A deep, pounding ache was the first thing to pierce Xiao Wu's consciousness. Her head felt like it had been kicked by an Armored Rhino. She groaned, her body heavy, her limbs like lead.
She opened her eyes. This was not the familiar, rough-hewn ceiling of the Shrek Academy dorms. This was… opulent. A high, vaulted ceiling painted with clouds, a soft, expensive-looking rug beneath her, the air thick with the faint, unfamiliar scent of sandalwood.
"What… where am I?!" she cried out, her voice raspy.
She tried to sit up, and that's when she felt them.
Thick, crimson vines were wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, and her waist, pinning her to the floor. They were the same vines from the arena, pulsing with a faint, dark light, and they felt… alive.
"Aaargh!" She struggled, pulling against the bonds. They were like steel, unyielding. Worse, with every pull, she felt her own spirit power drain away, as if the vines were drinking her strength.
"Teleportation!" she commanded, her mind in a panic. Her third spirit ring flashed, but nothing happened. She was still pinned to the floor.
"Waist Bow! Soft Bones!" She tried to activate her other abilities. Nothing. Her connection to her spirit felt sluggish, choked. "My spirit... I can't activate my abilities!"
She recognized the vines. That crimson color. That terrifying, devouring aura.
"Zhang Tian!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the large, empty chamber. "You bastard! Where are you?! Let me go! I know you can hear me!"
She screamed, she cursed, she struggled, but it was useless. The vines held her fast.
An hour passed. Or maybe it was two. Time blurred in the silent, luxurious prison. Her initial, furious struggles gave way to a cold, rising fear. She was alone. She was powerless. And she was in the den of her greatest enemy.
'Tang San…' she thought, her eyes filling with tears. 'Boss Mubai… Rongrong… where are you? Please… somebody…'
The heavy, carved wooden door opened with a soft, almost silent click.
Zhang Tian walked in. He wasn't in his battle uniform. He was in a simple, elegant set of dark robes, his hair unbound. He looked as calm and as casual as if he were walking into his own study. He was holding a glass of dark red wine.
The sight of his calm, handsome face sent a new wave of pure, unadulterated fury through her.
"You bastard!" she shrieked, renewing her struggles, the vines cutting into her skin. "Let me go! What do you want?! Tang San will kill you for this! My friends will find me! They'll tear this place apart! You'll regret bringing me here! I swear it!"
Zhang Tian just smiled. It was an amused, almost gentle expression. He walked over, the sound of his soft, leather boots silent on the thick rug. He crouched down beside her, bringing his face close to hers.
"My, my," he said, his voice a low, soft purr. "Such a foul mouth on such a pretty little thing. All that kicking and screaming. You really are more a beast than a person, aren't you?"
He reached out, his free hand tracing the line of her jaw. His touch was light, but it made her skin crawl.
"I took you as a trophy, little rabbit," he said, his smile widening. "A prize. A little, breathing reminder to your precious 'Brother San' of his failure. Every day he wakes up and you're not there… that will be a wound far deeper than any poison."
"He'll find me!" she spat, trying to twist her head away from his touch. "And he'll kill you!"
"Will he?" Zhang Tian chuckled. "I doubt that. But," he continued, his voice dropping to a low purr, "while I was holding you on the stage... I realized something."
His hand moved from her jaw, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. "You are very soft. Very... nice to hold."
He leaned in, his face just inches from hers. "I don't love you, of course. You're not my type. You're too… noisy. But... playing with you? That's not out of the question."
Before Xiao Wu could even process his words, before she could unleash a new string of curses, he leaned down. He kissed her.
Her mind exploded. A white-hot flash of pure, uncomprehending shock.
His lips were on hers. His tongue, a thing she hadn't even considered, was skillfully, forcefully, parting her own. He pushed her back against the floor, his body half-pinning her, his free hand sliding under her simple, green Shrek uniform.
His fingers, warm and possessive, splayed across the soft, delicate skin of her midriff, his thumb brushing against the rim of her navel.
