Chapter 174: Dushima Yingxue

Song Wanrou no longer felt the initial hatred.

As an observer of the battle, her gaze shifted from anger to shame to fear—in a very short time.

She even felt relieved that Dushima Yingxue had intercepted her.

Otherwise, if she herself had to endure Song Mo.

She would have been shattered like a broken toy, utterly miserable.

Fortunately, it seemed to be ending.

Only then did Song Wanrou exhale a long breath.

But that breath had not yet fully eased when the battle resumed, and Song Wanrou's anxiety returned.

She truly feared Dushima Yingxue would die here.

The battle finally ended.

Dushima Yingxue barely managed to stand up, supporting her body.

She gripped the bedpost but nearly toppled over.

Her whole body ached, especially one spot, as if torn apart.

A brand-new car, just unboxed, had been driven violently—no matter how luxurious its specs, it was useless.

All one could say was, thank goodness this car was built with real materials.

Solid foundation.

A more fragile car would have been destroyed outright by such violent driving.

Dushima Yingxue had trained in martial arts since childhood, and recently had diligently practiced the Five Animals Play, making some progress with the aid of Song Mo's Da Huan Dan.

Precisely because of this, she had barely endured the inhuman torment of the irrational Song Mo.

Song Wanrou saw that Dushima Yingxue's cheeks were streaked with tears.

"Mmm!"

She struggled to speak.

Dushima Yingxue, leaning on the bed, staggered over to Song Wanrou's side and removed the cloth from her mouth so she could speak.

Song Wanrou said coldly:

"Don't you want to go to the hospital?"

"You look like you're about to die."

"Heh, what a failed scheme—ended up losing more than you gained."

She had expected Dushima Yingxue's face to show fear, but instead, Dushima Yingxue, drenched in sweat, lips pale as if dehydrated,

did not show regret—she showed happiness and satisfaction.

Dushima Yingxue, like a proud peacock, proudly displayed her body before Song Wanrou.

Her once smooth, fair skin was now covered in bruises and red marks, as if subjected to brutal torture.

Yet these horrifying scars, to Song Wanrou, had become Dushima Yingxue's tokens of pride.

Dushima Yingxue's gaze was utterly enraptured; in her eyes, these wounds had become medals—proof of her service to the divine, of the god's favor.

Dushima Yingxue declared proudly:

"Sister Wanrou, you don't need to thank me."

"Though I accidentally saved your life, I never intended to."

"The truth proves that only I and Brother Song Mo are a perfect match."

Dushima Yingxue spoke to herself.

She confided her inner thoughts to Song Wanrou.

"Song Wanrou, have you ever felt this?"

"Song Mo—he is truly one in a million. Look, he excels at everything he tries; in any field, if he wants, he becomes the best."

"He is not ordinary—he is a favored one of heaven."

"He learned the Piano, and his mastery on it is like that of a Piano God."

"Such an exceptional gene can only be matched by another exceptional gene—and I am such a person."

"Since childhood, even when I was very young, I knew that anything I wanted to do, I could likely accomplish."

"Look at my face—also a beauty that captivates cities."

"Of all women, who else besides Song Mo could possibly be worthy of me?"

Dushima Yingxue was deeply enraptured.

She breathed in the air's licentious scent.

Her expression grew increasingly morbid.

"Even I am not worthy to be Teacher's spouse."

"But it doesn't matter—I don't want to be Teacher's wife."

"I only wish to be Teacher's exclusive possession."

"To be used whenever he pleases, never let go."

"I am his forbidden toy—anyone who touches me, Teacher will rage uncontrollably."

This woman is a pervert!

Seeing Dushima Yingxue's morbid expression, Song Wanrou instantly thought this.

She had never watched Yinghuaguo's small films, nor knew how many categories of perversion existed within them.

But because Yinghuaguo's perversions were notoriously infamous, Song Wanrou still knew a little.

It was said that Yinghuaguo most reveres the strong—its admiration for power had become a national trait.

In Yinghuaguo, whether man or woman, all hold absolute reverence for the strong—but once the strong grow weak, they breed rebellious thoughts.

The same holds true in Yinghuaguo's society, where the hierarchy is rigid to an extreme.

A subordinate's disrespect toward a superior is a grave offense; a superior who cannot control their subordinate faces only a miserable end.

"Dushima Yingxue, this isn't love—you merely fear the strong!"

Song Wanrou spat bitterly: "You're just a disgusting, lowly woman—nothing but a pretty face. Don't pretend you're more than that."

Dushima Yingxue sneered.

She freed the bound Song Wanrou, then picked up her fallen clothes and went to bathe.

"I'm leaving. What you do next is your own business."

After speaking, Dushima Yingxue walked past Song Wanrou like a proud swan.

Even as she left, she remembered to gently close the door behind her.

After Dushima Yingxue departed, Song Wanrou stared at Song Mo, who had just finished and was resting, a flicker of conflict rising in her eyes.

She wondered whether she should take up Dushima Yingxue's torch.

After all, her goal today had been to hold onto Song Mo by any means necessary—with her body.

Song Wanrou clenched her teeth.

She still decided to carry on with her unfinished mission.

But as she neared Song Mo and climbed onto the bed,

she was snatched up like a chick by an eagle, pulled into his arms.

Song Wanrou's cheeks flushed slightly.

As she drew close to Song Mo, the strong scent of his male pheromones made her body heat up, her face burning.

Song Wanrou wanted to begin her move, but Song Mo's arms were like iron bands, locking her tightly.

Song Wanrou had no choice.

She was desperate inside, yet could do nothing.

She gazed at Song Mo's sleeping face, on which faint traces of his childhood features still lingered.

Thinking of childhood, Song Wanrou's heart gradually grew calm.

As a child, Song Mo was mischievous, and she had always played the role of a caring older sister.

It was somewhat nostalgic.

She longed for him to cling to her again, as he had in childhood.

As Song Wanrou thought this, she too fell asleep.

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(End of Chapter)