Chapter 95: Yinghuaguo, the Woman Who Longs to Be Conquered

Yinghuaguo.

A girl in a kimono sat gracefully on her knees, holding a mobile phone in her hand.

She had the classic oval face.

Her facial structure was exquisitely refined, her skin pure and gleaming like snow.

Her figure was also remarkably impressive.

Dushima Yingxue was watching a video of Song Mo, the screen showing him stripping off his shirt, wearing an iron mask, and displaying his muscles.

Facing such a blush-inducing scene,

Dushima Yingxue's expression remained cold and composed.

Her gaze was as clear and crisp as spring water.

As the video continued, it showed Song Mo delivering ten punches and seven kicks in one second, followed by a single punch shattering a punching bag.

The punching bag flew over ten meters away—utterly astonishing.

Dushima Yingxue's expression never changed; she appeared utterly aloof, showing not the slightest emotional fluctuation.

Yet her beautiful eyes were fixed intently on the video.

Sitting across from her was an old man clad in a kendo uniform.

"Yingxue, what do you think of this Huaguo martial artist?"

"I've watched his videos—they're utterly astonishing."

"His punching and kicking speed is even faster than Li Xiaolong's. I can't believe such a formidable combatant truly exists in this world."

"I've heard modern technology has advanced so much that digital fakery has become rampant. So I want to ask you—is this video real?"

Dushima Yingxue lifted her head, facing the famed martial arts Master of Yinghuaguo, yet her face showed not the faintest smile—still as cold as ever.

"It's real."

"I had people verify it thoroughly. The power displayed in the video is indeed this man's true strength, though the possibility of stimulant use cannot be ruled out."

"Oh, is that so?"

The kendo Master smiled.

"Even so, it's still astonishing. Yingxue, I heard he will host a seven-day Martial Arts Tournament in two days."

"Are you interested in going to test its authenticity?"

Dushima Yingxue's eyes turned toward the kendo Master.

He wore a white kendo uniform and carried only a wooden sword at his waist—nothing unusual about him.

But Dushima Yingxue sensed an unusual atmosphere in the air.

Dushima Yingxue fell silent for a moment.

Then she spoke:

"Master, are you using my blade to test the sharpness of that famous sword?"

The kendo Master sipped his tea and smiled without answering.

Dushima Yingxue lowered her eyelids.

"I understand, Master."

In truth, even if the kendo Master had not hinted at it, she still intended to travel to the United States to meet Song Mo and see just how much real skill he possessed.

As the eldest daughter of Busudao, Yinghuaguo's greatest noble house,

Dushima Yingxue had been raised under strict discipline since childhood.

Her parents had instilled in her rigid rules and ideals:

She was Busudao's eldest daughter; every word and action represented Busudao's dignity and honor, so she studied etiquette, tea ceremony, music, kendo…

In every field, she demanded perfection.

Even if she couldn't achieve perfection, she must reach an extremely high level.

As a result, Dushima Yingxue's personality became fiercely competitive and deeply self-obsessed.

She was, in fact, utterly power-worshipping.

She once believed no man in the world deserved her—marrying anyone would be a downgrade, even a royal heir.

But recently,

due to the viral fame of the Martial Arts Tournament, she had taken notice of Song Mo.

Of course, because he wore a mask, she didn't know his true identity—she only knew his codename: "Dragon."

After watching his martial arts videos, she felt he was like her: both seeking perfection, both chasing the absolute pinnacle.

Otherwise, how could he have achieved such feats?

When she saw him strip off his shirt and reveal his flawless physique, Dushima Yingxue showed no outward reaction—but her spirit was still shaken.

【How can a man possess such a perfect body?】

【Surely, only I—as the opposite sex—could rival him?】

Dushima Yingxue's long eyelashes trembled slightly.

Her slender hand quietly brushed against the sword resting beside her.

She suddenly found herself looking forward to her trip to the United States.

She very much wanted to meet this powerful man—what kind of man was he really?

Dushima Yingxue knew deep inside.

She was an elegant woman, a noble woman—but she could also become an Ying Dang, a base woman,

if a strong enough man conquered her.

……

Canada, a beach.

A bald man wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks, clutching a Swiss army knife, laughed wildly and leapt into the sea.

A short while later, on the distant sea surface.

Blood-tinged water bubbled up, quickly spreading in all directions.

A spray of water shot up as the man burst out from beneath the waves, hauling something up with great effort in his hands — a closer look revealed it was a shark!

Moments ago,

this man had gone into the sea with nothing but an army knife to wrestle the shark, and the other party's face clearly bore a twisted, satisfied grin.

Clearly, he treated this as a kind of hunting game.

Endlessly enjoying his delightful playtime.

The man sat on the sand, arms and legs spread wide, and didn't forget to bring his shark-bloodied hands to his mouth to lap and taste.

He went ashore, picked up his phone, opened Twitter, wanting to show off his spoils.

But he saw a push notification from Song Mo's account.

A few eye-catching big words seized his attention.

Martial Arts Tournament.

He tapped in to take a look, and soon the corner of his mouth curled into a slight arc…

"Let me go see what little surprise my cutie has prepared for me, shall we?"

……

New York.

An underground black-market boxing ring.

A powerfully built black boxer, his body covered in lean muscle and riddled with scars, threw a vicious, brutal hook.

A merciless KO of his opponent.

His opponent's temple took a devastating blow.

When that pitch-black fist slammed into his opponent's head, it was like a heavy iron hammer brutally crashing into him.

His opponent's equally massive, hulking body suddenly collapsed.

Never to rise again.

Blood gushed out in a steady stream.

Mixed in were some white bits.

Looking utterly nauseating.

But this revolting scene only electrified the crowd; the cheers that erupted drowned out the entire arena.

"Black Mamba wins!"

The referee had to blow his whistle three times before the boiling crowd quieted down a touch, then announced the victory.

The boxer with the codename "Black Mamba" walked steadily down from the ring amid the uproar — no smug posturing, no feigned modesty either.

His gaze was vicious and sinister.

In his long-numbed heart, he was plotting something.

Someone had asked him to fight, but this time it wasn't at an underground black-market ring — it was at a martial arts hall…

His opponent was a Huaguo person.

(End of chapter)