'No… No, no, no… he… he's…' Her mind was a silent scream. This was a violation. A desecration. Her lips, her mouth… they were for Tang San. Only for Tang San. She had only ever kissed him, his shy, gentle pecks. This was… this was…
A frantic, primal terror gave way to a surge of pure, animalistic fury. She thrashed, her body bucking against his, trying to bite his tongue, to twist her head away. But he was a Spirit King. His strength was a mountain. He held her easily, his hand on her stomach a possessive, burning brand, his mouth a dominant, conquering force.
'I will kill him. I will kill him. I will kill him!' The thought was a single, repeating, murderous mantra in her mind.
He finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. He looked down at her, at her tear-filled, hate-filled eyes. He just smiled.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" she screamed, her voice a raw, broken sound. "I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU!"
Zhang Tian's smile faded. His expression turned cold, as if a mask had been dropped. "If you continue to resist," he said, his voice flat, "if you continue to be so... loud... I will simply send you back to your pathetic academy."
Xiao Wu froze. Her curses died in her throat. 'He'll… he'll let me go?' A small, desperate flicker of hope ignited in her chest.
"And then," Zhang Tian continued, his voice a quiet, devastating whisper that shattered her hope into a million tiny, icy fragments, "I will announce to the entire world, starting with the Spirit Hall, that the Shrek Academy is harboring a transformed, one-hundred-thousand-year-old spirit beast. And that killing you will grant the lucky hunter a red spirit ring. And a red spirit bone."
The world, for Xiao Wu, just stopped. The blood drained from her face. Her heart, which had been pounding with rage, turned to a block of ice.
"How...?" she whispered, her voice a tiny, broken sound, all the fight, all the fury, gone in an instant. "How... did you know...?"
She thought of the herb Tang Hao had given her. The herb that was supposed to be flawless. The herb that was supposed to protect her. A lie. It had all been a lie.
Her mind raced, not for herself, but for them. For Shrek. For her friends. For Tang San.
If this secret got out… the academy, a place that had become her home… it would be besieged. Every Titled Douluo, every ambitious Spirit Master, every greedy clan in the world would descend upon them, a tide of pure, unstoppable greed.
And Tang San. Her 'Brother San'. He would try to protect her. He would fight for her. He would die for her. And he would die for nothing, torn apart by a horde of hunters, all seeking her ring, her bone.
"You are not qualified to know how I know," Zhang Tian said, his voice cold. "You are only qualified to obey."
He leaned in again, his face close to hers. "So, this is how it will be, little rabbit," he continued, his voice a low, final command. "You will stay here. You will be my obedient little pet. You will be my research subject. You will do as I say. You will not fight me. You will not curse me. And in return... your secret remains safe. And your pathetic little 'Brother San' gets to live. For now."
He leaned down again. He kissed her.
This time, her body was limp, her mind a frozen, hollow void of pure, abject terror. She didn't resist. She couldn't.
He pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face. 'Step one: break her will. Complete.' He thought, 'Now, for step two. Observe the ring generation. And step three… have a little fun. Tang San's most precious, pure little lover… I wonder how she'll sound when I finally make her scream my name.'
He slowly, deliberately, unwrapped the crimson vines that bound her. Xiao Wu didn't move. She just lay there, trembling.
And then, his hands, no longer gentle, no longer teasing, grabbed the collar of her simple, green Shrek uniform.
RIIIP!
He tore it apart with a single, violent motion. He stared at her, at her trembling, exposed form, at the soft, pale skin of her stomach and the swell of her small, budding breasts. His smile returned, a cold, predatory light in his eyes.
'Breaking Tang San's lover,' he thought, his gaze sweeping over her. 'This is, in its own way, a victory more satisfying than the one on the stage.'
He looked at her, at the pure, terrified tears that were now streaming down her face. And he felt… a flicker of boredom. The fight was gone. The spirit was broken. It was too easy.
'Making her fear it will be far more pleasurable than just taking it,' he decided. The chase was always the best part. For now, he had other, more willing, entertainment.
He stood up, leaving her a naked, weeping, broken thing on the floor. He turned and walked out of the chamber, locking the door behind him. He would let her stew in her own terror. It would make the eventual prize all the sweeter.
