Chapter 30's game is guaranteed to give you an unforgettable experience!

The stagnant air in the woodshed seemed to have gained weight, making it hard to breathe.

She stared intently at his profile, cold and hard as an ice sculpture. The invisible thing that had suddenly shattered during their fierce confrontation seemed to still be falling like dust in the air.

In that moment when the deathly silence was so oppressive that it was almost impossible to breathe.

"Bang!"

The wooden door was flung open, shattering not only the latch but also the frozen stalemate.

A chorus of crude laughter and curses rushed in, instantly shattering the almost solidified confrontation.

The burly henchman returned as expected, blocking the doorway like a demon. He carried nothing but rubbing his thick, calloused hands together, his face plastered with a smug and greasy grin.

He stepped aside slightly, and behind him followed several equally burly gang members with menacing faces. Several pairs of eyes lingered on her without any attempt to conceal their presence, emitting low, lewd laughter.

“Little beauty,” the burly man rubbed his hands together, his lewd gaze lingering on Fangru, “that broken bead… hehe, I really can’t find it anytime soon, I probably already pawned it.” He spat, then grinned, “But don’t worry, tomorrow! Tomorrow, your brother will definitely redeem it for you!”

As he spoke, he approached, while the others tacitly blocked the doorway, forming a wall of flesh that inspired despair.

"But today..." His voice was hoarse, and he chuckled softly as his dirty hand suddenly grabbed at Fangru. "Brother will collect some interest first! I guarantee I'll make you feel like you're dying of pleasure!"

Fangru's face turned deathly pale, and her heart sank straight into an ice cave.

She had clearly overestimated the bottom line of these scumbags! They never intended to keep their promises; they only wanted to get something for nothing!

She staggered backward, grabbing a dry twig and holding it tightly in front of her, her voice trembling with fear and anger: "Get out of my way! You treacherous bastard! Give me the beads first!"

"Hey! You're really asking for it!" The burly man was enraged and swatted away her harmless "weapon," his large, fan-like hand reaching straight for her collar.

Fangru screamed and turned to the side. In her panic, she grabbed some dry grass, wood chips, and dust and threw them at the other person's face, trying to create a gap.

But how could a weak woman like her possibly defeat this strong man? He approached with a sinister grin, reaching out to help capture her.

Panic hit her like a bucket of ice water, and she instinctively looked toward the pile of hay.

Zhou Ling remained seated.

He held the cold chess piece between his fingers, his gaze indifferently fixed on the void, as if what he was witnessing was not bullying, but a trivial game of chess.

There even seemed to be a faint, almost cruel, gleam of interest in the corner of his mouth.

He was actually... watching the show?

A chill, even more piercing than the humiliation itself, instantly swept over her.

Had she ever counted on him? Did she still harbor a laughable glimmer of hope? Now, that hope shattered into heart-wrenching icicles, piercing her very core with pain.

Anger and helplessness burned like wildfire in her heart, yet she didn't even have time to glare at him.

The filthy hand was about to touch her clothes when Fangru panicked and swung the dry firewood in her hand, striking the other person's thick arm hard.

With a "snap," the dry wood broke, leaving only a shallow mark on the other's rough skin.

"Damn it! You won't listen to reason, so you'll have to suffer the consequences!" The henchman, wincing in pain, roared at the door, rubbing his arm. "What are you all standing there for! Get over here and hold this shrew down!"

Upon hearing this, the other gang members blocking the doorway immediately grinned and surrounded her, instantly filling the small woodshed with shadows and completely blocking all her escape routes.

Despair, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed Fangru's heart.

Just as she closed her eyes and was about to give up struggling, a cold and calm voice rang out, strangely overwhelming the chaos:

"I advise you not to touch her."

Everyone paused, looking in the direction of the sound.

Zhou Ling had stood up at some point and was still leaning against the wall, his expression indifferent, as if stating a perfectly ordinary fact.

The henchman spat, "Pah! You think you're the emperor? You can't even protect yourself, yet you want to play the hero and save the damsel in distress?"

Zhou Ling didn't even lift his eyelids, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather: "She has a terrible disease. Touching her would cause it to fester and rot, beyond cure. Otherwise, why do you think I haven't touched her yet?"

He paused, then added, his voice carrying a perfectly timed, chilling regret, "He valued his life."

The dirty hand reaching for Fangru suddenly stopped in mid-air.

A flicker of surprise crossed the henchman's face, but it was quickly replaced by a stronger desire and rage: "Bullshit! Trying to fool me? I'll show you what's what today..."

Fangru's heart jumped into her throat.

Looking at the figure who had stepped forward, a ridiculous hope welled up in her heart. Why did he suddenly speak again?

