Chapter Thirty-One: Bargaining Chips

Chapter Thirty-One: Bargaining Chips

Within the room, scented with the fragrance of orchids, moans rose and fell in waves, weaving together with heavy breaths—sometimes faint, sometimes piercing—into a strangely beautiful symphony in the stillness of the night.

On a spacious, warm bed, beneath a light silk quilt, two naked figures, a man and a woman, were entwined in abandon. Yet, it was not the usual dominance of man over woman; rather, the roles were reversed, and it appeared instead as though the woman was ravaging the man.

“Ah, ah, louder!” The woman wielded a leather whip, bringing it down on the man’s body, lost in a frenzy akin to intoxication. Had Hu Mo witnessed this scene, he would have been utterly dumbfounded—never had he imagined there could be such wild debauchery in this world.

Soon, after a crescendo of cries and a long, drawn-out gasp, the two clung tightly together. The woman, thoroughly sated, panted as she slowly licked the welts on the man’s body, savoring each moment.

The man, despite grimacing in pain, still wore a sycophantic smile as he spoke, “Your Highness, your whip feels so good. These past days, I’ve missed you so much, it nearly drove me mad.”

As he spoke, his fingers played with the woman’s chest, letting her tongue trail across his skin, drawing forth sighs of pleasure.

Suddenly, the woman flashed a wicked grin, swung her whip again, and lashed him, eliciting a sharp scream. He instinctively grabbed her breast in retaliation.

“Ah! You scoundrel, Situ Jie! Do you want to die? You hurt me!” she shrieked, bringing the whip down once more. He immediately let go and rolled away, not daring to show a hint of anger.

“Situ Jie, didn’t you just say you enjoyed being whipped? If you weren’t the best at serving me, I’d beat you to death right now,” she snarled. From her tone, it was clear she saw Situ Jie as nothing more than a vessel for her desires.

Situ Jie dared not show the slightest trace of resentment. This woman was his golden goose—his talisman of survival. He handled her with nothing but the utmost care.

Zhu Xinluo, Grand Princess of the Tianhuo Empire, was even more favored by Emperor Zhu Yan than Zhu Xinyue. Yet, the reason for his affection was far from simple: it lay in the background of Zhu Xinluo’s mother. Consort Lan was the eldest princess of the Shenmu Empire, Tianhuo’s staunchest ally and a force Zhu Yan deeply valued. Because of this, Consort Lan was showered with favor, and, by association, Zhu Xinluo was indulged to excess.

Zhu Xinluo was undeniably beautiful, her figure and looks beyond reproach. However, her reputation within the imperial clan was the worst—debauched by nature, with over a dozen male concubines.

Situ Jie, seeking greater power, willingly became her plaything. Fortunately for him, he possessed a handsome face and considerable skill in bed, placing him among her favored companions.

Recently, Situ Jie had been bedridden with injuries for several days, which had frustrated Zhu Xinluo deeply. Even after seeking pleasure with other lovers, she remained unsatisfied. Unable to control herself, she sought out the not-yet-fully-recovered Situ Jie, finally finding true fulfillment.

“You’re right, Your Highness. I got a bit carried away just now. Please forgive me…” Ignoring his pain, Situ Jie hurried to massage her shoulders, eager to please.

Zhu Xinluo gave a soft hum of satisfaction, closed her eyes, and smiled faintly. “I heard you and your dashing brother both suffered a setback at the hands of that Hu family good-for-nothing. Is it true?”

At the mention of Situ Feng, Zhu Xinluo licked her lips unconsciously, like a wildcat scenting prey. Clearly, she had coveted that prize for some time.

Hearing Hu Mo’s name, Situ Jie’s anger flared, but with Zhu Xinluo present, he had nowhere to vent it.

“Your Highness, it’s absolutely true. But the Hu household later claimed that brat was suddenly possessed. No wonder—without being possessed, how could he have been so bold?” Situ Jie gritted his teeth, considering it the greatest humiliation of his life.

“Possessed? That might fool a simpleton like you, but not me,” Zhu Xinluo laughed, cleaning herself with a towel before donning a sheer robe.

“Not possessed? Your Highness, you mean…” Situ Jie was bewildered. He knew that though Zhu Xinluo was wanton, her mind was sharp and ruthless—one reason she had so many lovers.

Zhu Xinluo drew her long nails lightly across Situ Jie’s face, smiling as she said, “Curious? Figure it out yourself. I know how you feel, Situ Jie. You’d love to kill that useless wretch for revenge, wouldn’t you?”

