Yun Zhongyue nearly fainted: "Stop it!"
Yan Xuehen's usually serene face now showed an unusual excitement: "Hey, it feels really good. No wonder you used to hit me every now and then."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a few more slaps landed on his face.
Yun Zhongyue was truly filled with shame and indignation, mainly because the contrast was just too great. Just a second ago, she was excitedly planning to beat Yan Xuehen up to relieve the itch she had been feeling for these past few days.
She never expected that she would be the one being beaten up by the other party. This reversal of roles made her senses exceptionally sensitive.
"How exactly did you recover?" Yun Zhongyue tried to distract her, telling her to stop hitting him, as her backside was burning.
"Want to know? Beg me!" Yan Xuehen felt incredibly free and joyful, even more so than when she broke through to the Grandmaster level, only a few days ago in the Great Snow Mountain...
Thinking of this, her face flushed. Why was she thinking about that guy?
To cover up her shame, she raised her hand and gave Yun Zhongyue another good beating.
Yun Zhongyue was almost dizzy. She used to enjoy bullying Bing Shi Nu, but she never expected to be beaten up like this.
Seeing that the other person seemed to be getting more and more excited, she panicked a little and decided to soften her stance first to get through this ordeal, and then settle the score with her properly after she regained her freedom: "Okay, I really want to know, even if I beg you, how did you recover so quickly?"
After fighting with her for so many years, this was the first time Yan Xuehen had ever seen her back down in front of him. It was as satisfying as eating a ginseng fruit.
"What do you mean by begging me? That's not sincere at all, it doesn't count!" she snorted.
Yun Zhongyue felt an itch, but being from the Demonic Sect, she knew how to be flexible. When you're under someone's roof, you have to bow your head. So she gritted her teeth and said, "I beg you, tell me how you recovered so quickly?"
Seeing her angry but helpless expression, Yan Xuehen smiled slightly: "Your voice is too soft, I can't hear you."
"Ice Stone Woman, you did this on purpose!" Yun Zhongyue said angrily. With their skills, they could hear even a mosquito talking clearly at such close range, so how could she not hear it?
"I said I can't hear you, and that's it. What, you have a problem with that?" Yan Xuehen slapped her again, watching her tremble and shudder. She thought to herself that this vixen was quite perky.
"Fine, I beg you, did you hear me this time?" Yun Zhongyue raised her voice. She was genuinely curious, because people of their cultivation level generally wouldn't get injured, but once injured, it would be difficult to recover quickly.
She knew very well the injuries Yan Xuehen had suffered before; they wouldn't heal in a year or two, let alone just a few days.
Seeing that she had begged her several times, Yan Xuehen raised an eyebrow, a sly glint in her beautiful eyes: "I heard you, but why should I tell you?"
Her injuries healed so quickly, all thanks to that strange martial art of Zu'an.
Healing wounds? The method of healing wounds was so shameful that she would never tell anyone, even if you beat her to death.
Cloud Moon: "???"
It took her a while to realize she'd been tricked: "Ice Stone Woman, when did you become so cunning? You've never lied before!"
"I really didn't lie. I only said that if you want to know, you can ask me, but I never said that if you ask me, I will tell you." Yan Xuehen's face was slightly red as she spoke. Actually, she wouldn't have been like this before, but a few days ago, Zu An taught her how to make every word true, but put them together to form a lie. She found that she couldn't go back to that way.
Yun Jianyue was taken aback. When did that blockhead Ice Stone Woman learn such tricks? Could it be that she's been spending time with Zu An these past few days...?
Just then, another slap landed, the burning pain quickly stopping her from thinking, and she angrily cursed the other person.
The harsher her insults, the harder Yan Xuehen beat her. She still vividly remembered the humiliation of being beaten by him back then, so he wouldn't let her off so easily.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Zu An's voice rang out: "What are you doing? It looks like you're slaughtering a pig..."
Upon seeing the scene inside the room—a vast expanse of white, and that mysterious absolute domain—Zu An was speechless, completely petrified.
Yan Xuehen and Yun Zhongyue were also stunned; they never expected to attract Zu An's attention.
Yan Xuehen was in a daze. She had been beaten by Yun Zhongyue in the same way, with her skirt pulled off and her knees pressed down. Zu An, who was hiding in the shadows, had seen everything. Even though the two had already had the most intimate physical contact, she was still so ashamed when she thought of the scene that she wished she could disappear into a crack in the ground.
Yun Zhongyue's head throbbed. Normally, she was aloof and domineering, looking down on the world. But today, a man had seen her in such a shameful and private state. If it were anyone else, they would at most kill them to silence them, or if they were really angry, they would grind their bones to ashes.
But Zuan cannot be killed. Regardless of his relationship with Hong Lei or his relationship with himself, it is impossible to kill him.
Ugh, I'm so ashamed I can't face anyone now!
Yan Xuehen finally realized what was happening, pulled the blanket over her bottom which still bore many red handprints, and then coughed lightly: "Why didn't you knock before coming in?"
Zuan reacted quickly: "Huh, could it be that something went wrong with my recent training? Why can't I see anything in front of me now..."
As he spoke, he reached out and touched things in front of him, looking exactly like a blind man. To make it more realistic, he even "accidentally" bumped into a doorpost. He then groped his way out the door and thoughtfully closed it behind him.
Yan Xuehen chuckled. This guy really knows how to act.
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