117: Chapter 117 The Little Whip Cracks! Ji Ziyue Awakens a Strange Attribute!

Lu Chen did not hesitate.

What was there to be concerned about at this point?

After all, you can't tell a man he's 'not capable'! Anyone who says it gets a piece of my mind! Anyone who says it gets dealt with!

A long whip of Spiritual Qi, condensed from spiritual power, brandished in the air, its strikes landing accurately on the area below Ji Ziyue's lower back.

The sound was crisp.

Ji Ziyue's body arched violently, and a moan escaped her lips that sounded nothing like what a Pseudo-Emperor Seventh Level should produce.

"Ah—!"

Although Lu Chen's spiritual power whip didn't have any Law attached to it, the foundational strength of a Great Emperor Peak was still behind it.

Even the immortal binding rope trembled along with the impact.

Ji Ziyue lay on her side on the ground, her long hair scattered all over the floor, her falling-horse bun completely undone, and her purple jade tassel earrings pressed against her flushed cheeks.

Tears slid from her Phoenix eyes, hanging on her eyelashes before dripping down the bridge of her nose onto the bluestone floor.

She bit her lower lip, her whole body flinching, but her body, bound by the immortal binding rope, could not curl up.

She could only slightly turn her body; under this movement, the golden rope tightened around her chest, and the fabric of her purple palace dress was stretched almost to its limit.

Her eyes were watery, her lips slightly parted, and her messy hair clung to her face.

To anyone who saw her like this, only four words would come to mind—pity and tenderness.

But Lu Chen did not stop his movements.

"Did you really think this Emperor was a soft persimmon you could squeeze whenever you wanted?!"

After a dozen consecutive strikes, his attacks landed on the same spot.

Lu Chen's strikes were very methodical, his strength precisely controlled; they didn't wound the Divine Soul, damage the Dao foundation, break the Meridians, or draw blood—it was just raw, blunt pain.

Ye Qingxian squatted behind a cluster of spiritual flowers ten meters away, covering her mouth with both hands, her large eyes wide and round.

She only felt that this scene was truly too stimulating.

Ji Ziyue was still cursing during the first few lashes.

"Lu Chen! You bastard!!"

Gradually, the sound changed.

"Stop... you..."

Later, the cursing disappeared.

It was replaced by a rapid breathing, intermittent and mixed with soft whimpers.

Finally, Ji Ziyue's body stopped trying to dodge.

Lu Chen's hand stopped in mid-air.

He noticed something was wrong.

Ji Ziyue's shoulders were shaking.

It wasn't the shaking of pain, but a different frequency.

She turned her head, her messy long hair covering most of her face, but Lu Chen saw her one exposed eye.

Tears still hung on her eyelashes, but the anger in her Phoenix eyes was gone.

In its place was an indescribable light.

She was smiling.

The corners of her mouth were slightly upturned; the curve was small, but she was definitely smiling.

Saliva overflowed from the corner of her slightly parted lips, sliding down her chin.

It flowed all the way to her collarbone, then followed the collarbone down, dripping onto the purple fabric tightened over her chest by the rope.

A small patch of the fabric was soaked, turning a darker color and clinging to her skin, vaguely revealing the contours beneath.

Her snow-white fullness rose and fell gently with the frequency of her trembling.

Her breathing became more and more rapid, and her entire body twisted slightly within the confines of the immortal binding rope—not a struggle, but an unconscious stretching.

It was as if she was no longer using her energy to resist, but to feel.

Ji Ziyue was the Old Ancestor of the Ji Family; everyone respected her, feared her, and looked up to her.

No one had ever dared to lay a hand on her.

They didn't even dare to speak a bit louder.

She had been high and mighty for too long.

So long that she herself had forgotten what it felt like to be completely suppressed by a stronger existence.

And now, bound by a Magical Artifact that was at least an Emperor Weapon.

With no power to fight back, no room for resistance.

That shudder climbing up from her tailbone completely broke through a gate she hadn't even known existed.

She no longer cursed angrily.

Her voice changed, becoming soft and sticky, with a nasal tone and a sob, as if it had been soaked in honey water.

"Continue~"

She turned her head, looking at Lu Chen with teary eyes, her Phoenix eyes full of watery light.

Each word was softer than the last, until the end was almost a breathy sound; she curled up on the ground, her body trembling slightly.

Lu Chen's hand shook.

The whip almost flew out of his hand.

He looked down at Ji Ziyue on the ground, his expression changing from condescending to having seen a ghost.

