“I just want to know exactly how many questions I need to complete to free the hostages?” She felt like she was facing an immortal old monster, and sensed this person’s perversion exceeded even that old fiend’s.

The brocade-robed man said casually: “At least one question per person. Who told you to bring so many people?”

He spoke as if Jing Hengbo had forced them on him.

Jing Hengbo knew arguing with him would surely anger her to death, since his dictionary didn’t contain the words “reason” or “logic.” She could only roll her eyes and say: “Three questions?”

She had to confirm this first, or he might endlessly trap people. Having been repeatedly deceived by that old fiend, Jing Hengbo had developed wariness.

Thinking of the old fiend, she suddenly became distracted, wondering if he’d reached Da Yan yet. Who exactly was in Da Yan? She wondered if her sisters had found love—hopefully with ordinary men, common people preferably. Definitely not those with high positions and power who were exhausting and could wear someone to death in minutes, especially not high-ranking perverts like the one before her…

Of course, none of her sisters would be unlucky enough to encounter this particular specimen.

“Let’s tentatively set it at three questions,” the brocade-robed man said craftily, refusing to give her a definitive answer.

He didn’t necessarily intend to renege, but thought if he got really excited playing, how could he bear to let them go?

Jing Hengbo was helpless—what could she do? Her people were hostages in his hands.

“The first question,” the brocade-robed man said, as if afraid she wouldn’t play along, immediately pointing to the coffin: “This coffin is also called a ‘Double Human Figurine.’ The entire device has sixteen joint adjustment clasps. I’ll tell you how to open the clasps. If you can open it, you win.”

This simple? Jing Hengbo stared at him suspiciously.

“Of course, there’s a time limit,” the brocade-robed man added unhurriedly.

Jing Hengbo’s heart leaped with joy—damn, this fool didn’t know about her multi-directional telekinetic abilities. This question was as good as won!

Wildly elated inside, she put on a troubled expression, asking warily: “How long?”

The brocade-robed man glanced at her. Originally planning to set a moderate time limit—the first question shouldn’t be too difficult or he’d scare away his playmate—but seeing the woman’s troubled expression paired with overly bright eyes showing no pressure, his heart stirred. He said: “I’ll have people sprinkle aphrodisiac and poison from the coffin top. The drugs will enter through their nose and mouth, which takes some time. You complete the task within that timeframe. If you can’t, the clasps will reverse one by one, and you can enjoy the crisp sound of their bones and joints snapping section by section.”

Jing Hengbo cursed inwardly—this bastard must have been born without an asshole! What kind of trap question was this? Poison and such entering through gaps could be inhaled within minutes, right? Without her special ability, who in the world could complete this task?

But since she had this ability, it wasn’t a problem. Thinking of this guy’s smug satisfaction with his trap question, soon to have his eyes pop out, made her want to laugh heartily.

She suddenly had a thought—did this person really not know about her abilities at all? Though he seemed like an outsider, his tone when speaking to her wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

This time she was overthinking. The brocade-robed man truly didn’t know her abilities. After all, he’d only recently entered Dahuang Ze and had merely made simple inquiries about her situation after entering Shangyuan. On Shangyuan’s streets, she hadn’t displayed many abilities.

For the brocade-robed man, bothering to make even brief inquiries was already tremendous attention paid to her—humans were just that sort of thing.

However, coming from Dong Tang where many had special abilities, how could the Third Prince of Dong Tang be unprepared?

“Oh, one last thing,” he said leisurely, “you have to be blindfolded.”

Jing Hengbo stiffened.

A phrase she’d held back for a long time finally burst out.

“I bought a watch last year!”

…

“I bought a watch last year? What does that mean?” asked the curious Virgo.

“It means you’re so beautiful and charming,” Jing Hengbo said with a smile to the brocade-robed man. “In the future, when you meet a girl you like, say this to her—it’s more moving than a confession.”

The brocade-robed man glanced at her, thinking this behavior seemed somewhat familiar—little Cake Girl acted just like this when deceiving people, spouting complete nonsense.

But compared to Her Majesty the Queen’s alluring smile, he still preferred little Cake Girl’s expression when lying—those big innocent eyes, so guileless.