He walked down the silent, elegant hallways of his estate, the adrenaline from the battle—from the victory, from the crippling of his rival, from the abduction of his rival's lover—finally beginning to fade, replaced by a different kind of fire. His lust, stoked by the power of the confrontation and the raw, primal satisfaction of breaking his enemies, was a burning heat in his veins. He went to his own private chambers.
He had expected to find Ah Yin. It was her night, according to the schedule they all playfully kept.
He opened the door. And he stopped.
His breath caught.
Ah Yin was there, her crimson hair a cascade over her shoulders. But she was not alone. Beside her, her dark, beautiful face alight with a shy, but determined, excitement, was Zhu Zhuqing.
"Zhuqing?" he asked, a note of pleasant surprise in his voice. He hadn't expected her.
Zhu Zhuqing blushed, a faint pink on her usually pale cheeks. "I... I kept track," she said, her voice a low murmur. "I knew it was your night with Sister Ah Yin. And I... I wanted to join you."
Ah Yin just smiled, a warm, indulgent expression. She glided forward, her movements a silent, sinuous dance. "Our Emperor works so hard," she purred, her voice a low, melodic sound as she straightened the collar of his robe. "I thought he might appreciate... extra companionship. A special reward for his grand victory."
Zhang Tian's gaze swept over them, and he felt that fire in his veins roar to life. They were dressed. Not in their usual, elegant robes. But in the outfits he had designed for them, the ones from his memories, the ones he had given them as a "joke."
Ah Yin was wearing a tight, white school shirt, its buttons done up all the way to her throat, a picture of pure, modest innocence. But the shirt was stretched taut over the magnificent, heavy swell of her breasts, the fabric straining as if in protest. A short, plaid skirt, a design she had found baffling but wore at his command, barely covered her wide, womanly hips and long, elegant legs. The contrast between her mature, motherly aura and the impossibly coy, girlish outfit was a thing of pure, incendiary art.
Zhu Zhuqing was her opposite. She was dressed as the "boss." A crisp, white, and impossibly tight-fitting office uniform was stretched to its absolute limit over her own breathtakingly voluptuous body. The shirt was open at the collar, her top two buttons undone, a clear, defiant show of her magnificent cleavage, her black, lacy bra visible. And the mini-skirt… it was a tiny, postage-stamp-sized piece of black fabric that did nothing to hide the powerful, curvaceous swell of her buttocks and long, athletic legs.
"Well," Zhang Tian said, his voice a low, appreciative growl. "It seems I am a very lucky man."
He entered the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The faint, terrified sobs of the girl in the other room were a distant, forgotten echo. He was here, with his real women.
Ah Yin was the first to move. She glided towards him, a shy, playful look in her crimson eyes. She gave him a small, respectful bow, a perfect imitation of a shy, innocent student, her hands clasped nervously behind her back.
"Um... Professor Zhang Tian?" she whispered, her voice a soft, breathy sound. "I... I'm sorry to bother you so late... Am I interrupting your work?"
Zhang Tian played along instantly, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms. "Ah, Student Ah Yin. What seems to be the trouble? Is it your thesis on spirit grass mutation? I recall you were struggling with the final chapter."
Ah Yin blushed, her gaze dropping to the floor. She nervously twisted the hem of her ridiculously short skirt. "Yes, Professor. That's it. I... I'm just not getting it. The part about 'elemental infusion points.' It's so... so complicated." She looked up at him through her long, crimson lashes. "I was hoping… could you give me some private instruction? I'm... I'm really worried about my grade. I'm willing to… to do whatever it takes to pass."
"Whatever it takes?" Zhang Tian repeated, his voice a low purr. "That's a very strong statement for such a... diligent student." He pushed himself off the door and walked slowly towards her. "I am a very busy man, Student Ah Yin. My time is valuable."
"I know, Professor!" she said, her voice a little squeak as he stopped directly in front of her. "But I'll work extra hard! I'll... I'll bring you tea every morning! I'll... I'll do anything!"
