Chapter 49 You can hit me, I can bear it

Han Zhi's body suddenly stiffened, his red eyes widening instantly as he stared at the woman in disbelief, almost forgetting the pain in his butt. He gripped the hem of his clothes so tightly that his hands turned pale. Chi Changyuan said in dissatisfaction, "Princess, this is ridiculous!"

The princess, however, waved her silver-bone fan and smiled nonchalantly, "Ridiculous? If I want to reward you with the Red Moon Grass, you must follow my rules." Her eyes swept over Han Zhi's tense waist and abdomen, and her tone was full of pressure that brooked no argument. "Either take off your pants and be caned, or leave Yaotai now - anyway, I'm not the one who's in a hurry to save your life."

Han Zhi's hands trembled slightly at his side. He looked at the pity in Chi Changyuan's eyes, and thought of the collapse of the Jin Kingdom. His throat churned, but he finally gritted his teeth. He reached out and pushed Chi Changyuan away, his voice trembling slightly, but with an unwavering determination: "I promise you."

"Han Zhi!" Chi Changyuan tried to pull him back, but Han Zhi dodged. Han Zhi turned, his back to the crowd, his fingertips hooked around the jade belt at his waist, and slowly lowered his trousers, pulling his thin underwear down between his legs. He slumped over the bench, the redness of his buttocks jarring against the paleness of his waist. Even his breathing became stiff.

Seeing this, the princess smiled with satisfaction, took the ebony staff, and with a flick of her wrist, the staff fell with a rustling sound. With a crisp "snap," another red and swollen mark immediately appeared. Han Zhi's body trembled violently, cold sweat trickling down his cheeks, but he bit his lip tightly, preventing himself from making a sound.

"I'm tired of beating you." She smiled and suddenly handed the wooden stick to Chi Changyuan: "I still have fourteen strokes left. You can beat me. If you don't satisfy me, you can start over again."

Chi Changyuan stared at the ebony staff Su Ling handed him, his fingertips cold, his breathing stagnant for a moment. The staff, still stained with Han Zhi's blood, shone with a cold glow, like a red-hot iron, so hot that he dared not take it.

"Princess, what do you mean?" He said in a deep voice, his eyes fixed on her. "If you want to punish him, then punish him. Why force him to endure such humiliation?"

"Force?" The princess raised an eyebrow, retracted her hand and shook the ebony cane, blood dripping from the tip of the cane onto the jade tile. "He was the one who asked to exchange for the Red Moon Grass, and he was the one who agreed to take off his pants and be caned. I am only giving you a chance to 'cherish' him." Her eyes swept over Han Zhi, who was lying on the bench, and her tone was playful. "If you hit me too lightly and I am not satisfied, I will have to start over with the thirty strokes. If you hit me too hard... the one who will feel hurt is you."

So what if she harbors evil intentions?

Who made her love watching these "sad love" stories?

Han Zhi lay on the stool, the pain in his back almost numb, but he still heard the princess' words clearly. He suddenly raised his head and shouted at Chi Changyuan, "You can hit me, I can take it."

Chi Changyuan saw the panic in Han Zhi's eyes, then looked at the blood-stained ebony staff. His heart ached as if it were being crushed. He knew that the princess was deliberately trying to put him in a dilemma. Either she could injure Han Zhi herself, or she could make him suffer all over again. He took a deep breath, finally stepped forward, and tremblingly took the ebony staff.

Han Zhi bent down again and said, "I'm fine, you can fight me."

Chi Changyuan gripped the ebony staff, his hand shaking violently. He raised his hand, the staff hovering above Han Zhi's back, and hesitated to lower it. Until the princess impatiently urged, "If you dawdle any longer, I'll start the timer."

He closed his eyes, finally hardened his heart, and brought the ebony stick down fiercely. With a "snap", Han Zhi bit his lower lip.

"Not satisfied." The princess' voice rang out immediately, "So gentle, are you trying to relax him? Try again."

Chi Changyuan's fingertips turned white. He looked at the purple mark on Han Zhi's buttocks. Finally, he gritted his teeth and increased his strength. The ebony stick fell with a crisp "snap" sound. Han Zhi's body trembled violently, and cold sweat instantly soaked the white hair on his forehead.

"That's more like it." The princess laughed. "Go on—thirty strokes again, and don't let me remind you again."

The ebony staff felt like a thousand pounds between Chi Changyuan's fingers. Every time he raised it, it felt like it was tearing at his sanity. He stared at the newly reddened swelling on Han Zhi's buttocks. The skin had long since lost its original whiteness, now crisscrossed with bruises and bloodstains. Even his pulled-down underwear was darkened by the bloodstains. But Han Zhi gritted his teeth, refusing even a faint whimper.

"The twenty-fifth stroke." The princess's voice was like a needle, piercing Chi Changyuan's heart. "Your grip is getting weaker and weaker—are you heartbroken? Don't start all over again."

Chi Changyuan's throat tightened, and the veins in his hand gripping the staff bulged. He took a deep breath, forced himself to look away, and gave a sudden force with his wrist, bringing the ebony staff down with a rustling sound. "Snap!" This blow was a bit heavier than before. Han Zhi's body suddenly tensed, his knuckles digging into the bench, his nails practically digging into the wood grain. The white hair at his temples was clinging to the side of his neck with cold sweat, glistening with a damp, cold sheen.

"Twenty-six."

The princess said, "There are still four sticks left. Hurry up."

Chi Changyuan launched another attack.

"Twenty-seven." Her voice was nonchalantly urgent, and the silver bone fan tapped her palm. "You're still not releasing enough strength. Look at him, even his waist is straightened. Is he waiting for you to be heavier?"

Chi Changyuan knew that such humiliating remarks were meant to provoke him, but seeing Han Zhi's forbearing expression, his heart felt like it was being tightly gripped, and even breathing was painful. He gritted his teeth and exerted force with his wrist again. When the ebony staff fell, Han Zhi's body suddenly rushed forward. If it weren't for the bench blocking him, he would have almost fallen to the ground.

"Twenty-eight." The princess smiled. "There are still two more strokes to go. This stroke must make him remember the pain, otherwise what if he forgets the rules?"

"He doesn't need to follow the rules here." Chi Changyuan said coldly.

Han Zhi lay on the stool, feeling the skin on his back getting hot. Every breath he took pulled at the wound, causing him to feel so painful that his vision went black.

Seeing the pleading in his eyes, Chi Changyuan finally steeled his resolve and struck Han Zhi with the twenty-ninth blow. This blow was incredibly powerful, and after a sharp snap, Han Zhi's body trembled violently. Finally, unable to contain himself, a muffled groan escaped through his teeth. Chi Changyuan's hand, gripping the cane, trembled even more violently, blood seeping from between his fingers—he'd gripped it too tightly, and the wooden thorns on the cane had pierced his palm.

"You made a sound, but I'm a magnanimous lady, so I'll just count this as the last blow." She put away the silver bone fan and cast her eyes on the two men. "You must fight well and don't let me down."

Chi Changyuan took a deep breath, channeling his last bit of strength into his wrists. The moment the ebony staff fell, Han Zhi's body stiffened, then slumped limply onto the bench. There was no movement, only a faint breath confirmed he was still awake. Chi Changyuan immediately dropped the staff and rushed over to embrace him. As soon as his hand touched Han Zhi's back, it was stained with blood.