“Your Majesty, please look at these clasps,” Zhongwen introduced the coffin’s clasp locations to Jing Hengbo. They corresponded to each joint of the human body. Opening the clasps wasn’t difficult—pressing down on the slightly raised part on one side would make them spring open automatically. But here was the problem—who had sixteen hands?

Even worse, Jing Hengbo looked around and saw nothing that could substitute for fingers to open these clasps. Use the melon seeds in front of the brocade-robed man?

Melon seeds were too light and wouldn’t work—you needed some weight.

This bastard was too underhanded!

What to do?

Guards brought over the black cloth for blindfolding. Jing Hengbo reached out to tie it herself, but the guard smiled: “We should serve Your Majesty.”

Jing Hengbo could only purse her lips, standing still to let him tie her eyes.

Her position faced the coffin directly. As long as she didn’t move afterward, relying on the memory of those sixteen clasp positions, she could still manage it.

At this moment, she was infinitely grateful to Ziwei—that old fiend had trained her ability to multitask and instantly control objects. If this were her from a year ago, this question would leave her completely blind.

Zhongwen tied the black cloth in three layers, not letting through a sliver of light. She snorted coldly.

No light didn’t matter as long as the position didn’t change.

“Take Her Majesty for a walk to loosen up and avoid tension,” that trap-setting bastard suddenly said.

Jing Hengbo immediately said seriously: “Men and women shouldn’t have physical contact. No.”

“Then forget it.” The brocade-robed man seemed very agreeable this time. Jing Hengbo had just felt pleased when she heard him calmly order: “Move the coffin to a different position.”

Jing Hengbo nearly spat blood in his face.

What grudge do we have? What enmity?

Do you need to be this underhanded?

She tried hard to listen for the coffin’s new position. Damn, these guards had decent martial arts—moving such a heavy coffin without making any sound.

Where had they moved it?

With no certainty, she had to move around to determine the general location of the people.

“I suddenly want to walk after all,” Jing Hengbo said shamelessly. “I’m nervous, my muscles ache. Come, quickly have someone lead me for a walk.”

Amusement flickered in the brocade-robed man’s eyes. He didn’t mind her scheming—he enjoyed this dynamic. For him and for her, if things in this world were accomplished too easily, what would be the point?

“Men and women shouldn’t have physical contact,” he said.

“I’m a hermaphrodite,” she replied. “It’s fine.”

The guards snorted, thinking this person’s shamelessness rivaled their future mistress.

“Deutsche, you go.”

Deutsche stepped forward to support the Queen Dowager as she circled the room. The Queen Dowager kindly patted his hand: “Little De, you’re not very old, are you? You’re not married yet, are you? You’re in good health, aren’t you? You must love your country, don’t you? You’ve traveled far, haven’t you… Your master is scum, isn’t he?”

Deutsche carefully avoided letting her touch the coffin while nodding absently: “Yes, yes, yes, yes… yes… ah!”

Jing Hengbo laughed heartily.

The brocade-robed man rubbed his forehead—stupid humans…

Circling around, Jing Hengbo walked the entire room without touching anything. She suddenly wondered why Pei Shu had been silent—shouldn’t he be trying to give her hints? Zirui was restrained and couldn’t say much, but Pei Shu in the coffin wasn’t gagged.

As she thought this, she heard the brocade-robed man’s hateful voice saying unhurriedly: “Oh, I forgot to tell you—time started counting from when you began circling just now. The poison and that other drug are already being released.”

This time Jing Hengbo really almost spat blood!

…

Inside the coffin.

Pei Shu and Meng Potian naturally heard everything clearly but were completely helpless. Even when the coffin was moved, they couldn’t determine where.

When Jing Hengbo began circling, rustling sounds came from overhead as something sprinkled down. Pei Shu knew this was bad—the powder was already falling. He immediately covered Meng Potian’s nose and mouth with his head.

Caught off guard, Meng Potian made muffled sounds. Pei Shu couldn’t care what she thought—they had to hold their breath to avoid inhaling the toxic gas. Whether poison or aphrodisiac, both took effect instantly with the heaviest concentration at first. Avoiding that initial moment, even if affected later, it would be relatively better.