“Exactly! I want to feed that bastard to the dogs. If I don’t avenge this, I’ll never hold my head high again! Your Highness, help me—help me kill him,” Situ Jie pleaded, looking at her with desperate hope.

At this, Zhu Xinluo burst into laughter. She patted his face, rose from the bed, and strolled to her vanity.

“Calling you a fool is no exaggeration. Has your brother gone for revenge yet? I suspect he’s buried the matter deep, waiting for his moment. That’s the difference between you and him. Those who achieve great things aren’t hindered by trifles. Besides, Hu Mo’s recent actions are suspicious, and many are watching him. If anything happens to him now, the first suspect will be your Situ family. Hu Yihu may be loyal to the royal house, but push him too far and he’ll do anything. If it comes to that, your family will be wiped out first.”

As she spoke, Zhu Xinluo nonchalantly applied her makeup before a bronze mirror.

Situ Jie collapsed on the bed, sweat beading on his face and body. She was right—if Hu Yihu ever lost control, Situ Jie would be the first scapegoat. After Hu Meng’s incident, Hu Yihu had gone on a rampage, exterminating many families in Flame City under the guise of hunting traitors. If anything happened to Hu Mo, Hu Yihu would likely choose mutually assured destruction. An enraged lion is the most terrifying of all.

Zhu Xinluo glanced over at Situ Jie, now a puddle of nerves, and admired his soft yet impressive physique. She approached, gripped him firmly, and took him into her mouth, her nimble tongue working skillfully.

Situ Jie shivered all over, about to speak, but a delicate hand covered his mouth.

“Don’t worry, as long as you please me, I’ll find a way for you. When has this princess ever broken a promise?” Zhu Xinluo said with a lascivious smile, wiping the white liquid from her lips.

Roused once more by her touch, Situ Jie’s body responded eagerly. Zhu Xinluo’s notorious lust was well deserved. The spring air, which had barely begun to fade, grew thick again in the room. The crack of the whip, the cries and moans, all rose anew in the night.

Meanwhile, in the great mansion of the Hu family, Hu Mo looked at the assembled guards with a sly smile, as if he were appraising a group of naked women.

Steward Fu stood by Hu Mo’s side, his face wreathed in a gentle smile. The guards, however, stood cold and stern, shooting Hu Mo looks of utter disdain, as if he were a pile of dung.

Naturally, Hu Mo noticed these hostile glances, but he said nothing for now, instead scrutinizing each guard, his eyes seemingly piercing flesh, bone, and soul. These were the bargaining chips he intended to claim from Hu Yihu.

The Fire God Army—Tianhuo’s most formidable force—was the empire’s pride, and the envy of the other four kingdoms.

This time, Hu Yihu had truly paid a price, holding multiple selection tournaments to draw out one hundred and eight battle-hardened veterans from the Fire God Army.

They trusted no other force. These soldiers had fought alongside Hu Yihu and Hu Meng for more than a decade, the true elite of the Hu clan. Zhu Yan’s wariness of Hu Yihu stemmed largely from the existence of the Fire God Army. Its command was never in Zhu Yan’s hands; it was Hu Yihu’s private force, undefeated in battle—a divine army that had always inspired imperial suspicion.

Each of these men radiated the battlefield aura unique to the Fire God Army. Every time Hu Mo met their eyes, he felt intense pressure. They were all simmering with anger—their army’s glory stripped away, their military ranks removed. Now, they stood as mere guards, being sized up by a notorious fop as if he were inspecting war beasts or prostitutes—a humiliation hard to endure.

“Not bad at all!” Hu Mo suddenly exclaimed with a grin, digging in his nose and flicking out several bits of dried mucus.

The soldiers’ faces darkened, as if death itself had arrived. Hu Mo’s every move chilled them to the core; to their minds, their lives were effectively over.

“I imagine you’re all feeling rather stifled. Once, you basked in great honor—as the elite of the Fire God Army. Now, your ranks are stripped, and you’re sent here as guards. I’d be upset too,” Hu Mo said, his smile never fading. Watching these men squirm as he twisted the knife, he seemed to relish their discomfort.

At his words, the soldiers’ tempers flared. They were already disgruntled, and now, being taunted like this, how could they possibly tolerate it?

“Hah! Getting angry, are you? So you’ve still got some blood left in you! Fine—get angry if you want, throw a fit, even roll on the ground and weep in front of me. I won’t stop you. Because in my eyes, you have nothing to be proud of—you’re nothing but a bunch of failures!” Hu Mo sneered, and one hundred and eight pairs of eyes widened in fury.