Chapter 623
Weng Haisheng VS Xiahou Wu
Dan Ying's thoughts were somewhat scattered.
His hand... was massaging along her legs.
Even through the soft fabric, every bit of force and every movement of his palm could be clearly felt.
It was no longer a simple soreness, but an indescribable tactile sensation that combined strength, temperature, and friction.
Her body trembled slightly like a leaf in the wind, and her soft moans could no longer be suppressed, spilling intermittently from her tightly pursed lips, so tender and delicate that even she was startled.
"Hmm... Ha..."
She wanted to tell him to stop, to make him stop, but the voice that came out was soft and weak, more like an unconscious murmur.
His hand had already reached the back of her knees, and then, without warning, his fingers lightly hooked the hem of her trousers.
Cool fingertips brushed casually across the back of her calf.
Dan Ying felt as if she had been struck by lightning, and her whole body trembled.
“The fabric is a bit thick,” he said casually, his tone as calm as ever, as if stating a fact. “It slightly hinders the perception of subtle changes in the texture.”
As he spoke, the fingers hooked around his trouser leg exerted a slight force, lifting it up an inch.
The fine cotton glided across my skin, sending a slight shiver through me.
He didn't pull it up further, but simply left that small section of the calf completely exposed to the air, and also exposed to his gaze and possible touch.
This action is more nerve-wracking than any direct contact.
It implies absolute control and the authority to delve deeper at any time.
Dan Ying's heart pounded wildly, and the hidden throbbing deep within her body reached its peak.
Feng Yuxiu loosened his trouser leg and returned his fingers to the acupoints on her leg, continuing to press them.
But at this moment, the feeling of pressing is completely different.
The skin on his calves, exposed to the air, was exceptionally sensitive, and the temperature and pressure of his fingertips were amplified infinitely.
The mere exposure of a section of her calf seemed to break through an invisible barrier, leaving her entire body in a state of openness, extreme sensitivity, and extreme vulnerability.
She didn't know when the guidance had turned out this way.
His hands began to move beyond specific meridians, sometimes brushing across the sensitive curves of her waist, sometimes grazing the area near her armpits. Each unintentional touch caused her to tremble slightly and let out an uncontrollable moan.
Her consciousness gradually faded, leaving only her body's most instinctive reactions.
The embarrassment remained, but it was already wavering under the onslaught of that surging, unfamiliar feeling.
She unconsciously began to shift her waist slightly to meet the force of his hand.
When his fingers traced certain particularly sensitive areas, she would involuntarily lift her hips slightly, emitting softer, almost pleading moans.
"Master..." she finally uttered the two words that Feng Yuxiu had initially made her call out, her voice trembling. It was no longer "you" or any other title.
Her voice carried a hint of bewilderment, a desperate longing, though even she herself didn't know what she was longing for. Was it a longing for cessation, or a longing for more complete release?
His movements froze for a moment because of her call.
He then leaned down. His warm, herbal breath sprayed onto her exposed nape of the neck and her earlobes.
His lips were almost touching her earlobe, his voice low and deep, with a slow, almost magnetic quality:
“Vice Sect Leader, your tone… doesn’t sound like you’re going to refuse.”
These words, like the last gentle breeze, stirred my faltering reason.
She turned her head sharply and, in the dim light, met his eyes, which were so close to hers.
There was no turmoil, at least not the kind of turmoil she expected or feared. There was only a calm that was almost scrutinizing, and a faint, probing light, as if observing her completely bewildered state.
It was those eyes! It was that calmness! Her emotions surged, yet she was held captive by an inexplicable force.
I don't know where the strength came from, perhaps it was the resolute determination of a desperate gamble, or perhaps it was some kind of courage that was born out of nowhere.
She suddenly raised her arm, no longer helplessly bearing it, but actively, tremblingly yet firmly, and climbed onto his shoulder and neck.
Her wet, flushed cheeks tilted back, and her eyes, brimming with moisture and confusion, gazed straight into his.
Tonight, Feng Yuxiu spoke in ancient language, and the image of the chivalrous knight in Shan Ying's mind gradually overlapped with that of Feng Yuxiu.
This is not modern times; she seems to be in an ancient boudoir, where a chivalrous knight is crushing her body.