But this hope was quickly swallowed up by even greater fear. How could he, a prisoner, unarmed, possibly defeat these burly men?

By doing this, he was essentially throwing an egg against a rock! The end result would probably only be to enrage these people and subject her to even more cruel treatment... She could almost see herself being restrained while he was being brutally beaten to the ground, a helpless scene.

Just as this desperate tug was about to tear her apart.

"If you insist on courting death, I won't stop you." Zhou Ling interrupted him, his voice still flat, yet carrying an invisible pressure. "Or, how about a more interesting game?"

He slowly raised his eyes, but his gaze didn't fall on the henchmen. Instead, it passed over them and precisely caught Fangru's terrified and bewildered look.

Those eyes were unfathomable, containing neither fear nor anger, only an almost cruel calmness and a hint of...indescribable, dark light. They seemed to be silently telling her: Don't be afraid, or perhaps, something even more chilling.

His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, like cold fingertips brushing across it, sending a shiver down her spine.

His gaze was complex and difficult to decipher; it contained scrutiny, a deeply hidden desire for control, and even a faint hint of strange interest aroused by the chaotic scene.

Fangru's breath caught in her throat. He stared at her so boldly and directly that she froze on the spot, forgetting her fear and only feeling a pounding in her heart.

Immediately, Zhou Ling shifted his gaze to the henchmen, a faint yet alluring smile curving his lips: "Hit people? You know how? Hit me. I won't fight back. Think about it, the 'Emperor' becoming your punching bag, letting you kick and punch him at will. The thrill of being above the highest authority... can't be compared to sleeping with a woman?"

These words seemed to possess a magical power, instantly striking at the darkest vanity and tyranny within those henchmen.

But to beat up an emperor?

Even for a fallen emperor, the thought was too terrifying, causing them to instinctively hesitate and feel fear.

The excitement on the leader's face froze for a moment, then turned into suspicion and wariness: "...What tricks are you playing, kid? You really think I wouldn't dare?"

Upon hearing this, Zhou Ling was not afraid at all; instead, he chuckled very softly.

The laughter was devoid of warmth, containing only a knowing mockery and an unquestionable composure. "You only get one chance," he said calmly, even smiling as he took a half-step towards the door. "Let's go."

His overly calm, even cooperative, attitude dispelled the remaining doubts of his henchmen.

Perhaps this fallen emperor had simply come to terms with reality and wanted to protect himself through this humiliating means, or perhaps he was simply weary of life and seeking a fight? In their eyes, this twisted thought was actually quite reasonable.

"Damn it...you're smart to know what's good for you!" The burly man spat, finally making up his mind, a cruel excitement returning to his face. "Brothers, what are we waiting for? Let's invite our 'His Majesty' to the courtyard to stretch his muscles!"

Several henchmen immediately swarmed forward, roughly pushing and shoving Zhou Ling as he walked out.

Zhou Ling offered no resistance whatsoever, not even flinching, her obedience was chilling.

Fangru stood frozen in place, watching incredulously as Zhou Ling was pushed and shoved away by those henchmen. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, almost shattering her ribs.

He... he actually handed himself over to the thugs like that?

He's Zhou Ling!

He was the emperor who wouldn't allow anyone to touch even the hem of his robes, and whose mere glance could silence the entire court!

She knew his inherent arrogance and desire for control better than anyone else.

How could he possibly lower his unyielding head and offer himself up to violence, becoming a punching bag for others' amusement, for her, a woman who had just humiliated him?

This is absurd!

This terrified and confused her even more than his indifference.

He is definitely not the kind of person who would risk his life to save a damsel in distress; there must be a colder, more calculating purpose behind it.

Perhaps this is just the beginning of another, even crueler game for him?

She was left alone in the deathly silent woodshed, and an immense unease gripped her.

She lunged to the narrow crack in the door and peered out.

In the courtyard, Zhou Ling was surrounded by those people.

Punches and kicks rained down on his abdomen and back, each dull thud sending chills down his spine.

Someone punched him in the jaw. He jerked his head to the side, and a stinging trickle of blood instantly spilled from the corner of his lips, leaving a shocking red mark on his pale skin.

But he never resisted.

He didn't even utter a muffled groan of pain or plead for mercy.

He only occasionally raised his eyes during the breaks in the storm.

Those unfathomable eyes, cold, clear-headed, and even carrying a hint of cruel scrutiny, swept lightly over the perpetrator's face, which was contorted with excitement.

His gaze was terrifying; he didn't look like a prisoner being beaten, but rather like a judge silently memorizing every crime.

Occasionally, when a lackey meets this gaze, he feels a chill inexplicably and his movements unconsciously pause slightly.

After an unknown amount of time, the violence finally stopped.

The henchmen dispersed, grumbling and cursing, as if they had accomplished a feat worthy of praise.