Three breaths ago, this woman was still calling him a shameless scoundrel, a 'thin dog', and questioning his capability.

Now she was acting spoiled with red-rimmed eyes and saying it hurt?

"What kind of weird attribute did you just awaken!"

Lu Chen's voice rose by half a pitch.

Ji Ziyue did not argue.

She twisted her body on the ground, her arms bound behind her back struggling a bit—not to break free.

She was just changing her posture so she could look up at Lu Chen more fully.

Her Phoenix eyes stared straight at him, tear tracks still fresh, eyelashes still wet.

"It is my fault, as long as Emperor Yun likes it~"

"Any punishment for Ziyue is fine."

She paused for a breath.

"Again!"

Ye Qingxian's head, which had been peeking out from behind the spiritual flowers, slowly retracted; she covered her mouth with both hands, her large eyes full of shock.

Lu Chen took a sharp breath of cold air.

He took a step back.

Only one thought was in his mind.

These women are all crazy.

Jiang Yi is crazy, drugging him, locking his spiritual power, and carrying him bridal-style into the bridal chamber.

Nangong Waner is crazy, replicating the aphrodisiac and feeding him a double dose.

Now Ji Ziyue is also crazy; not only is she not angry, she's addicted?

"I'm not hitting you anymore."

Lu Chen put away the spiritual power whip and waved his hand.

The immortal binding rope retracted into his sleeve with a 'whoosh', the golden rope vanishing instantly.

Ji Ziyue's body lost its restraint, her purple palace dress slipping loosely down; she went limp on the ground and did not stand up immediately.

Lu Chen didn't dare to take another look.

He turned around, scooped up Ye Qingxian who was still crouching behind the flowers, tucked her under his arm, and left.

"Revered Master? Revered Master, what's wrong?"

"Let's go!"

"Where to?"

"Back to the room to rest!"

His figure flickered and disappeared without a trace.

Lu Chen had run away.

---

In the back garden, Ji Ziyue slowly sat up from the ground.

Her purple palace dress was crumpled into a ball, her long hair was disheveled, and her earring was crooked.

She reached out to rub herself and hissed.

It hurt, it really hurt.

But the corners of her mouth curled up.

She looked in the direction where Lu Chen had disappeared, stuck out the tip of her tongue, and slowly licked her red lips.

Her Phoenix eyes half-squinted, her gaze deep.

She didn't look like a prey that had been humiliated.

She looked like a hunter who had discovered the prey's weakness.

Her judgment was completely correct.

This man was easily taken down by women; presumably, having been abstinent for too long, the fifty-eight days of indulgence had opened all the gaps in his armor.

And then it became uncontrollable!

The current Lu Chen, to her, was an opportunity.

With just a little initiative, he would catch fire.

She licked the remaining traces of saliva from the corner of her mouth, stood up, and tidied her messy dress.

"Interesting."

"The Ji Family is going to flourish for another ten thousand years."

She looked up into the distance, her gaze passing over the layers of palace buildings and pavilions, landing in the direction Lu Chen had left.

"Run then."

"The monk can run, but the temple can't."

She turned and walked back, her pace composed, her purple skirt trailing across the bluestone floor, leaving an elegant arc.

After two steps, she stopped again.

She turned back and smiled at the air.

"The Great Emperor is not capable after all! Your whip isn't fast enough, and it's certainly not ruthless enough!"

She recalled the moment just now.

Her Pseudo-Emperor Seventh Level strength was completely unable to function under the suppression of the immortal binding rope; she was stripped of all ability to resist and could only endure.

That extreme sense of loss of control and being crushed was something someone who had been high and mighty for years had never experienced.

Fresh, stimulating.

And a little bit addictive.

Ji Ziyue's fingers unconsciously touched her waist; the slight stinging pain from her fingertips made her breath hitch.

She withdrew her hand and lifted her chin.

Jiang Yi relied on drugs and a marriage contract.

Nangong Waner relied on drugs and old feelings.

She, Ji Ziyue, only needed to rely on herself.

She turned and walked towards the main peak, her purple skirt trailing an elegant arc on the bluestone floor.

Her gait was composed, her waist swaying gently, every movement restoring the poise of the Ji Family Old Ancestor.

Only her walking posture had a few more subtle hints of awkwardness than when she arrived.

After all.

The place below her lower back really did hurt.

"Hmph! Not knowing how to cherish the fragrance and pity the jade, but I like it!"