Her mind and body kept collapsing, creating illusions; this was her destiny from childhood to adulthood.
A highly skilled martial arts master from ancient times.
"Then..." Her voice trembled violently, her breath weak, yet carrying a reckless stubbornness, "Then... don't stop..."
After saying that, she closed her eyes and, with a slightly burning touch, pressed her lips, albeit awkwardly, yet with unwavering determination, against his thin lips that always spoke calm words.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
Dan Ying could feel his body stiffen instantly, and could feel the coolness and tightness of his lips.
What is she doing? Has she lost her mind? But there's no turning back now.
She touched him clumsily and haphazardly, her tongue tentatively trying to explore, her body trembling slightly with extreme tension and shyness. Yet, the arms she clung to his shoulders and neck tightened, as if grasping at the last remaining support, or as if trying to drag herself and him into an unknown abyss.
This is a thorough, proactive delivery.
Present her with the composure of a deputy sect leader, the self-restraint of a martial artist, and the modesty of a woman, along with this body that has deviated from the norm and yearns for guidance.
After a long while, or perhaps just a moment, she felt his lips move.
He didn't respond to her kiss, but instead slightly turned his head away, avoiding her advances.
For the first time, his breathing became noticeably uneven, warmly brushing against her lips and neck.
Then, he took her wrist, which was clinging to his shoulder, in one hand.
His grip was firm and steady, making her feel a little tight.
With his other hand, however, he slowly and forcefully slid down her smooth back, finally stopping at the tip of her full, curved breasts, which were covered by soft fabric.
His thumb, through the slightly damp fabric, pressed on a very hidden spot, not an acupoint, for a physical massage.
Dan Ying suddenly opened her eyes wide, her pupils contracted sharply, and a very soft gasp choked in her throat. It was as if all the blood in her body rushed to her head and then froze in the next second.
The extreme stimulation made her vision blur and her mind go blank.
He lowered his head, bringing his voice closer to her ear, lower and husky than before, carrying a chilling, almost tender calmness:
"As you wish."
When everything finally came to a stop, Shan Ying was too weak to move.
The fine cotton undergarment was already disheveled and slightly damp, clinging to her body.
She lay on the bed, her face buried in her arms, her body still trembling slightly and uncontrollably, each breath carrying a faint aftertaste.
Feng Yuxiu had already stood up and was straightening his sleeves.
Then, he walked to the bedside and looked down at the woman on the bed, who was in a daze and lost in thought.
"This time, it's fine," he commented, his voice still devoid of warmth. "You've actively adapted, and your Qi flows more smoothly. The old injury is healed; what remains is the result of your restless mind. Follow the new prescription to recuperate, calm your mind, and strengthen your foundation. This next time might be the last, so I hope you're ready."
Shan Ying did not respond, as if she had not heard.
Feng Yuxiu paused, his gaze sweeping over her exposed shoulders, neck, and arms, which bore faint red marks, as well as her slightly wrinkled, soft, moon-white undergarment.
A slight smile played on his lips; Shan Ying had now been completely tamed.
A dignified deputy sect leader is now so proactive and even eager.
So, the next time he comes will be the day Xiahou Wu dies.
He turned around and, just as he had come, silently walked to the door, opened it, blended into the night outside, and closed it behind him.
Once again, only Shan Ying remained in the room.
A silence, thicker and more viscous than the last, filled with an unfamiliar atmosphere, enveloped her completely.
Deep within her body, the emptiness that had been thoroughly stirred, unblocked, yet never truly satisfied, was like a silent abyss, devouring her remaining consciousness.
She didn't even have the strength to sigh.
This time, it wasn't him forcibly leaving a mark, but rather she voluntarily opened herself up, allowing him to explore, guide, and lead her until she lost herself in the process.
Deputy Sect Leader Shan Ying? That seems like a distant phantom.
Lying on the bed at this moment is a woman named Shan Ying, who has been captured by some dangerous force and whose mind and body are out of control.
She knew that some paths, once embarked upon, were difficult to turn back from.
"Waaaaah... Why... why am I so sexy!"
-
"Please, don't kill me... What did I ever do to offend you?!"
In a dirty and messy underground ramp in Causeway Bay, there is an electrical control room at the corner.