Pink mist drifted down with a sweet smell. To avoid poisoning, Pei Shu even closed his eyes.

His eyelashes were long, brushing fuzzily against Meng Potian’s face. She felt ticklish but had nowhere to escape. Suddenly realizing Pei Shu’s eyes were closed, her heart stirred… could he be… trying to kiss her?

Thinking this, her face burned hotly. She couldn’t help letting her tongue tip tentatively sweep across Pei Shu’s lips.

Pei Shu hadn’t expected this girl to suddenly take initiative. He immediately drew his lips inward, a movement that enraged the bold Miss Meng—don’t want me? I’ll force you! She simply pressed forward, her tongue sweeping chaotically across Pei Shu’s lips and teeth. Pei Shu, being young and hot-blooded in such circumstances, found his psychology resistant but his physiology unable to withstand the teasing. The maiden’s fragrance was so compelling that his throat moved slightly, actually allowing Meng Potian to breach his defenses and explore between his lips and teeth.

The girl had invaded his territory but didn’t know how to deep kiss. Thinking this fellow was unromantic with his heart elsewhere made her bitter with anger, so she unceremoniously bit his tongue.

Pei Shu cried “ai-yo” and broke character, instinctively opening his mouth. The last bit of pink powder was passing by his nose. He reacted quickly to close his mouth but had already been contaminated a little.

Knowing this was bad but having no solution, he could only say: “Back away, back away…”

“Back to where? Back to where…” Meng Potian was both annoyed and angry, wanting to kick this fellow in front of her.

But Pei Shu could no longer speak. The drug took effect quickly—in an instant, he felt a line of fire rushing from top to bottom, from throat straight to lower abdomen. All his body’s sensations seemed concentrated there—tight, hot, boiling, surging… All his blood and meridians seemed scorched, throbbing violently. His skin took on a crystalline peach blossom color, then was covered with dense sweat…

Meng Potian suddenly exclaimed: “What’s poking me! It’s making my stomach hurt… ah… so hot…” After crying out a few times, she suddenly understood, her face turning blood red as she desperately tried to shrink backward.

Though Pei Shu had shown some reaction before, it hadn’t been this frightening. This time she was truly panicked, desperately shrinking back, but any movement she made was devastating for Pei Shu. He suddenly growled: “Don’t move!”

Meng Potian froze in shock.

Pei Shu burned with fierce fire, gritting his teeth in bitter endurance. Jing Hengbo was right outside—he really didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her. Who knew if these boards were soundproof?

However, the yang energy expanded within him, ready to explode. He knew this was bad—he had pure yang constitution and practiced masculine energy cultivation, making him most vulnerable to such substances. One mistake could cause qi deviation.

He couldn’t die, couldn’t perish here meaninglessly. He still had great vengeance to repay, unfulfilled ambitions, and that woman he wanted to marry but hadn’t won yet. If he died pathetically here, he’d have no face to reincarnate!

Great men didn’t worry about small matters—this was nothing significant!

“Come here!” he commanded Meng Potian.

Miss Meng the Sixth was hardly one to obey meekly, immediately saying warily: “Not coming. I’d die before coming. What do you want?”

“Want to die with me?” Pei Shu panted, saying fiercely: “I’m about to die. Before I die, I’ll have qi deviation. I can’t guarantee what I’ll do before death—maybe my meridians will explode and I’ll die, leaving you squeezed in a coffin with a bloody corpse; maybe I’ll go mad and before dying, bite off your flesh piece by piece…” He smacked his lips with some longing: “I hear human flesh is most tender…”

Meng Potian shuddered. Pei Shu’s sinister and violent tone held no pretense—she could hear the craving and bloodthirst in his voice. She believed he’d do it!

In fact, the young marshal of Dragon City was famous for his brutality in those days.

“What do you want to do? We’re in the same boat here—let’s talk nicely,” Miss Meng the Sixth nervously reverted to underworld slang.

