At the same time, in the abandoned firewood shed.
Pei Yan gritted his teeth, mentally flaying Chu Mingzhao alive, inch by inch.
He imagined the blade in his hand slicing through her fair, slender neck. He imagined her arrogant red lips letting out a blood-curdling scream. He imagined the warmth of her blood splattering onto the back of his hand...
He needed hatred.
Hatred was the only fuel left to keep him warm.
"Chu Mingzhao..."
Pei Yan whispered her name in his mind, biting off each syllable as if he wanted to devour her alive.
Chu Mingzhao, I will kill you.
That should have been his vow.
But just as the word "kill" was about to take form inside him, a loud buzz erupted in Pei Yan's brain, as if something had snapped violently.
An utterly absurd impulse, like a dam breaking, ruthlessly crashed through the last barrier of his sanity.
What emerged in his mind was not a blood-soaked image of Chu Mingzhao's death, but...
He clearly recalled the weight of Chu Mingzhao falling onto him.
That soft, delicate body, separated only by a layer of slippery massage oil, pressed perfectly against him. He remembered her hair spilling over his shoulder, her red lips brushing against his Adam's apple, even... her knee, unerringly pressing into his most vulnerable spot.
I want to... sleep with her.
This thought slammed into his mind, instantly twisting all his murderous intent into a bizarre, dazzling lust.
"No..."
Pei Yan's eyes flew open, their depths filled with shock and disbelief.
Had he gone mad?
He must be suffering from frost-induced hallucinations!
That was Chu Mingzhao! The venomous woman who humiliated him like a dog, whipped him, and belittled him with her words!
He longed to tear her flesh from her bones and drink her blood. How could he possibly have such... such revolting thoughts toward her?
Yet his body's response was far more honest—and far more brutal—than his reason.
The stable was so cold that water would freeze instantly, but Pei Yan felt his throat so parched it felt like smoke was rising from it.
The suppressed inferno of desire, fueled by this absurd fixation, spread wildly.
Hallucinations surged in like a tide.
Even the sound of the wind seemed to shift, transforming into that woman's willful, lazily flirtatious laugh.
"As long as you're still breathing, you'll obediently be this lady's dog."
Her words echoed in his ears like a venomous curse.
Pei Yan arched his back in pain, his hands clenching the hay beneath him, veins bulging across his knuckles.
He closed his eyes, but the darkness before him was filled with nothing but Chu Mingzhao.
She wore a bright red silk dress, barefoot, stepping onto the filthy hay of the stable. She looked down on him from above, her eyes shimmering with seductive charm, her crimson-tipped fingernails gently lifting his chin as she called him a good-for-nothing hound.
And in that vision, he didn't push her away.
Like a beast that had lost all reason, he violently dragged that lofty, untouchable flower into the grimy mire.
"Mmm..."
A breath, suppressed to the breaking point, escaped through Pei Yan's cracked lips.
He snapped awake abruptly, gasping for air, his chest heaving violently.
Cold sweat trickled down his temples, freezing into beads of ice before they could even fall into the hay.
The stable remained deathly silent, except for the howling wind outside. There was no Chu Mingzhao, no scent of roses—only himself.
Pei Yan stiffly lowered his head, his gaze falling on the unavoidable disgrace beneath him.
A tidal wave of self-loathing utterly engulfed him.
“I must be insane…”
He let out a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
He was Pei Yan, after all.
The crown prince who could compose poetry at three, draw a bow at seven, and was praised by the Grand Tutor as “radiant as the moon amid the clouds.”
Even when he fell from the altar and was trampled into the mud, serving as a live-in son-in-law or a horse boy, enduring daily humiliation, his spine had never bent an inch.
He could endure physical agony, could endure vulgar abuse. But what he could not endure was that his vaunted will would surrender to the most primal, most despicable carnal desire!
And the object of that desire? The woman he hated most!
“It must be the essential oil… there must be an aphrodisiac poison in the oil…”
Pei Yan bit his lower lip hard, muttering to himself as if trying to convince himself.
Yes, that vile woman Chu Mingzhao was behind this.
She knew torture couldn’t break his proud spirit, so she used such lowly tactics to destroy his will, trying to turn him into a dog ruled by lust.
But even knowing it was the drug’s effect, the craving rooted deep in his mind—the urge to devour her whole—only tightened its grip on him.
Pei Yan raised his hand and, without a moment’s hesitation, slammed it fiercely against the ground beside him, frozen solid.
Boom!
His knuckles split, blood instantly gushing out, blooming like stark red plum blossoms on the icy floor.
The pain from his fingers, linked to his heart, finally tore open a gap of rationality, cooling the raging wildfire within him slightly.
He gasped heavily, pressing his bleeding hand against his forehead, slowly calming down at last.
Chu Mingzhao, you’d better pray I die this winter.
Otherwise, the shame you’ve inflicted on me today, I will make you repay a hundredfold, a thousandfold… on my bed!
…Wait, that’s not right!
Drop the “on my bed” part!!
…
Ah-choo!
In a heated inner chamber, Chu Mingzhao suddenly let out a mighty sneeze, nearly dropping the enamel hand warmer she was holding.
“Miss, have you caught a chill?” Cuizhu rushed over, pulling the fox-fur cloak tighter around her. “This servant will go brew a bowl of ginger soup right away.”
“No need.”
Chu Mingzhao rubbed her nose, guiltily glancing at the pitch-black night outside the window.
Catching a chill wasn’t the issue, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of a cold draft creeping up her spine.
On the system panel, in the status bar for the male lead, Pei Yan, the once clearly displayed [Kill Intent: 90%] was now undergoing a bizarre transformation.
It flickered to 99%, then shimmered into a mess of garbled code, before finally settling at a relatively calm 60% and staying put.
Only, the font color had changed into an indescribable shade of girlish pink.
Chu Mingzhao swallowed hard.
It was over.
It seemed she had forced an alpha male lead originally on a path of revenge and domination so far off course that he had veered into corruption, heading toward some unspeakably twisted development.
“System,” Chu Mingzhao asked weakly in her mind, “if Pei Yan ever ascends the throne one day, will he chop off my head first, or…”
According to the logic of a typical web novel plot, he will most likely chain you to the dragon bed first, keeping you there for three days and three nights unable to get up, and then, while you cry and beg for mercy, snicker coldly and ask: “Back then in the stable, weren’t you quite arrogant?”
Chu Mingzhao: ...
She peacefully closed her eyes.
This life is unlivable. She’d better find a way to grind experience and level up as soon as possible, striving to change the scene where Pei Yan kills her into sending her back to the modern world.
