newbobooks Chapter 217 Scared? This is just the beginning!
Chapter 217 Scared? This is just the beginning!
Zhao Qingxue was forced to tilt her head back, revealing her pale, stunningly beautiful face.
The sunlight shone directly on her face, making her squint slightly.
She saw Sister Hong's face, so close to hers.
The fear and humility that had been on his face when he knelt and begged for mercy were gone.
Only resentment and bitterness remain.
Excitement.
There was only one kind of almost insane brilliance, a desire to prove oneself.
Sister Hong leaned down and whispered in her ear.
The warm, foul odor sprayed onto her cheeks.
"You lowly servant," Hongjie's voice was low, so low that only the two of them could hear it, yet it carried a chilling malice, "You tried to kill me just now?"
"Now, it's my turn to take good care of you."
Zhao Qingxue's body suddenly stiffened.
She opened her mouth, as if to say something.
But Sister Hong has already given her no chance.
The hand that was grabbing her hair suddenly yanked hard, pulling her up from the ground!
"stand up!"
Her voice was sharp and fierce, like the biting insults of a shrew in the street.
She was putting on a show for Qin Mu.
She demonstrates her "usefulness," her "value," and her "ability to tame" Zhao Qingxue.
Zhao Qingxue stumbled a few steps as she was pulled, nearly falling over.
A tearing pain shot through her scalp, as if every single hair was being ripped out by the roots. But she gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound.
Those deep purple phoenix eyes remained coldly calm.
But beneath that calm, something was churning violently.
Sister Hong dragged her to a corner of the private room.
There's a crossbeam there, a decorative remnant from the building's construction, thick and sturdy, just right for—
Hanging man.
Sister Hong pulled a hemp rope from her waist.
The rope was one of the "tools" she always carried with her; it was originally used to tie up goods, but now it had come in handy for another purpose.
Hongjie looked at Zhao Qingxue.
Those eyes gleamed with an excited yet cruel light.
"Slut."
Sister Hong spoke, her voice deliberately contemptuous and humiliating, "You won't listen to reason, so you'll have to suffer the consequences. Today I'll show you what I'm capable of."
She stepped forward and grabbed Zhao Qingxue's wrist.
Zhao Qingxue did not struggle.
It's not that I don't want to struggle, but that struggling is useless.
After her cultivation was sealed, she was just an ordinary woman. But Sister Hong was at least a second-rank martial artist.
The difference in strength is like an insurmountable chasm.
Sister Hong wrapped the hemp rope around her wrist several times and tightened it forcefully.
The rough hemp rope dug deep into the skin, causing a burning pain.
Zhao Qingxue frowned slightly, but still remained silent.
Sister Hong tied a knot, then grabbed the other end of the rope and started pulling upwards.
The hemp rope rubbed against the crossbeam, making a grating, screeching sound.
Zhao Qingxue's body was lifted off the ground little by little.
First, the toes leave the ground, then the soles of the feet, and finally both feet are suspended in mid-air.
She was suspended under the beam, her hands tied behind her back, her body swaying slightly.
The moon-white skirt cascaded down, like an upside-down flower about to wither.
Sunlight streamed in through the window and shone on her.
She had never suffered like this before.
there has never been.
From being made a princess at the age of eight, to participating in court affairs at fifteen, to ascending the throne as emperor at twenty—
She has always been the one who is high and mighty.
It's the one who sits on the dragon throne, looking down upon all living beings.
It is the one that made countless heroes bow down and submit.
She has witnessed torture, slaughter, and the cruelest scenes in human history.
But she never imagined that one day these things would happen to her.
He was hung up.
They were hung up like livestock awaiting slaughter.
Sister Hong took two steps back, put her hands on her hips, and admired her "work" with satisfaction.
"How is it?"
Her voice carried undisguised smugness. "This doesn't feel good, does it?"
Zhao Qingxue did not answer.
She simply hung there quietly, her head slightly bowed, her long hair cascading down, obscuring most of her face.
Only her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her true state at that moment.
Sister Hong frowned.
She was not satisfied with this reaction.
She wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, to see fear and despair in those proud eyes.
But this woman didn't even utter a sound.
