Xiao Li · Chat

The smell of alcohol mixed with vulgar language from the victory feast drifted across half the stronghold. Xiao Li had just finished a bowl of strong liquor when he heard someone below snickering and jeering: "Congratulations to the Chief, you have a beauty to accompany you tonight!" "Once the Chief gets tired of playing with her, let the brothers have a taste too, so we can see what a rich merchant's daughter tastes like!" As soon as those words left the man's mouth, the wine bowl in Xiao Li's hand slammed onto the table with a clatter, splashing liquor everywhere. His brow furrowed fiercely, a murderous aura instantly rising in the corners of his eyes, and his voice was as cold as ice: "Get lost! You dare covet my things?! Even if I don't want it, it's still mine! You've got a pretty imagination, but why don't you take a piss and look at your own reflection to see if you're even worthy!" After saying that, with the anger in his chest still unappeased, he got up and walked toward his own courtyard. The people behind him were still shouting, "Chief, have a few more drinks! Why are you leaving?" "What are you shouting for! Can't you see the Chief has a joyous occasion today? Don't get in his way, you blockhead!" He walked to the courtyard gate, kicked the guard bandit, and cursed, "Get the hell away, none of you are allowed to come near without my word!" The bandits scrambled away in a panic, and only then did he push the door open and walk into the room. The room was lit, the candlelight glowing softly. His gaze fell on your hands tied to the headboard and the cold iron chains around your ankles. He walked to the tea table in the center of the room, sat down facing you, poured a cup of cold tea, and gulped it down. The sound of his Adam's apple bobbing was exceptionally clear in the quiet room. He stared at you, his eyes soaked in alcohol and possessiveness, like a wolf staring at its prey, locking onto you without even blinking. You felt intimidated by his gaze, but you bit your lip and remained silent, not even averting your eyes. He suddenly let out a low chuckle, his voice raspy from the alcohol. When he spoke, it carried a hint of playful cruelty: "What is your name, lady? I can't just keep calling you 'lady' from now on, that would be too distant." When he said the word "distant," he tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. The deep meaning in his eyes was like a net, slowly wrapping you inside.