The room had been converted into a prison cell, where a disheveled middle-aged man was wailing while clutching his broken right leg.
Behind him were two large iron cages for tethering dogs, inside which were two naked women covered in mud.
Weng Haisheng squatted down, and the scars on his face appeared even more prominent and grotesque in the dim light.
"I'm really disappointed. I finally found someone who knows martial arts, but he's such a bad person."
"The martial arts world has disappointed me greatly."
Weng Haisheng slowly raised his arms, his face grim and fierce. He repeated his words, "The martial arts world now needs to be awakened by killing. Only in this way will the righteous martial arts world of the past return."
"I believe that many outstanding individuals are still observing, waiting for a legitimate martial arts world to emerge."
"I, Feng Yuxiu, will fight my way out of this martial arts world."
The man trembled; he had never seen such a ruthless madman who attacked with deadly moves from the very first strike.
He was crippled after only managing to parry one attack.
"Shh, be quiet. You trash have disappointed me greatly. Kung Fu is a killing technique, yet you're doing such disgusting things."
They all deserve to die!
"die!"
Weng Haisheng's elbow suddenly snapped, breaking the neck of the man who was trying to scream.
He then stood up, cracked his neck, glanced at the two women huddled up in fear, and walked out.
Just as I reached the intersection, two police officers approached from the left.
Upon seeing Weng Haisheng, one of them tilted his head and pressed the intercom, "Command center, this is Officer 2788. A suspicious person has been spotted. Requesting backup."
The two men stood still, their eyes fixed on Weng Haisheng's limping legs.
Because Lu Xuanxin invited martial arts masters from the inland areas, they initially concluded that the second martial arts expert was disabled.
And his left leg is missing. After so many days, the Hong Kong screening personnel have registered almost all of them.
Now all that's left are some unregistered and scattered individuals.
Weng Haisheng looks like a disorganized individual; he doesn't have the air of a native Hong Konger.
That look, still the same as the British gaze.
Hong Kong people always look down on others, even if you speak Cantonese or English.
If you speak Mandarin, then we won't welcome you.
Weng Haisheng turned his head, grinned, and ran wildly into the alleyway.
"stop!!"
"Requesting backup!"
Weng Haisheng instantly scrambled up the walls on both sides, then ran and leaped between the tall buildings.
The two police officers could only look up helplessly.
"I saw him!"
A rough voice came through the walkie-talkie channel.
"It's Coach Xia."
Xiahou Wu had been circling nearby and rushed over as soon as he heard the walkie-talkie.
His eyes held a brutal glint, a stark contrast to the look he had a month ago.
Is this the bastard who went in and out of my junior sister's room in the middle of the night?
Such a short, lame bastard, my junior sister must have been coerced!
Absolutely! Killing this bastard today is all in accordance with the law.
"You will die today!"
Two figures engaged in a breathtaking chase amidst the densely packed rooftops of Hong Kong's buildings.
Xiahou Wu's every step was powerful and heavy, causing the concrete floor to tremble slightly.
He swung his arms like a spear, and although he was tall, he was incredibly fast. In just a few leaps, he closed the distance.
While Weng Haisheng, who was in front, had a limp in his left leg, his movements were as unpredictable as a monkey's.
He didn't run in a straight line, but made full use of the terrain.
He would hook his arm around a clothesline pole and swing across a narrow alley, then flip over after lightly touching the air conditioner unit with his toes. He would even use the rusty iron ladders hanging on the exterior of old buildings to make a series of gravity-defying lateral movements.
His route was cunning; he would always change direction at the very moment Xiahou Wu was about to pounce, like a slippery eel.
"All you do is run away!" Xiahou Wu roared, his voice shaking the night sky.
He seized the opportunity when Weng Haisheng used the old water tower as leverage, suddenly accelerated, and swept his right leg like a battle axe, the wind howling as he aimed straight for his opponent's waist and ribs.
Incredibly, Weng Haisheng twisted his body in mid-air and casually tapped Xiahou Wu's shin with his crippled left leg. The seemingly powerless strike deflected Xiahou Wu's sure-fire attack by three points, causing it to slam heavily onto the water tower with a dull thud, denting the metal sheet.