A hint of ferocity flashed in Sister Hong's eyes.
She walked up to Zhao Qingxue, reached out and pinched her chin, forcing her to raise her head.
"Look at me."
Zhao Qingxue raised her eyes.
Those deep purple phoenix eyes calmly fell on Sister Hong's face.
That gaze was so deep, as deep as an ancient well that has stood for a thousand years, its bottom unseen.
Hongjie's heart skipped a beat when she saw that gaze, and a chill ran down her spine once again.
But then she remembered that Qin Mu was watching from the side, that she had almost died at the hands of this woman, and that she was "performing".
That chill was instantly replaced by an even stronger sense of resentment and excitement.
"Staring at me?"
Sister Hong sneered, released her grip on her chin, and instead grabbed her collar.
"Do you still think you're the high and mighty Empress Li Yang?"
She pulled hard!
"Sizzle—"
The pale white collar was torn, revealing a snow-white undergarment and delicate collarbones.
Zhao Qingxue's body stiffened slightly.
Seeing her momentarily frozen reaction, Sister Hong felt a surge of almost exhilarating pleasure.
"What? Scared?"
She leaned closer, her voice low, so low that only the two of them could hear it, yet it carried a chilling malice:
"I'm telling you, this is just the beginning."
She took a step back and looked Zhao Qingxue up and down.
My gaze traveled from her torn collar to her taut body as she was suspended, and then to her feet, dangling in mid-air and clad in old shoes.
Then, her gaze fell on Zhao Qingxue's belt.
The belt was also moon-white, embroidered with delicate cloud patterns.
Sister Hong reached out, grabbed the belt, and pulled hard!
The belt was pulled out, and the moon-white robe instantly lost its restraint, hanging loosely down.
Sister Hong shook the belt in her hand, then casually tossed it aside.
"This outfit needs a change," she said, her gaze sweeping over Zhao Qingxue without restraint. "It's too plain; it doesn't suit a prisoner like you."
Her gaze fell on the torn collar of Zhao Qingxue's clothes.
Then, she reached out and grabbed the collar on the other side.
"Sizzle—"
Another crack appeared.
The moon-white robe was torn open, revealing more of her snow-white skin.
Zhao Qingxue's shoulders trembled slightly.
She remained silent.
But the emptiness and bewilderment in those deep purple phoenix eyes were gradually being replaced by another emotion.
The emotions were very complex.
There was anger, resentment, and humiliation.
There is also a deep, almost desperate sense of powerlessness.
Looking at her like this, Sister Hong felt an increasing sense of pleasure.
She reached out again and grabbed the hem of her robe.
"Sizzle—"
"Sizzle—"
"Sizzle—"
One crack after another appeared on the moon-white robe.
The crisscrossing tears had ripped the once-intact robe to shreds.
The fragments fell down, revealing the snow-white inner garment and the skin faintly visible beneath it.
Zhao Qingxue was suspended under the crossbeam, her body swaying slightly.
The moon-white robe was tattered and torn, like a flower petal ravaged by a storm.
Her face was as pale as paper, and her lips had lost all color from being bitten so hard, leaving deep teeth marks.
Those deep purple phoenix eyes remained open.
But there was no emotion left inside.
There was only an empty, deathly silence.
Sister Hong took two steps back and once again admired her "work" with satisfaction.
Then, she turned her head and looked at Qin Mu.
Those eyes were filled with a gleam of self-satisfaction.
"His Majesty--"
Her voice carried a deliberate air of flattery and ingratiation, "How do you think I did?"
Qin Mu leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on one hand, his posture languid.
His gaze fell on Zhao Qingxue, on her pale, peerless face, on her empty, deep purple phoenix eyes, and on her trembling body wrapped in a torn, moon-white robe.
The corners of his mouth always held that ambiguous smile.
A satisfied and excited light shone in those deep eyes.
He didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.
The movement was very light and casual.
But it was like a silent decree, affirming all of Sister Hong's actions.
When Sister Hong received this signal, the weight that had been hanging over her heart finally lifted.
She smiled even more brightly and turned to look at Zhao Qingxue again.
"Did you see that?"
She walked up to Zhao Qingxue, reached out, and poked her cheek with her fingertip.