“You’re right…” Pei Shu licked his lips. “We’re in the same boat… so you should also walk on my ‘road’… back and forth… that’s all…”

Meng Potian stared blankly, then realized what “road” meant.

She might not have understood so quickly, but Pei Shu moved his body, letting her clearly feel what kind of “road” it was.

Now Meng Potian felt her face could cook eggs directly.

“You… shameless…” Miss Meng the Sixth, who loved looking at erotic pictures but only from curiosity about those positions and firmly believed she could learn martial arts from them, simply couldn’t believe such shameless people existed!

What was this?

Might as well just ask her to sleep with him directly!

“This way, you don’t lose your chastity…” Pei Shu continued shamelessly.

Though his tone seemed indifferent, he felt guilty inside. He secretly glanced at her—in the darkness, the girl seemed drugged too, face flushed, bright eyes full of anger. If not for the inconvenience, she’d have slapped him long ago.

Pei Shu sighed inwardly—who wanted this? There were people outside! And the person he loved most! At another time and place, even if you knelt begging me to let you touch me, I wouldn’t agree!

But he also knew such a request was truly insulting to an innocent maiden.

He secretly observed her, thinking if it really came to it, let qi deviation happen—he’d killed countless people in his life. Dying from qi deviation would be quite spectacular…

Meng Potian’s chest heaved as she considered how to slap him, when she vaguely saw his expression—actually anxious, guilty, secretly glancing at her, looking quite pitiful…

Meng Potian stared. She hadn’t expected the young marshal with his fearsome reputation to show such an expression—like a neighborhood boy who’d done wrong but wouldn’t admit it, secretly hoping for forgiveness…

Her heart suddenly seemed soaked in spring water, slowly unfurling, smoothing out wrinkles, spreading into the gentlest ripples…

She pressed her lips together, quietly moving forward. That burning heat made her whole body tremble. Pei Shu could no longer endure it, releasing a moan of pain mixed with pleasure…

Advancing and retreating… skin against skin friction and movement… burning heat meeting warmth creating electricity… In the darkness, light seemed to appear, illuminating their sweating faces… Long and short gasps sounded like singing, that song all men and women in this world had composed with their intertwined bodies… Darkness was the best veil, and the nearly sealed soundproof coffin let them dare to release themselves. Though there might have been hesitation at first, later both became lost and devoted. He suddenly burst out a short cry, trembling violently. She immediately retreated in panic, only wishing she could cover her moist, pink face and her own exposed traces of arousal…

The coffin grew quiet.

Moments later, Pei Shu’s tired, slightly self-mocking voice sounded: “Who said Chinese medicine required that… Didn’t this solve everything without leaving traces? Hey, don’t glare at me—I saw you quite enjoyed it…”

“Pei Shu, go die!”

…

Jing Hengbo was currently slowly circling, cursing her escort’s master. She had no idea that in this short time, those two had engaged in passionate friction through their clothes.

Nearby, Zirui, who was also restrained and blindfolded, suddenly raised her head, sniffing suspiciously in one direction.

She smelled a strange odor.

Zirui had keen senses with first-rate hearing and smell.

Just then the brocade-robed man said: “Your Majesty hasn’t found it yet? Now we’re starting to release the poison.”

Zirui immediately smelled an even stranger scent.

She suddenly shouted: “Northwest…”

Simultaneously, the brocade-robed man flicked his sleeve, sending an air current that immediately silenced Zirui’s words.

But Jing Hengbo had already heard.

She kicked Deutsche down and faced northwest, throwing both hands forward violently.

Whoosh—a chestnut-colored shadow shot from the dustpan of garbage at the brocade-robed man’s feet, flashing to the coffin and splitting into sixteen light trails that crashed hard against the sixteen clasps!

Pop-pop-pop—sixteen sounds as the clasps sprang open simultaneously. The coffin finally separated, and Pei Shu and Meng Potian tumbled out in disheveled states.

When Pei Shu fell out, he was still covering Meng Potian’s nose and mouth while hastily brushing off the poison powder that had just fallen on their heads.

The brocade-robed man also showed surprise. He’d guessed Jing Hengbo had abilities but hadn’t expected them to be this formidable. This kind of multi-directional telekinetic ability would be considered pinnacle level even in Dong Tang where ability users abounded.

