93. Tormenting and Being Tormented

In the blink of an eye, no one could react in time.

Gu Fei blinked; a fierce wind brushed past her, tousling the loose strands by her ears. She felt the sharp sting of her cheek being sliced, and in those pitch-black eyes, the deadly claws drew ever nearer. Her mind screamed to dodge, yet her body lagged behind, leaving her helpless to watch it unfold.

There was nowhere to evade, nothing to block with. The beast’s vertical golden eyes gleamed with wild ferocity and chilling cruelty. Gu Fei stared into them, and suddenly her vision spun; her body toppled out of the wheelchair, thrown by its collapse.

With a dull thud, her palm scraped painfully against the rough gravel as she sprawled on the ground. She turned her head just in time to see, following that heavy sound, You Hu holding her emerald hairpin—gold filigree entwined with floral motifs—pressed precisely against Duogula’s palm. Had she moved half an inch further, the pin would have pierced through.

“Get out of my way!” Duogula roared in fury, her fingers shifting from claws to an open palm, ready to swat You Hu’s weapon aside and pursue Gu Fei. But—

“Impudent!” Aunt Ku emerged from the kitchen upon hearing the commotion, wasting no time. She launched a pair of chopsticks like arrows, aiming straight for Duogula’s eyes. If Duogula persisted with her attack, she’d risk being blinded.

As expected, Duogula’s assault shifted—she turned to defend herself. As she brushed away the chopsticks, Aunt Ku’s fist was already upon her.

With a resounding impact, fist met palm. Aunt Ku, prepared and precise, sent Duogula staggering several steps back, a metallic taste rising in her throat—a hint of blood.

Aunt Ku showed no mercy, her attacks relentless and unyielding. She didn’t even allow Duogula to regain her footing before advancing again, her expression fierce, murderous intent clear between her brows. For a moment, Duogula was forced into a defensive stance, unable to counterattack.

Gu Fei managed to prop herself up, her palm burning with pain. She glanced down and saw, beneath the pale skin and dappled sunlight, a faint dusting of blue powder—fine as butterfly phosphor shaken from a wing.

She wiped it with her sleeve, but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, she recalled Duogula’s venomous blue nails, the color matching the powder on her hand exactly.

“Miss, are you alright?” You Hu crouched beside her, half-supporting her to lean against him, then righted the wheelchair with a single hand.

His long sleeves slipped down, covering the back of her hand, leaving only the reddened wounds on her palm exposed.

Behind Gu Fei, You Hu gently took her fingers, examining her palm—tiny grains of gravel embedded in the wounds, his slanted brows creasing with concern. He fetched a clean silk handkerchief from his pocket. “Miss, bear with me,” he said.

He wrapped her wounds with the cloth, then lifted her back into the wheelchair, seating her properly. He returned the emerald hairpin to her bun.

“Miss, next time use the pure gold hairpin—it’s sharper,” You Hu smiled, eyes narrowed. The situation had been so dire; as a frail scholar, he was no match for Duogula’s assault. In desperation, he’d snatched Gu Fei’s hairpin as a weapon and toppled her and the wheelchair to the ground, narrowly averting disaster.

Gu Fei remained silent, her cold, sharp gaze flickering to the sullen-faced Gu Min nearby, then back to the shifting scene. Aunt Ku’s moves were precise, the orthodox style of Great Yin. Duogula, raised in the deep forests, fought with the ferocity of wild beasts. Once she adapted to Aunt Ku’s rhythm, she quickly adjusted. After a while, the two were evenly matched.

Gu Fei lowered her gaze, stretching her hand to examine the back. To her surprise, the blue powder was gone. Alarmed, she rolled up her sleeve—nothing had stuck to the cuff. It was as if she’d imagined it all.

Noticing Gu Fei’s actions, a shadow deepened at You Hu’s lips. He bent his head and asked quietly, “Is your hand hurting?”

A heavy mist rose in Gu Fei’s eyes. She stared at Duogula’s hands for a moment before asking, “Are her nails poisoned?”

You Hu looked over; her ten fingers were stained a deep blue, like some infectious plague. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a deadly venom unique to the deep north of Southern Qi. The barbarians live among forest toxins and have their own antidotes, so the poison doesn’t harm them. But contact with outsiders is dangerous.”

He turned to Gu Fei, a sudden flash of realization in his mind. He asked hesitantly, “Miss, did you come into contact with it?”

Gu Fei didn’t hide it. She brushed her fingers over the back of her hand. “A moment ago, there was blue powder here—”

“But now it’s gone, and nothing on your sleeve? Not a trace?” You Hu interrupted, his expression grave.

Gu Fei nodded. It must have fallen from Duogula’s nails during her assault, accidentally contaminating her hand.

You Hu pondered, then turned to face Gu Fei, blocking Gu Min’s view. He bent down, holding her gaze, and without a word lifted her sleeve, pressing two fingers to her pulse.

Gu Fei watched his skilled technique, so practiced it was startling. She stared at him, suspicion rising in her eyes.

You Hu knew exactly what she was thinking. He just smiled faintly; in such a crisis, he had no choice but to act. He wouldn’t rest easy without checking for himself.