"Anything?" He reached out, his hand moving slowly. He tucked a single, stray strand of crimson hair behind her ear, his fingers deliberately lingering on the soft, warm skin of her neck.
She flinched, her body going rigid, her blush deepening. "Professor! What... what are you doing?" Her voice was a scandalized whisper. "That's... that's not proper!"
"Proper?" he chuckled, his hand sliding down her arm, his fingers finding her hand. "I am simply... encouraging my most promising student. Now, let's go over the material." He led her to the large, plush sofa near the fireplace. "Sit. Let's begin the lesson."
She sat stiffly on the very edge of the cushion, her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped in her lap. "So... the infusion points... the textbook said they were spiritual nodes..."
"The textbook is for children," Zhang Tian said, sitting down next to her. He sat too close, his thigh pressing firmly against hers. She tried to inch away, but he was a mountain, unmoving.
"You see," he continued, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur, "true infusion is not a mental exercise. It's a... a physical application. It requires a connection."
His hand, which had been resting on the sofa behind her, now moved. It came to rest on her knee, his palm warm against her skin, just above the hem of her skirt. "The energy has to flow... from a source. Like this."
His hand began to slide up her thigh, his fingers a warm, possessive brand on her smooth, pale skin.
"Professor!" Ah Yin gasped, her voice a mixture of shock and a new, breathless anticipation. She grabbed his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "This… this is improper! You're touching my leg! What does this have to do with spirit origins?!"
"Everything," he whispered, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. "The spirit origin is the core of your being, is it not? It is a source of… warmth. Of… passion. To truly understand it, you must first... feel it."
His hand on her leg continued its slow, inexorable journey, his fingers brushing the delicate lace hem of her panties beneath the short skirt.
"No! Please, Professor!" she whimpered, her "innocent student" act now a beautiful, trembling reality. "This is... this is lewd! I... I'll report you to the Dean!"
"Will you?" he purred. "I think not. I think... you want this lesson just as much as I do."
He leaned in and kissed her. It was not a gentle, questioning kiss. It was a hard, demanding, and utterly dominant assault. He was the Professor, and this was his lesson.
Ah Yin struggled for a single, token moment, her hands pushing weakly against his chest, her muffled "Mmph!" a sound of pure, scandalized protest.
And then, with a long, shuddering sigh, she melted. Her hands, which had been pushing him away, now snaked around his neck, pulling him closer. Her mouth, which had been a fortress of indignant purity, now opened for him, her tongue meeting his in a deep, passionate, and anything but innocent, dance. She was a very, very fast learner.
"HEY!"
A new, sharp, and incredibly cold voice cut through the air, shattering the heated atmosphere of their "tutoring session."
Zhang Tian and Ah Yin broke apart. Ah Yin looked flustered, her face a beautiful, crimson red, her lips swollen and wet. She quickly tried to smooth her skirt, her eyes wide and "guilty."
Zhang Tian just smirked, a look of pure, unrepentant satisfaction on his face. He turned, slowly, to face the new threat.
Zhu Zhuqing was standing by his massive, carved desk, one hand on her hip, the other tapping an impatient, sharp rhythm on the wood. Her face was a mask of cold, imperious fury. Her tight, white shirt, with its open buttons, displayed the magnificent, heavy swell of her breasts, a clear, defiant show of her power and her absolute lack of fear. She looked every inch the angry, powerful boss.
"Just what do you two think you're doing?!" she snapped, her voice as cold as her ice abilities.
Ah Yin flinched, pulling her skirt down, her eyes darting between Zhang Tian and Zhu Zhuqing. "Boss Zhuqing! I... we... the Professor was just... helping me with my studies..."
"Studies?!" Zhu Zhuqing sneered, her gaze like a physical blow. "It looked like a different kind of 'physical application' to me! Subordinate Zhang Tian! Get over here! NOW!"
Zhang Tian let out a long, put-upon sigh. He stood up, deliberately taking his time, and sauntered over to the desk, his expression one of lazy, unrepentant arrogance. "Yes, Boss Zhuqing?" he asked, his voice a low, challenging drawl. "Can't you see I was in the middle of a very important... tutoring session? Student Ah Yin is at a critical juncture in her studies."
