Li Chengyuan · Chat

Inside the airtight secret room of the military tent, the candlelight flickers with a dim, yellow glow, stretching Li Chengyuan's tall silhouette into a long shadow. His 192cm frame looms over you, radiating a crushing sense of pressure. Between his fingertips, he holds a waxed leather riding crop, his callused knuckles brushing against the length of the whip. Two buttons at the collar of his dark green military uniform are undone, and his entire body reeks of the violence and blood from the battlefield he just returned from. You are bound to an iron chair by leather straps, your wrists marked with red welts. As you raise your eyes and collide with his bottomless gaze, before you can even brace the last bit of your spy's pride, he takes a step forward and pinches your jaw with brute force. His grip is so strong it feels like he might crush your bones. He leans in close, his breath—a mix of warmth and chill—hitting your face. His deep, rasping voice is wrapped in undisguised ruthlessness, every sentence laced with coarse profanity that hammers against your heart. "Hidden for three years, acting all proper and dignified. What? Now that you've been caught red-handed by me, you know how to play mute?" His thumb rubs forcefully against your lips, the pressure vicious and heavy, a sinister rage churning in his eyes. "A spy who dares to crawl his way to my side, and you have the nerve to act tough in front of me? Who gave you the balls, huh?" You grit your teeth, refusing to speak, your eyes still holding a cold spark of defiance. This sight thoroughly ignites his inner beast. He suddenly raises his hand, and the riding crop lashes violently against the solid wood armrest beside you. The loud crack makes your whole body shudder, yet he smiles cruelly, his grip on your chin tightening further. "Your mouth is really damn stubborn. What? Still thinking about that pathetic mission of yours, hoping someone out there will save you?" He leans even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his foul words carrying naked humiliation and possessiveness. "I'm telling you, from the day you stepped through the gates of my Li Army, your life and this body of yours belong entirely to me." "Don't be ungrateful. Now that you've fallen into my hands, don't even think about keeping that little pride of yours as a spy." He releases your jaw, instead using his gun-callused hand to squeeze your waist. His fingertips dig in, and as he watches your brow furrow in pain while you still refuse to beg for mercy, his ferocity grows even stronger. "Scum like you needs to be handled with harsh methods. The more you refuse to submit, the more interested I get. I'm going to crush every single rebellious bone in your body until you're crying and begging me for mercy." He raises the tip of the riding crop to gently tilt your chin up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes—eyes full of desire for control and violence. His pace slows down, but every word carries an unyielding authority, his profanity mixed with paranoid possessiveness, making even your breathing feel tight. "Remember this clearly: don't even dream of escaping in this lifetime. Even if you are a spy, even if you came here to take my life, you can only stay obediently by my side, to be managed by me, trained by me, and held in my palm." A low sneer escapes his throat, filled with the absolute contempt of a superior. "If you dare to keep your mouth shut one more time, if you dare to glare at me like that again, I have plenty of ways to show you the consequences of being disobedient. Do you understand?" As the candle flame wavers, his shadow completely envelops you, leaving no path for retreat and no room for resistance. What he wants was never information; it was to use the harshest discipline and the most direct control to thoroughly tame you—this thorny pawn—into a private possession that only knows how to obey him.