As he spoke, his gaze slowly moved downwards.
Noticing his deep, burning gaze, Nanzhi quickly reached out her other, unbound hand to try and cover her body.
But it was too late. He pinned her down, raised her wrists above her head, and tied them to the bedpost with a rope.
Shen Huaixu brought over a glass of wine, staring at her with a dangerous gaze.
He pried open her mouth and fed her the wine.
Nanzhi inevitably drank some.
Soon, she felt something was wrong with her body.
What did you feed me?
Shen Huaixu placed his wine glass on the table, his voice indifferent: "You're good at lying, so you were the one who had me given the Chinese medicine that time, weren't you?"
At the time, he did think it was Nan Yao who had done it, but after thinking about it carefully, he felt something was wrong.
Looking at Nan Zhi's somewhat guilty expression, he knew he had guessed correctly.
He swallowed the antidote pills prepared by the physician and sat there, drinking tea and watching her skin gradually turn pink, her eyes glazed over, and her groans of discomfort.
“Shen Huaixu, I think…”
He looked at her coldly: "I don't want to."
With her hands bound, she rubbed against him with her feet and body.
Her eyes were full of pleading: "Shen Huaixu, please give him to me?"
"Not good." Shen Huaixu calmly sipped his tea.
Nanzhi's eyes reddened.
Shen Huaixu forced himself to suppress the reluctance in his heart.
He looked at her and smiled maliciously: "Tell me, how should I punish you?"
"Should I throw you to a beggar on the street, or bestow you upon the soldiers of the army?"
Nan Zhi regained some of her composure. She stared into his eyes, which were filled with hatred for her, and suddenly smiled.
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