It felt cool to the touch, and as smooth as cream.
"Your Majesty is satisfied."
She spoke each word deliberately, each syllable carrying a deliberate insult:
"You will suffer less from your sins."
Zhao Qingxue looked at her.
The emptiness and bewilderment in those deep purple phoenix eyes finally faded, replaced by a cold, calm as deep as a thousand-year-old icy pool.
There's so much hidden beneath that calm.
There is anger.
There was resentment.
It was humiliating.
and also--
A deep, almost resigned sense of powerlessness.
She opened her mouth, as if to say something.
But only a hoarse, almost inaudible gasp escaped his throat.
Having been suspended for so long, his arms ached so much from being tied behind his back that he almost lost all feeling in them, and his breathing became difficult due to the weight of his body.
She felt like she was suffocating.
It wasn't because the rope was too tight, nor because he was suspended too high.
Rather, it's because—
This is humiliation.
This is humiliation.
This is a torment worse than death.
When did she suffer like this?
there has never been.
there has never been.
But at this moment, all she could do was endure it.
She could only watch as that vulgar woman used the most vicious methods to humiliate and torment her, destroying her last shred of dignity bit by bit.
Hongjie looked at her pale face, her empty eyes, and her slightly trembling lips.
The joy in my heart was almost overflowing.
"What's wrong?"
She leaned closer, her voice very low, so low that only the two of them could hear:
"Trying to beg for mercy?"
"You want me to put you down?"
A chilling smile curled at the corners of her lips:
"Please."
"Beg me."
"Call me Sister Hong for mercy, and I'll consider letting you down."
Zhao Qingxue looked at her.
Looking at that beautiful yet mean face so close to his.
A flicker of emotion finally appeared in those deep purple phoenix eyes.
A chilling killing intent.
That killing intent flashed like lightning deep within his eyes.
It happened so fast that almost no one noticed.
But it did exist.
Like a sharp blade hidden in its sheath, it finally revealed its cold, sharp edge.
Sister Hong's heart skipped a beat at that gaze, and she subconsciously took a half step back.
But then she realized she had stepped back.
She was actually frightened by a woman who was hanging up and had no strength to even kill a chicken.
This realization stirred up an even stronger sense of shame and anger within her.
She stepped forward and raised her hand—
"Snapped!"
He slapped Zhao Qingxue hard across the face.
The force was so strong that Zhao Qingxue's head snapped to one side, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.
She was so badly beaten that her vision went black and her ears were ringing.
But she didn't scream, didn't shout, and didn't beg for mercy.
He simply turned his head back slowly.
Those deep purple phoenix eyes remained calmly fixed on Sister Hong's face.
There's so much hidden beneath that calm.
There was a chilling murderous intent.
It possesses an indomitable stubbornness.
There is another type—
Even if tortured to death, they would never bow their heads in pride.
Seeing her like this, Sister Hong felt increasingly ashamed and annoyed.
She raised her hand and slapped him again!
"Snapped!"
Another slap!
"Snapped!"
One slap after another.
Every time, he gave it his all, and every time, he left a bright red palm print on that peerless face.
Zhao Qingxue's face was swollen from the beating, and more and more blood was flowing from the corner of her mouth, dripping down her chin and onto her tattered moon-white robe, spreading into shocking blood flowers.
But she still didn't scream, didn't shout, and didn't beg for mercy.
He simply looked calmly at Sister Hong with his deep purple phoenix eyes.
That gaze was like a dull knife, slowly cutting into Sister Hong's heart.
Sister Hong got tired of hitting and took two steps back, panting.
She turned to look at Qin Mu.
Qin Mu remained leaning back in his chair, his posture languid.
His gaze fell on Zhao Qingxue, on her swollen and red face, and on her calm, deep purple phoenix eyes.
The smile that seemed to be playing on his lips deepened even further.
A more satisfied and excited light shone in those deep eyes.
It's like admiring a work of art that has finally begun to "change color".
Seeing his appearance, Sister Hong's last bit of hesitation vanished.
She would continue as long as His Majesty was satisfied.
Continue to torture this woman until she bows her head, until she begs for mercy, until she—
Completely collapse.