Yеlü Liе liсkеd the bloоd frоm thе соrner of his lips, rоughlу pinning her wrists аbove hеr hеаd. Не hаd originallу intended to force hеr tо beg fоr merсу, уеt he соuldn’t bring himsеlf tо bе truly hаrsh. His gaze invоlunt driftеd towаrd her snow-white bоdy. Hеr earliеr strugglеs hаd kiсkеd thе blаnket to thе grоund, revеаling а sight that stirrеd the blооd. Yes! Thоugh shе was nоt particulаrly voluptuоus аnd wаs toо delicatе—suсh а slendеr frаmе might nоt еvеn beаr сhildren—hе found himsеlf irresistibly drаwn.
His furiоus еуes ignitеd with а blаzе of desire, flаshing wantonly in his blue irises. Нis thick lips, like аn eaglе’s, plundеrеd evеry inch of skin on her neck, a trail of fierce kiss marks extending from her throat to her pert peaks...
“No! Don’t!” She could endure pain, but she could not bear this humiliation! Heaven! Did he intend to violate her? “Don’t touch me!”
His kisses hurt her and terrified her!
“Beg me!” He halted his assault, his eyes locking onto hers.
She bit her lip, turning her face away, refusing this shame.
He leaned down to kiss her again, but this time it was no longer a punitive kiss—it was a seduction, as if he sought to ignite her passion.
“Don’t touch me! You filthy Khitan!”
She wanted to provoke him, to make him so angry he would strike her dead with a single blow! Yet, instead of fury, his eyes held a wicked gleam. “In this camp, there are seventy men who haven’t touched a woman in over half a month. If you don’t beg me, prepare to become the plaything of seventy Khitan men! I have better ways to destroy you than a knife!”
“You—”
“I am the king here. No one dares touch what belongs to me. Once I declare you are not my woman, you’ll be violated to death before nightfall!”
He watched with satisfaction as fear filled her eyes, leisurely awaiting her plea—he had to make her understand that he was not someone she could defy.
The mere thought of being violated by seventy men sent shivers through her entire body! He was a savage, a barbarian who knew nothing of shame! So, using his power to oppress a woman like her was nothing out of the ordinary. He had made it clear—submitting to him would make her his exclusive whore; disobedience would lead to...
To think the esteemed eldest daughter of the Jun family had fallen to such a state...
“Still won’t beg? Fine!” He rose, lifting her as if to carry her out of the tent.
“No! Please—don’t!” She choked back a sob, her hands clutching his neck in terror...
He had stripped her of even her last shred of dignity! Heaven! She had never truly hated anyone in her life, but at this moment, she hated him with all her being! Her tear-streaked face buried in the crook of his neck, her clenched fists pounded helplessly against his shoulders... Knowing he felt no pain, she could not suppress the hatred burning within her.Yelü Lie felt a surge of pity rising in his heart; her sorrowful, tearful state made her seem both unfamiliar and shocking to him! He had never known a woman's tears could affect him so deeply. He tried hard to shake off this inexplicable feeling and set her back down on the bed; grabbing the clothes from the table, he dressed her piece by piece—underwear, underclothes, middle garment, and the robe of Khitan attire—a rare snow-white brocade trimmed with sable fur; then the long skirt, and finally the lambskin boots—her feet were so small, so delicate.
He had never dressed anyone before; in fact, apart from this period in the Helan Mountains, his clothes had always been put on by maidservants. And now he was dressing her so naturally! Even more unbelievable was that he knelt on one knee, letting her snow-white lotus feet rest on his knee as he put on her socks and boots.
Jun Qiluo stopped sobbing; she had thought he would next take her body with pride and roughness. That he did not do so already astonished her greatly, let alone him dressing her, especially the boots...
She gently touched her chest with her hands, staring blankly at him; and as he finished tying her bootlaces, he looked up, meeting her gaze.
Somehow, she could no longer look directly at him; she quickly turned her face away, feeling a genuine warmth spreading across her cheeks.
"How old are you?" he asked softly.
"Twenty." His gentleness made her uneasy instead.
He turned her face back toward him. "Are you married?"
"No."
"Why?" At twenty, whether inside or outside the border, she should have already borne several children.
She closed her mouth, unwilling to answer or meet his penetrating blue eyes.
"Your name is Qiluo? Jun Qiluo?"
"Yes." She knew the blood jade had given him the answer.
"Look at me!" he commanded.
She had no choice but to look at him.
Then he declared, "I am Yelü Lie, your master."
※ ※ ※
This bandit den housed only four women: her, the cook, and two women who had suddenly arrived from the Western Xia border two days ago.
Even the most oblivious person could guess what these two women were here for! She knew the Western Xia people were deeply influenced by Tang culture, but she could not believe that even now, over eighty years after the fall of the Tang Dynasty, there were still women who would wear such revealing attire, blatantly making it clear what they did for a living. Revealing attire was popular in the late Tang Dynasty, and as the trend grew increasingly daring, women eventually stopped wearing inner garments altogether, directly exposing their chests; at that time, even some vulgar poets composed verses about it, such as "powdered chest half-hidden like dark snow," and such lowly poems were widely circulated and relished.
However, the Great Song Dynasty imposed strict requirements and constraints on women. Regardless of whether it was men's selfish desire to suppress the rising influence of Tang women to prevent another era of excess where women climbed to the top, Jun Qiluo simply could not imagine women who would so cheapen their own bodies, dressing so provocatively as if afraid they would not be seen enough!When she disguised herself as Jun Feifan to discuss business with others in brothel taverns, the singers and dancers there, even those who sold their bodies, dared not casually reveal a bit of skin in public. Merely exposing an ankle was already considered improper, let alone comparing themselves to the wantonness of these two Western Xia women, who might as well have written the word "prostitute" on their faces.
They set up a pink tent for the two women in the woods about three zhang away from the camp. Every evening after sunset, once the drills were finished, a crowd of men would line up outside the Red Tent.
Jun Qiluo found their behavior disgusting, but the two voluptuous women mocked her with their eyes, implying she was not much nobler, and even ridiculed her in the Khitan language. What was even more laughable was that these two women were actually jealous that she was the leader's exclusive woman!
Yes, how noble was she, after all? Captured for four days, he was in no hurry to take her, yet he slept with her on the same heated bed every night. She often woke up to find herself curled in his arms—because of the cold.
In Jiangnan, the autumn weather only turned slightly cool, but here in the northwest, especially in the mountainous regions, frost at night was nothing unusual. No matter how warm the fur robes were, they could not compare to the warmth of his body, especially when she felt cold. Her body would unconsciously curl into his embrace. This was uncontrollable unless she stayed awake all night.
Last night, she forced herself to retreat to the corner of the bed, turning her back to him.
Every night after finishing his martial arts practice, he would sit at the table and read for a while, then blow out the candle at the third watch and lie down on the heated bed, bare-chested. He knew she was not asleep; even her hair seemed to stand on end. So, he turned her body to face him, gazing at her in the faint moonlight.
"Do not turn your back to me. If you cannot sleep, we can do something else!" His eyes were more brazen than his actions.
As a result, last night, he kissed every inch of her upper body with his lips, his eyes filled with mockery and something akin to anticipation as he stared at her face. She could only keep thinking that he was torturing her dignity, that he was gradually taking control of her body, step by step, turning her into one of those shameless Western Xia women who would emit lewd moans. The terrifying thing was that this man was slowly gaining control over her body, and she could do nothing to stop it. She could only constantly remind herself not to sink to that level. Once her body yielded to the desires he stirred, she would be no different from a prostitute! There was a world of difference between actively yielding and being forcibly taken.
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