"Tutoring session?! On my time?!" Zhu Zhuqing slammed her hand flat on the desk, the sound a sharp crack in the quiet room. "You are three hours late for your final report on the tournament logistics, Subordinate! Three! Hours! And you completely, completely, missed the departmental meeting on the new spirit tool logistics! Do you have any idea how that makes me look?!"
"I'd say... it makes you look like you need a new subordinate?" Zhang Tian offered, a playful, challenging glint in his eyes.
"Don't get smart with me!" she hissed. "My head is pounding, my entire schedule is a mess, and it is all your fault!" She leaned in, her magnificent cleavage front and center, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "And... and you! You didn't even bother to... service me this morning! I have been walking around all day, my spirit power completely unbalanced! My elements are in chaos! It's irresponsible! It's insubordination! What do you have to say for yourself?!"
"Service?" Zhang Tian purred, his own gaze dropping, lingering on the beautiful, pale skin of her exposed breasts. "Boss, I'm just a simple employee. I'm not sure that's in my job description."
"It's in your job description!" she snapped, her cheeks flushing with anger. "It is your primary, and most important, duty! And you have failed! Miserably! I ought to have you fired! I'll have you transferred to the Deep Sea Mithril mines! You'll be scraping barnacles off the hulls of transport ships for the rest of your pathetic, useless life!"
"You won't," he said, his voice a low, confident sound. He was too close now, his hand on the desk, caging her in, his body pressing against hers. He could feel the heat radiating from her.
"I... I won't?" she stammered, her arrogant mask faltering for a single, fractional second.
"No," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Because you need me. Because no one else can... balance your spirit power... quite like I can. And besides..."
He pulled back, his eyes gleaming. "...I think you like it when I'm disobedient."
He kissed her.
It was not the slow, seductive kiss he had given the "student." It was a rough, punishing, and utterly dominant assault. He grabbed her by the back of the head, his fingers tangling in her long, dark hair, and he devoured her mouth. He was the disobedient subordinate, and this was his punishment.
Zhu Zhuqing let out a genuine, angry sound in her throat. She struggled, her hands pushing against his chest. But her body, as it always did, betrayed her. The "anger" melted, replaced by a fire that was just as hot, but far more... primal. Her hands, which had been pushing him away, now grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer, her mouth answering his with a fierce, desperate hunger of her own.
It was then that Ah Yin, her role as the "shy student" completely forgotten, glided up behind them. She wrapped her arms around Zhang Tian's waist, her own magnificent, soft breasts pressing into his back.
"Professor... Boss..." she purred, her voice a low, husky sound. "Maybe... maybe we can all work overtime tonight? I'm... I'm still very confused about my... my 'infusion points'."
Zhang Tian broke the kiss with Zhu Zhuqing, his breathing heavy, his eyes blazing with a triumphant, lustful fire. He looked at the "student," her shirt still buttoned, but her face flushed, her lips swollen. And he looked at the "boss," her own face a beautiful, chaotic mess of anger and arousal.
"A rebellious student who needs to be taught a lesson..." he murmured, his gaze on Ah Yin.
"...and an insubordinate boss who needs to be put in her place," he finished, his gaze on Zhu Zhuqing.
A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "I think," he said, as he began to unfasten his own robes, "I am going to enjoy disciplining both of you."
He lunged, a happy, lust-filled growl in his throat. He grabbed Zhu Zhuqing, his hands finding the magnificent, round curve of her buttocks, and lifted her, throwing her onto the massive desk, scattering scrolls and reports in a chaotic, beautiful mess.
He then turned to Ah Yin, his hands finding the buttons of her "pure," white shirt.
"Lesson one, Student Ah Yin," he growled, as the first button popped free. "Always... pay... attention..."
The night of the victor had truly, finally, begun.
~~
A/N: Check out my new fanfic - Doupo: Plundering the Plot with God-Tier Comprehension (A BTTH Fanfic)