whirled and shrieked, emitting ghostly wails audible only to Night Wanderers.

In this desolate, bleak expanse, akin to the netherworld, a woman clad in a Ming-dynasty long skirt stood with hands clasped behind her back beside a towering skeleton.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, her bearing ethereal, graceful as a celestial maiden.

“How tragic. A War God of his generation, denied peace even in death, trapped within a Sumeru Mustard Seed.”

The Lady of Three Dao Mountains mocked.

That towering skeleton wore armor and leaned on a saber—the sole corpse that refused to fall even in death.

“You are…”

In the hollow eye sockets of the skeleton, two clusters of soul-fire ignited. It turned its neck with slow, agonizing difficulty, gazing at the Lady of Three Dao Mountains.

The soul-fire flared violently. “The Third Princess? You… you have not yet perished…”

The Lady of Three Dao Mountains smiled.

“Night Wanderers possess vigorous vitality; naturally we endure. I prolonged my fading breath with a secret art of slumber. I never expected that upon waking, misfortune would turn to fortune—this heaven and earth has severed from the world you and I knew. Cultivation is possible here; I need no longer fret over my lifespan, though I cannot leave.”

The General’s skeleton spoke slowly.

“In those years, the Third Princess’s beauty crowned the world, her talent peerless. Suitors from foreign nations were beyond count. That this humble officer may see the Princess again is truly heaven’s pity.”

“Yet… even you cannot leave?”

The Lady of Three Dao Mountains seemed to recall the past; a trance flickered across her peerless face, quickly suppressed, her expression returning to icy composure.

“My Yang Soul was stolen by a petty thief. I must find him, but he is a man of the present era. Each time he enters this world, his stay is exceedingly brief. And there are too many minor pocket dimensions corresponding to the Night Wanderer realm; I know not when or where he will enter. Finding him is most difficult.”

“This humble officer is willing to serve the Princess.”

The Lady of Three Dao Mountains withdrew a sheet of human-skin parchment from her colorful sleeve.

"I cannot find him, but I can lure him into a trap of his own making. This tome records the secret art of offering sacrifice to me. I need you to dispatch the ghostly hosts, to convey the secrets within to every Night Wanderer-realm instance. Yes, in their parlance, this is an instance.

"Through my explorations these past months, I have grasped the rules of this heaven and earth. Once this secret art enters a Night Wanderer-realm instance, the instance will automatically adjust, transmuting it into a quest item."

She had roamed this world for months, encountering no few powerful Spirit Realm Walkers, torturing secrets from their lips.

She now possessed a thorough understanding of this world—namely, the Spirit Realm—and the Spirit Realm Walkers.

Once the Walkers obtained the secret art of sacrificing to her, they would inevitably rush to perform the ritual, trading offerings for power.

There would be not a shred of hesitation.

Because to that lot, this thing was a potent consumable.

The Three-Dao Mountain Empress smiled.

"Of late, a whim has seized me; I sense he is about to enter the Spirit Realm."

"This subordinate shall surely exert every effort to assist Your Highness. Has Your Highness managed to fathom the mysteries of this world?"

"I have pierced a portion of them."

"Might Your Highness deign to tell this subordinate?"

"I can!"

...

"Centurion, what did you say? Zhu Rong was nearly killed by the Palace Lord of Cessation, her very face flayed off?"

Zhang Yuanqing heard the news, his jaw dropping in stunned silence.

Too ruthless! Zhang Yuanqing had long known the Palace Lord of Cessation was a madwoman, but he hadn't expected her madness to be this terrifying.

Fu Qingyang said:

"The Zhu clan lacks not for Life Origin Fluid; her injuries and appearance should have already been restored. Now the Zhu clan intends to sue you for malicious retaliation, and demands the Songhai Branch apprehend the Palace Lord of Cessation."