"The strength is acceptable, but it's too stupid." Weng Haisheng sneered, using the recoil to float backward and land on the edge of a neighboring low building.
The glow of the neon lights spread out from behind him, making his short, hunched figure appear ghostly.
"He's got good bones and muscles, but his brain is like a block of wood."
Xiahou Wu's eyes were bloodshot, his junior sister's face flashed in his mind, and his anger almost burned away his reason.
"I'll kill you!" He clasped his fists together, holding nothing back, and unleashed his signature move.
Iron Fist's solid stance, combined with his improved explosive footwork, made him charge forward like a cannonball.
Fists, elbows, and knees transformed into a violent shadow, enveloping Weng Haisheng.
Weng Haisheng finally stopped his teasing and his eyes narrowed.
He no longer simply dodged; his arms were like a closed door, using an extremely simple and even slightly clumsy parrying posture, yet he always managed to intercept Xiahou Wu's most dangerous attacks without missing a beat.
His technique was small and crisp, each contact producing a clear snapping sound. It wasn't a hard collision, but a precise strike to the joints and tendons where Xiahou Wu exerted force, causing the fierce power to repeatedly disappear without a trace.
“Killing techniques aren’t bullfighting,” Weng Haisheng muttered coldly as he parried. “Your anger, your worry, are all weaknesses.”
Before he finished speaking, he seized the moment when Xiahou Wu leaned slightly forward due to his frenzied attack, and his crippled left leg silently extended like a scorpion. It wasn't a kick, but rather a scrape across Xiahou Wu's supporting leg and knee like an iron plow.
Xiahou Wu grunted, suddenly losing his balance.
Weng Haisheng, with his right hand held together like a sword, swiftly stabbed at the throat, so fast that only a blur remained.
On the brink of life and death, Xiahou Wu roared and, relying on his honed reflexes, suddenly tilted his head back and threw his right fist at Weng Haisheng's face with all his might, a desperate move to take him down with him.
A hint of surprise flashed in Weng Haisheng's eyes, as if he hadn't expected the other party to be so fierce.
His outstretched finger veered off course, grazing Xiahou Wu's neck and leaving a bloody mark. At the same time, his body darted backward like a kite, narrowly avoiding the desperate punch.
The two separated again. Blood seeped from Xiahou Wu's neck, and he was breathing heavily.
Weng Haisheng slightly moved his wrist, which was a little numb from parrying, and the scars on his face twitched slightly in the light of the flashing police lights in the distance.
Below, more sirens blared as they drew closer, and beams of searchlight began to sweep across the buildings.
“It’s boring.” Weng Haisheng suddenly shook his head listlessly, the fervor in his eyes fading, leaving only cold weariness.
"We thought someone decent had arrived, but it turns out he's just a useless piece of trash blinded by personal feelings. The martial arts world is truly rotten to the core these days."
He turned around, his back to Xiahou Wu and the encirclement that was gradually forming below, and looked towards the dark sea and the scattered lights of the islands in the distance.
Weng Haisheng turned his head to the side, a mocking smile curving his lips. "The game has only just begun. After I've killed all these scumbags disguised as martial arts practitioners, it will naturally be your turn... self-righteous onlookers."
After saying that, he leaped into the air, not towards the building below, but towards the dark, nearly three-meter-wide, bottomless crevice between the two buildings.
"You!" Xiahou Wu rushed to the edge.
As Weng Haisheng fell, his arms and legs spread out inexplicably, like a gecko, precisely bracing themselves against the mottled walls on either side. After a tooth-grinding scraping sound, he swam rapidly downwards in that strange yet efficient manner, disappearing into the shadows between the buildings.
A few seconds later, a brief gasp and commotion came from the alley below, followed by the furious roar of a motorcycle engine, which quickly disappeared into the distance.
Xiahou Wu gripped the concrete railing at the edge of the rooftop tightly, his fingers almost digging into it.
The wound on the side of my neck was burning, but it was nothing compared to the frustration and anger I felt.
Police officers rushed onto the rooftop one after another.
"Coach Xia, are you alright?"
"Which direction did the target run off in?"
Xiahou Wu didn't answer, only staring intently at the darkness where Weng Haisheng had disappeared. (End of Chapter)