Chestnut shells scattered across the floor from the dustpan. The brocade-robed man’s eyes showed approval—he’d calculated that this room had no objects suitable for opening clasps. Melon seeds were too light. Who knew Jing Hengbo had already quietly noticed the chestnuts in the dustpan?

The dustpan contained many whole chestnuts because when he ate them, they had to be perfectly round with deep brown color and bright luster. Chestnuts with insufficient roundness or inadequate color were thrown in the dustpan without even being peeled.

A small matter, but not everyone could notice and accomplish it. Now he somewhat believed that phrase “she can do it.”

Jing Hengbo flashed forward as the chestnuts flew out, rushing toward Pei Shu. But the brocade-robed man’s guards had been stationed by the coffin all along. Several bright swords blocked downward. Even if Jing Hengbo dodged past, she’d only drive the blades into Pei Shu’s neck, so she had to stop.

“First question—I answered it,” she said, glancing sideways at the brocade-robed man.

“You cheated,” the brocade-robed man replied.

Jing Hengbo felt this tone was exactly like a young version of Ziwei.

“Did you say I couldn’t cheat?” Having practiced dealing with Ziwei, she had experience: “You’re allowed to create all sorts of difficulties, but I’m not allowed a tiny hint?”

“Of course,” he answered righteously. “Interpretation rights belong entirely to me.”

“Second question!” Jing Hengbo wanted a quick resolution and to find a chance to flatten his face in subsequent questions.

“Hey, you eavesdropping outside,” the brocade-robed man called to the window. “You don’t have to come out, but for every count I make due to your delay, I’ll add another question… One…”

Whoosh—Mr. Mu appeared at the window. With a finger flick, he sent out a powerful wind that forced back the “two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine” the brocade-robed man wanted to continue.

Apparently he also understood this fellow’s tricks well.

Jing Hengbo said happily: “You got out from underground? Pretty fast. Are you alright?”

Mr. Mu’s gaze flickered, pausing before saying: “Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

But Jing Hengbo’s eyes fell on his clothes, blinking as her voice suddenly slowed: “These clothes are dust-resistant? They don’t have a speck of dirt on them.”

“This fabric is smooth—brushing removes dust easily.” Mr. Mu showed her his sleeves. The material had hidden silver light, probably containing silk, indeed smooth and repelling water and dust.

Jing Hengbo made an “oh” sound, glanced at him, then focused back on the major enemy before her.

“Your helper has arrived,” the brocade-robed man smiled. “Should I increase the difficulty?”

“Interpretation rights are yours,” Jing Hengbo was too lazy to argue—arguing was useless. “Release one hostage first.”

“No, there are more shows later,” the brocade-robed man disagreed. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping count. Not one will be missing.”

Jing Hengbo felt trusting him was worse than trusting ghosts—three corpses also counted as “not one missing.”

She again sincerely wished he’d have sons without assholes, and wondered if when Ziwei returned, she should ask for sterilization medicine—such genes shouldn’t be passed down to harm others.

“Next question,” the brocade-robed man narrowed his eyes, saying with relish: “It’s called ‘Hearts in Harmony.'”

Jing Hengbo felt like she was on Mango TV participating in a variety show…

“Immediately, all men here except me, including your helper, will line up wearing masks and stand before you,” the brocade-robed man said. “Each person says one to two sentences. Based on these words, you find your helper among them.”

Listening to this beginning, which didn’t seem bad—Mr. Mu could help her—Jing Hengbo nodded.

“I suggest you find this helper carefully,” the brocade-robed man smiled without any malice, very sincerely saying: “Because the person you identify must accurately report all your vital statistics, and you must accurately report his, including various body measurements and your three measurements.”

“You perverted shameless scoundrel… wait.” Jing Hengbo suddenly widened her eyes. “What did you just say? Three measurements? How do you know about women’s three measurements? Did you hear this somewhere? Do you know Jun Ke, Taishi Lan, or Wen Zhen?”

Speaking faster and faster, her face flushed with excitement, and she unconsciously stepped forward.