“Who are you, really?” Gu Fei asked, each word deliberate. She couldn’t believe a frail scholar would know medicine, and so adeptly.

You Hu didn’t answer. He switched to her other hand, and soon his brows furrowed, gazing at her delicate face with deep concern. “It’s fortunate I lingered in your Azure Ink Court. Otherwise, your fate would be grim. They say a life-saving debt must be repaid. How do you plan to reward me, Miss?”

He saw the doubt in her eyes and, at this point, made no effort to conceal anything. It all depended on what Gu Fei would piece together herself.

Gu Fei’s eyes flickered. She felt the warmth of his fingertips on her wrist—a foreign sensation, but not unpleasant.

Her pale lips pressed into a thin line; she said nothing.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ku and Duogula had fought to a standstill. Aunt Ku’s superior skill finally gained the upper hand; her every move was deadly and merciless. Realizing defeat was imminent, Duogula quickly withdrew, pulling Gu Min along, casting a venomous glare at Gu Fei. “Let’s go!”

The two fled, disappearing at the far end of the Azure Ink Court in a blink. Aunt Ku would have chased after them, but You Hu quickly called out, “Don’t pursue—she can’t die yet. The antidote is still in her hands; Miss is poisoned.”

Aunt Ku was shocked, leaping to Gu Fei’s side. “Miss is poisoned?”

Gu Fei nodded, glancing impassively at You Hu. Judging by his tone, it seemed the scholar knew how to cure it.

“It’s all my fault for failing you, Miss. Please punish me!” Aunt Ku dropped to her knees, guilt etched on her face.

Gu Fei shook her head. “It’s not your fault. This is likely Gu Min’s doing. I wonder what his true aim is—if he wanted me dead, why go to such trouble? Clearly, he used You Hu’s beauty as bait to lure Duogula in, counting on me refusing to give him up easily, which forced Duogula to attack me. Yet he didn’t want me dead, just poisoned…”

“Indeed, it’s rather interesting. He wants to plot against me? We’ll see if he has the skill to succeed!”

Her final words carried a golden, killing edge, like a blade’s hook.

Meanwhile, Duogula and Gu Min, having fled, returned to the main house. Duogula, face cold, stared at him, her voice harsh, “Are you sure that once Gu Fei is poisoned, she’ll obediently hand over the beauty?”

Gu Min composed himself, replying respectfully, “Of course. If she wants the antidote, only Madam has the means. Once the poison takes effect tonight, she’ll surely come to Madam, and whatever terms are set, they’ll be at Madam’s discretion.”

Duogula’s expression eased, the murderous light in her golden eyes dimming slightly. She rose, patting Gu Min’s handsome face. “I like your cunning—just like a wolf…”

With that, she leaned in, biting his neck. Her sharp teeth pierced the skin, drawing blood; Duogula drank, savoring the tangy sweetness on her tongue. Her eyes narrowed in delight.

Gu Min’s face turned pale with pain, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He clenched his fists in his sleeves so tightly his palms bled.

Duogula’s tongue flicked over Gu Min’s throat like a serpent. She lifted her head, her golden gaze cold. “Take off your clothes.”

His body obeyed before his mind caught up. At her command, his hands unfastened his belt, his robe falling to the floor with a soft thud, stirring up dust. Beneath, he wore nothing else.

Duogula laughed, the sound never reaching her eyes. She gripped his chin, gazing at his face, suddenly recalling You Hu’s beauty.

Though Gu Min was famed as one of Yizhou’s three jade sons, he couldn’t quite match You Hu in looks.

Her blue nails traced his bare chest; Gu Min groaned. Now stripped, his body was marked with countless bite wounds—large and small, especially around his chest and thighs.

Duogula was like a supple snake, winding behind Gu Min. Her hands slid beneath his arms, resting on his chest. Her lips grazed his broad back, and suddenly she shoved him down.

With a crash, she knocked over the teapot; tea splashed everywhere. She grabbed a shard of porcelain, her golden eyes ablaze with cold excitement.

Gu Min rolled over and saw the shard in her hand; his eyes widened in terror. “No, don't—”

Duogula giggled, thoroughly satisfied by his fear. She tore off her skirt, her honey-hued skin glowing with wild beauty in the daylight.

She was like a female leopard—her chest bold and full, waist slender and strong, legs long, supple, and firm. When she straddled Gu Min, locking her thighs around his hips, he couldn’t escape.

Gu Min swallowed, his eyes full of fear and his heart seething with hatred. If only he could match Duogula, he’d rather die with her.

“Why aren’t you as handsome as him?” Duogula still lingered on thoughts of You Hu. Towering above, she watched the man beneath her, the sharp porcelain slowly tracing his chest, drawing lines of crimson.

She licked her lips, her touch precise—wounding Gu Min just enough to hurt, but not to cause him real pain or threaten his life. Then she bent down, drinking the blood as it welled up, her tongue circling the wounds.

Gu Min’s breathing grew heavy; the pain from the porcelain was sharp at first, then numbed into a tingling sensation as Duogula’s tongue swept over it. The supple, powerful body atop him was a paradox of extremes. In this torment, he found himself aroused.

ps:
Ah… it’s late… no more to say. The second update will be at sixteen or sixteen thirty.