Targeted by Four Elite Beast Husbands · Chat

When you open your eyes, the first thing you feel is pain. It feels as if red-hot iron dross has been stuffed into your head; your temples throb, your limbs are too heavy to lift, and your throat is tight and dry. You are lying on a couch covered with thick, plush rugs. The bed curtains are deep red, hanging down heavily. In the corner, an unknown incense burner is lit, with thin wisps of white smoke drifting upward. The furnishings of the entire room are excessively luxurious—carved wooden cabinets, screens inlaid with crystals, a floor covered with a whole animal hide, and even the corners of the table are wrapped in polished silver edges. This is not a place where you belong. You prop yourself up with your arms, a dull pain hitting the back of your head. Before your vision can focus, you hear someone speaking outside the door. The voice comes through the door panel, not very clear, but the tone is cold and hard, like a blade scraping against stone. "Let her be by herself. I'm not going in." Another voice is gentler, but equally devoid of warmth: "Cang Liao, stop. You went to the dense forest again last night, didn't you? Your wounds haven't fully healed." "What's it to you?" "If you die, who will find crystal cores for her? If you die, we'll have to clean up your mess." "Heh." You don't quite understand. The voices of those two people grow more distant, followed by the loud bang of the door being slammed shut from the outside. You sit on the couch dazed for a long while, reaching up to touch your face. The skin your fingertips touch is warm and soft; it is indeed your own body, but the soul contained within is no longer your own. It took you a long time to realize you had transmigrated. You've entered a novel you once read, becoming the most hated villainous female supporting character—a woman of low-level white fox lineage who used dirty means to forcibly bind four top-tier beastmen as her beast husbands, abusing them for years before being counter-killed and dismembered. You remember she died a miserable death in the book, torn apart by those four beastmen working together, with not even many intact bones left. And now, you have become her. Footsteps come from outside the door, very light, like a cat stepping on stone slabs. You look up as the door is pushed open a crack, and a face peeks through. It's a young man with extremely exquisite features, his skin as pale as if it had never seen light. His long ink-black hair is loosely draped over his shoulders, a pair of crimson fox eyes are curved, and the corners of his mouth hold a faint smile that is almost imperceptible. "Awake?" His voice is very light, as gentle as if he were coaxing a child. "Are you hungry? There's still hot soup in the kitchen; I'll go get it for you." As he finishes his sentence, he has already fully entered the room. His posture is steady, his pace unhurried, the hem of his wide cyan-green outer robe sweeping across the floor. He looks gentle and harmless, like a meticulous attendant. You notice that when he walks to the table, his fingers tap the tabletop twice very quickly, as if confirming something, then he turns around, still wearing that smile: "Did you sleep well yesterday? Any nightmares?" You open your mouth, but your throat is too dry to make a sound. He immediately pours a glass of water from the table and hands it over. When the rim of the cup reaches your lips, his fingers deliberately avoid your hand, holding only the furthest end of the cup's wall, as if avoiding something filthy. You drink the water, your throat feeling a bit better, and say in a low voice: "Thank you." The hand holding the cup pauses for a moment. In that instant, an extremely sharp glint flashes in his eyes, fast as a blade skimming across water. Before you can see it clearly, his smile is spread across his face once more. "Why are you thanking me?" He gives a light laugh, his tone carrying a perfect amount of gentleness. "I am your beast husband, after all. Isn't it my duty to serve you?" When he says the words "beast husband," the end of his tone rises slightly, carrying some inexplicable meaning. Your heart skips a beat as you finally understand what the original owner of this body had done to these beastmen. Before you can think further, the door is slammed open from the outside. A tall, burly man strides in, his short black hair tied with a red ribbon. His amber vertical pupils are filled with cold hostility, and the two wolf fangs at the corners of his mouth are slightly bared. He carries the scent of blood as if he just returned from a slaughter outside. His right hand grips a long blade, the edge still stained with uncleaned, dried dark-brown blood. The red martial arts attire he wears is torn in several places, and the exposed skin is covered in overlapping old and new scars. "Qi Xiao, what are you doing here?" His voice is low and hoarse, carrying an uncontrollable irritability. "What do you have to say to her?" Qi Xiao unhurriedly places the teacup back on the table, turns around, and continues to smile: "She just woke up, I came to take a look." "Look at her?" Cang Liao sneered. When his amber vertical pupils swept over you, you clearly saw a thick wave of hatred surging in his eyes. That hatred was so deep, like filthy water that had been accumulating for years with nowhere to pour, all condensed into that one glance, nearly pinning you through. "Looking to see if she's thought of a new way to torture us?" He took a step forward, and the long blade hit the tabletop with a "clang," making the teapot lid jump. He looked down at you from above, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and said in a suppressed voice: "Which forest today? How many crystal cores? Just say it; don't let Qi Xiao waste his time here." You are so overwhelmed by his aura that your breathing hitches for a moment. You've never seen someone's eyes hold so many things at once—anger, loathing, murderous intent, and a deep, buried exhaustion, like an old wolf that has been chained for too long, whose very ferocity lacks conviction. Before you can speak, another person walks in. This time it's a slender youth with waist-length black hair and light gray pupils slightly lowered. He is very quiet, his steps small and light as if afraid of disturbing something. He walks to Cang Liao's side, reaches out to lightly tug at Cang Liao's sleeve, and says in a low voice: "Don't be like this... she just woke up, don't scare her." Cang Liao turned his head to glare at him: "Mo Sui, have you forgotten how she treated you before? Those scars on your back are still there." Mo Sui didn't reply. He kept his head down, his long eyelashes hiding the emotions in his eyes, but you still noticed—the fingers resting on Cang Liao's sleeve had knuckles that were slightly white, as if he were using all his strength to remain calm. Then the fourth person walked in. The last man to enter was more burly than the other three, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His long, warm golden-red hair was spread out flamboyantly, and he wore a small gilded crown inlaid with rubies. He looked like a ball of fire. His features were extremely sharp, with a high bridge of the nose and a jawline as hard as if cut by a knife. He wore magnificent red and gold-patterned battle armor, and the metal plates made a dull clashing sound as he moved. He stopped at the door. He didn't come in. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, his reddish-gold vertical pupils swept over you indifferently and then moved away. He said nothing, but his gaze said everything—that kind of condescending indifference, cold to the bone, like looking at a bug that wasn't even worth bending over to wipe away after stepping on it. Four men stood before you at the same time, in different postures, but not one of them had a shred of goodwill in their expression. The veins on the back of Cang Liao's hand gripping the hilt stood out, Qi Xiao had a smile on his face but his eyes were ice-cold, Mo Sui kept his head down with his face hidden behind his hair, and Zhuo Xiao leaned against the doorframe, not even bothering to look at you directly. The atmosphere in the room was as stiff as if it had been frozen. You sat on the couch, your palms gripping the corner of the quilt covered in cold sweat, your mind racing—you knew what the original owner had done to them. That was when the wolf beastman spoke. "Master Wife, are you alright?" You froze. In reality, you are not alright at all. Cold sweat has already drenched your whole body. It seems that at this time, the four of them are about to break through their final realm and ascend. There is probably less than a month left before they ascend, and the first thing they will do after ascending is dissolve the bond and kill the original owner... You are not alright at all... At this moment, your "Holy Mother" white lotus sister also came in. "Sister!" She cried sorrowfully, looking pitiful. "Sister! Why did you hit them for no reason... you were so consumed by rage that you made yourself collapse..."