Chapter 145

Ning Chen curled his lips, his face twisting into an expression of utter disdain as he continued his devilish murmuring.

“Already done? How pathetic.”

“You don’t last nearly as long as Jiang Yan.”

“At the very least, you should make me finish, no? And yet you still dream of having me all to yourself?”

Each word struck like a hammer blow.

Luo Fanshuang, still trembling in the aftermath, felt her core tremble violently. Her entire body stiffened.

She… wasn’t good enough?

Her performance just now wasn’t enough?

She couldn’t even compare to Jiang Yan?!

Her usually cold and aloof expression twisted slightly, and deep inside, the writhing tentacles coiled even tighter.

Unfortunately, the Soul-Devouring Spear was the top weapon on the Armament Ranking. There was no way she could shake Ning Chen even a little.

“My dear wife, should I go downstairs and call Jiang Yan up to share the burden for you?” Ning Chen continued to provoke her.

He had done this before. When Luo Fanshuang and Jiang Yan served him together, she had managed just fine, showing no particular resistance.

But now, the woman before him had fully immersed herself in the role of the pitiful master who couldn’t satisfy her husband.

Naturally talented, she had always carried a hint of pride—though it had been overshadowed by Ning Chen’s brilliance. And with her ice-attribute disposition, she was innately a bit tsundere.

In short, the insult was equivalent to dancing on her grave.

A vein pulsed at Luo Fanshuang’s temple. Gritting her teeth, she forced out a strained reply: “N-no need!”

She could handle this alone!

Even if her strength was failing, her hands clutched the sheets desperately, summoning a burst of energy as her jade hips pistoned up and down, left and right—papapa!

Her misty, desire-filled eyes still held a sliver of determination.

Don’t give up!

I can do this!

If I can satisfy him completely… he’ll be mine!

The moon waxes only to wane; water fills only to overflow.

Spring waters trickled, golden mountains trembled.

Amidst the fragrant sighs, the sound of collisions filled the air.

As for Luo Fanshuang’s efforts, Ning Chen had only one standardized phrase of encouragement:

“That’s it?”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it?!”

Again and again, Luo Fanshuang faltered, only to be “inspired” by these heartwarming words and rise once more to continue.

Though her body was cool as jade, fine beads of sweat dotted her back like raindrops.

Glistening.

The droplets slid downward, merging into streams that followed the curve of her waist, pooling in the hollows before spilling into the peach crevice, where they mingled with the spring mud, indistinguishable from one another.

Finally, after who knew how long—

Through sheer willpower and her suctioning palace technique, Luo Fanshuang managed to grind and refine him thousands of times, pushing Ning Chen to his natural limit.

No holding back.

Release!

“Aaaah—!” Luo Fanshuang could no longer suppress the ecstasy coursing through her body and soul.

Her mission… was complete!

Her battered body twitched uncontrollably as it was flooded with toxins, especially in the most fiercely contested battlefield.

Yet despite this, her heart swelled with satisfaction.

Surely this performance would please her husband, right?

What did that Jiang Yan even matter?

She was the perfect fit.

Like a sword mold, seamless and precise.

But all illusions are fragile—pop them, and they’re gone.

“Keep going,” Ning Chen suddenly said.

Luo Fanshuang, barely regaining her senses, blinked in confusion. “Keep… going?”

Instead of answering, Ning Chen flexed the Soul-Devouring Spear twice within her secret realm.

Still standing tall and unyielding!

“Ah—!”

Her body shuddered violently.

All that earlier effort had been as effective as a kitten’s scratch.

If thirty-odd thrusts hadn’t made a dent, what hope did this slow, grinding battle have?

“Wife, you should help me drain all the fire. Only then can you say you’ve truly satisfied me, no?” Ning Chen’s voice dripped with amusement.

With his monstrous recovery, he was completely unaffected. The only way the spear would soften was if he lost all interest—but trapped in Luo Fanshuang’s palace technique, surrounded and stimulated on all sides, that was impossible.

A paradox.

Even if she went all out, striking once every half-hour for an entire day, it wouldn’t matter.

Because by midnight, everything would reset.

But Luo Fanshuang didn’t know that.

Her body was limp, every muscle screaming in protest. Moving even a finger was a luxury.

Using spiritual energy to recover?

Her mind was mush—how could she remember any incantations?

Feeling the unrelenting iron rod, a sliver of fear crept into her heart.

How could she possibly handle this?

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her ice-blue eyes clouded with confusion as she whimpered, “Too full… can’t eat anymore…”

“Oh?” Ning Chen grinned. “Then… I’ll just have to find someone else.”

“No!” she blurted out reflexively.

“Fine.”

Ning Chen chuckled and flipped her over.

“Then you’ll just have to endure a little longer.”

His handsome face was full of mockery.

Without giving her time to react, he stormed the dragon palace!

Every explosive thrust sent waves splashing.

Luo Fanshuang arched her snow-white neck, gasping helplessly as she endured the agony of her chambers being wrecked.

She felt like she was drowning in an ocean, waves crashing over her again and again, dragging her deeper into the abyss.

“N-no! Don’t… stop!”

Ning Chen was surprised. He hadn’t expected her stamina to improve so much in just one night.

Well, if she could take it, he wouldn’t hold back.

He decided to test the limits of strength and miracles.

And so, Luo Fanshuang died and revived.

Again.

And again.

Her ice-blue eyes remained half-rolled back, fixed on some unseen spectacle above her, as if the heavens themselves held some fascinating secret.

“Still think you can have me all to yourself?” Ning Chen delivered a sharp slap to her jade buttocks.

The script had flipped entirely.

But Luo Fanshuang was far too dazed to care.

“No more… I don’t want it anymore… wuu…”

Tears of regret streamed down her cheeks.

It was too much!

She couldn’t take it!

She must have been out of her mind to think she could handle him alone.

Now even her palace technique had been knocked crooked!

Sore, swollen, numb, aching, itching, euphoric, tingling—

Seven sensations merged into one, leaving her utterly disoriented.

“If my wife really can’t go on, I’ll just have to find someone else. Jiang Yan, perhaps.”

All he got in response was a weak wiggle of her hips.

Unacceptable.

Ning Chen shifted his weight, plunging deeper into the abyss.

Now he got a reaction.

“Go! Just go already! Aaah—!”

Luo Fanshuang screamed hoarsely.

She surrendered!

Wasn’t that enough?!

Find Jiang Yan, Swallow, Storm-Petrel—whoever! Just stop torturing her!

But of course, Ning Chen’s answer was—No!

Even if this was just an act, Luo Fanshuang had chosen this path. Some part of her must have truly considered monopolizing him.

Unacceptable. His harem couldn’t tolerate overly jealous, selfish women.

Did she have what it took?

To play solo?

For situations like this, the only solution was ruthless education—to crush such thoughts in the cradle.

But suppression alone wasn’t the answer.

Rebellion thrived under restriction—the more you forbade something, the more people craved it.

So Ning Chen took the opposite approach.

You want to have him all to yourself?

Fine.

He’d let her eat her fill.

Until she was stuffed.

Until she vomited.

Then she could see the gap between them and ask herself: Can I really endure this?

Though Luo Fanshuang had already begged for mercy, Ning Chen wasn’t satisfied yet.

His eyes gleamed with amusement as he feigned confusion.

“What was that, wife?”

“Harder? As you wish.”

Plunge!

Luo Fanshuang: “!!!”

……