The brocade-robed man glanced at her, saying methodically: “Who are you talking about? Don’t understand. Three measurements refer to women’s figures—that’s how we say it in Dong Tang. Is something wrong?”

Jing Hengbo stared at him intently, her gaze becoming uncertain—did Dong Tang really say this? Were there really ancient people who also called women’s figures “three measurements”?

Otherworldly matters were hard to confirm. She had no chance to understand Dong Tang. Seeing his determined denial, she couldn’t help grinding her teeth in hatred.

The brocade-robed man leisurely cracked seeds, amusement in his eyes.

Another of little Cake Girl’s acquaintances!

Hehe, why should he let her know? That girl spent all day wanting to run away anyway. If they made contact, would he still have cake to eat in the future?

Jing Hengbo took a breath, collecting her scattered thoughts. Regardless, saving people was urgent. As for these questions, she’d strangle his neck later to make him cough up answers.

“And then?” She didn’t believe it was this simple. Though it was already quite underhanded, her intuition told her he could definitely reach new heights of trickery.

“After you report each other’s statistics, I’ll design a safe distance based on your reported numbers. One of the three hostages will be placed within this safe distance.” The brocade-robed man’s fingertips now held a gleaming throwing knife, which he toyed with while saying: “Then I’ll throw knives at the precise distance based on actual measurements. You needn’t worry about my knife control and accuracy. You only need to worry whether your numbers are accurate, because each knife will target vital points—eyes, throat, heart. If your numbers are off by even a fraction, the hostage will be disabled or die.” He smiled: “So be sure to measure carefully.”

Jing Hengbo’s vision went dark—damn, one question equaled three, each life-threatening. Forget whether she could pick the right helper from mostly enemies—picking wrong meant giving his guards advantages for nothing. Even picking the right helper, Mr. Mu, measuring three measurements still meant being taken advantage of.

Though she knew her measurements, those were in centimeters and had certainly changed. With these numbers affecting someone’s life, how could she not remeasure carefully and precisely? But this measuring… oh my God!

Were there such underhanded people in the world? Why didn’t he go trick Dong Tang’s emperor with such methods? He was qualified to be the Jade Emperor with such tricks!

She finally couldn’t help cursing: “Your sons will definitely be born without assholes!”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “Someone else cursed me like this once. I decided to have her bear me a son to see if she’d still be happy then.”

“No one would be happy to bear your children even if they slept with pigs… wait!” Jing Hengbo jumped up again. “Who cursed you like this? Who cursed you like this?”

“What’s it to you?” the brocade-robed man said dismissively.

“A kindred spirit!” Jing Hengbo’s eyes sparkled. “I must consider her my kindred spirit!”

Though nervous inside, she didn’t want the brocade-robed man to see her concern, only acting interested as she stared at him intently.

“Dead,” the brocade-robed man immediately said lightly.

This wasn’t incorrect—marrying him meant little Cake Girl’s past had to die!

Hearing Jing Hengbo mention Taishi Lan and Jun Ke’s names just now, he knew this was bad. He knew little Cake Girl was looking for people, but that stubborn girl wouldn’t tell him names or characteristics due to their complicated relationship. Now he knew who they were, but it seemed the one he’d pursued and killed in Nan Qi was called Taishi Lan, the one he’d kidnapped in Da Yan was Jun Ke…

Now the one he was tormenting in Dahuang had immediately named Wen Zhen…

These coincidences seemed too much—had he accidentally offended all of little Cake Girl’s sisters? But little Cake Girl’s sisters were all quite capable of surviving… This made him more determined that little Cake Girl’s past had to die. Otherwise, when these sisters gathered and all proved troublesome, little Cake Girl might never make cakes for him again…

Across from him, Jing Hengbo indeed showed a thunderstruck expression, momentarily lost and devastated.

Dead…

She could almost certainly confirm the brocade-robed man knew one of those three, but now he said they were dead?

This was truly terrible news. She’d just climbed to hope’s peak only to be instantly knocked down. For a moment, her mind went blank, not even hearing Mr. Mu’s concerned inquiries beside her.