Zhou Ling was carelessly thrown back onto the ground at the entrance of the woodshed, like a rag doll.

He was curled up, his clothes disheveled, stained with dust and blood, and his breathing was so weak that it was almost invisible.

Fangru's heart clenched, and her throat tightened.

An inexplicable impulse made her want to kneel down beside him and wipe away the bloodstains with her fingers.

But her feet seemed to be nailed to the spot, and she could only watch helplessly as Zhou Ling slowly raised his eyes.

Those deep eyes captured her perfectly; there was no pain, no pleading, only a calm, dark stillness, as if the person who had just experienced the violence was someone else.

However, beneath that calm, something unspoken and intense seemed to be surging within, causing Fangru to feel a restless heat and palpitations.

She felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze, as if invisible threads were binding her.

She forced herself to lower her voice, masking her inner panic: "You were the one who suggested getting beaten up... It has nothing to do with me. Don't expect me to thank you." Her voice, when it came out, carried a hint of hoarseness that she herself didn't even realize.

Zhou Ling did not answer.

He suddenly propped himself up, a movement that engaged the muscles in his back and abdomen, the smooth, explosive lines of which were faintly visible beneath his tattered clothes.

Despite his injuries, his movements were like those of a lazy yet dangerous leopard, full of power.

He quickly moved to the doorway, intently scrutinizing the outside world. His profile was hard and cold, with bloodstains still visible on his jaw, yet he exuded a powerful aura that blended pain, danger, and extreme calm.

Fangru stared blankly at his sudden transformation, at the stark contrast between the strength he displayed and the scars on his body. Her previous worry was instantly replaced by a more turbulent and complex emotion—a resentment at being deceived, mixed with an uncontrollable, intensely drawn-in thrill.

"You...you weren't injured that badly at all!" she blurted out, her voice trembling slightly from the emotional turmoil. "You were just faking your weakness! Were you trying to make me feel guilty?"

Zhou Ling didn't even turn around, still listening intently to the sounds outside the door, only a very faint, almost mocking smile appeared on the corner of her lips.

"Guilt?" His deep voice, hoarse from recent pain, tickled the eardrums like a feather. "You overestimate yourself, Miss Shen."

Fangru was enraged by his dismissive attitude: "You! Who were you trying to impress by acting half-dead? To gain the sympathy of those scumbags?"

"Heh." Zhou Ling finally turned half his face to the side, his jawline, still wet with blood, taut, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes. "Of course, it's to fool idiots. It seems the effect is even better than expected; it even fooled everyone in the room."

Fangru was furious, her cheeks slightly flushed: "You're the idiot! The idiot who lets everyone beat him up!"

"It's better than being a fool who's been stripped naked and bullied." Zhou Ling turned around, his tone calm but deadly. "Or, do you prefer the original 'game'?"

These words were like a needle, precisely piercing Fangru's arrogance, leaving her speechless for a moment, her face turning red and white in turns.

As if that wasn't enough, Zhou Ling slowly added, his gaze returning to the crack in the door, his tall figure exuding an infuriating composure: "Be quiet. If you really can't stand being idle, why don't you think about how to find something useful from that pile of sand in the corner?"

Fangru was about to retort when she saw Zhou Ling slowly take something out of his pocket. It was a small bag made of coarse hemp, with the opening slightly open, revealing a grayish-white powder with some impurities inside.

He casually tossed it onto the hay between the two of them, a few grains of powder scattering out, and a faint, unique smell of smoke immediately filled the air.

"I swiped it from some idiot when I was getting beaten up." Zhou Ling said calmly, as if he were talking about the weather. "The Baiyang Society members often fight outside and are used to carrying some coarse saltpeter powder with them. They can use it to stop bleeding and heal sores when they get injured, although the effect is very crude."

He raised his eyes, and despite his bruised and disheveled face, his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, gleaming with calculation, composure, and an unwavering confidence in control.

His gaze swept over the pile of dry straw in the corner of the woodshed and the sturdy wooden door lock.

“But now, it has a different use.” He picked up a bit of powder with his fingertips. “Use hollow hay as a thin rope, fill it with saltpeter powder, and then stuff it into the keyhole.” His voice was deep, with an undeniable certainty. “As long as someone outside tries to unlock it with a key, the friction inside the lock cylinder is enough to ignite it. If you’re lucky, it can not only break the key and damage the lock cylinder, but it can even injure someone, keeping them busy for a while.”

He paused, his gaze falling on Fangru. "Or, to be more direct, when they get closer, throw this powder at them. A little spark will be enough to keep them busy."

“Now,” the faint smile on his lips deepened, tinged with blood, making it appear both dangerous and alluring, “the game has only just begun.”