After Li Yantang left, Zaisang’s expression turned ugly in an instant, fury rising in his eyes.
He spun around quickly and stormed back to the main building, where he delivered a hard slap to Nie Zhenzhen’s face.
“Fucking useless piece of trash! Can’t even keep a man!” Zaisang’s face was vicious, his eyes fixed on Nie Zhenzhen as if he wanted to crush her on the spot.
The girl was stunned by the sudden slap, only reacting after a long moment as a searing pain spread across her cheek.
She covered her face with one hand, head hanging low, tears welling in her eyes—but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.
She knew that here, her tears were worthless, and would only enrage the murderous madman before her.
“Someone, take her down and give her the train!” He barked the order at his men behind him.
Just as the subordinates stepped forward to drag the girl toward the special room, Zaisang waved his hand, his expression easing slightly, his tone turning more cautious. “Hold on! Take her away for now—let me think carefully about how to arrange things.”
Nie Zhenzhen could hear her own pulse pounding, her breathing rapid and uneasy, clearly still shaken and terrified.
The girl was brought back to the torture room and strapped to the examination bed.
She looked up at the white ceiling, the fear in her eyes not yet fully faded. She couldn’t bear to imagine what that madman Zaisang would do to her next.
……
Inside the main building of the stilted house
“Master Sang, I think you should keep her for yourself. This one’s fresh and clean—she’ll taste delicious.” The close attendant beside him licked his lips, wearing a fawning expression.
“Ha, too skinny. Holding her would feel like hugging a bag of bones. Besides, I prefer mature women. That kind of naive little innocent—in bed, she’d be barely better than a wooden log.” Zaisang sneered dismissively.
“Well… Master, how about letting us boys have a taste? Consider it a reward for the brothers!” Another attendant behind him flashed a lewd grin.
“Such a fine piece of goods, wasted on you lot—what a shame…” Zaisang propped his chin on one hand, eyes tilted upward at a forty-five-degree angle, pondering thoughtfully.
After a moment, it seemed he’d hit upon an idea. The corner of his mouth curled upward involuntarily, revealing a satisfied smile.
“Send her to the auction house. Those private big shots all have special tastes—this kind of pure, innocent flower will definitely suit their appetites!” Zaisang’s eyes gleamed with dangerous, cunning amusement.
“Master Sang’s idea is brilliant!”
“As expected of Master Sang—only you could think of this.”
“That little girl’s in for it now. Those big shots’ twisted methods are beyond anything we could imagine!”
“Exactly. The more polished they look on the surface, the filthier their games behind closed doors.”
The attendants behind him chattered excitedly, their faces full of lecherous, oily glee.
“Then get to it! Every day we delay, I lose money!” Zaisang kicked each of his men in turn, urging them on harshly.
Soon, Nie Zhenzhen’s delicate frame was roughly dragged by two guards like a lifeless object and tossed into a white van. Her hands and feet were bound with leather restraints, and a dirty rag was shoved into her mouth, stifling all her cries and pleas into muffled, broken whimpers. A black hood was yanked over her head, instantly robbing her of all sight.
That man, radiating such cold, hard energy, had ultimately never taken a liking to her…
Nie Zhenzhen didn’t know whether to feel relieved… or distressed. The unknown road ahead filled her with intense fear and unease…
After what felt like an eternity, the van came to a stop before a magnificent private mansion.
The black hood was ripped off, and blinding daylight flooded in, stabbing unexpectedly into her eyes. Nie Zhenzhen instinctively furrowed her brow, her lashes trembling violently, then quickly squeezed her eyes shut, slender fingers instinctively shielding her face.
Only when she’d adjusted to the light did she slowly open her eyes.
What greeted the girl was an imposing, stately private residence adorned with gilded splendor. The front entrance was a heavy carved bronze door, flanked on either side by ancient stone sculptures. Above the lintel was engraved a luxurious gilded nameplate, exuding steady grandeur.
Before the girl could collect herself, the guard behind her shoved her forward impatiently.
Passing through the heavy carved bronze doors, the interior of the mansion unfolded before her—every corner radiating the utmost tranquility and luxury.
The ceiling soared high overhead, with warm golden crystal chandeliers hanging down, scattering delicate halos of light across the space, infusing the very air with a warm, precious quality.
The walls were clad in dark solid wood paneling, their deep, weighty grain accented with dark gold lines and carved relief patterns—understated yet sharp-edged.
The floor was covered in soft wine-red velvet soundproof carpeting, absorbing every footstep. The entire space was so quiet you could hear your own breathing, subtly brewing an atmosphere of tension and solemnity.
A middle-aged man in a navy-blue suit approached, his shirt collar buttoned with meticulous precision, his tie neatly knotted. A pair of thin-framed gold-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and a faint, gentle smile lingered at the corners of his lips. His demeanor was refined and courteous.
Yet beneath his seemingly warm eyes lurked a deep, calculating cunning and a shadow of malice. The smile never reached his eyes—his civility was merely a mask.
The mere sight of him sent a chill through Nie Zhenzhen, making her shiver involuntarily on the spot.
“This must be Miss Nie. Truly delicate and charming, pure and beautiful,” the middle-aged man said in a cultured voice, offering praise without reservation.
He then glanced at the watch on his wrist and spoke slowly, “There’s about an hour before the special exhibit auction. Miss Nie may go to the backstage area to rest and prepare.”
With that, he snapped his fingers behind him, signaling the two bodyguards in black suits to “escort” the girl to the backstage lounge.
And so, in a state of utter shock, the girl was handed over to the bodyguards. She twisted and struggled with all her might, letting out muffled protests, but against absolute restraint and the disparity in size, her resistance was nothing more than a mantis trying to stop a chariot.