In the dead of night, a band of bloodthirsty bandits slithered out of their hidden lair, cloaked in the thick veil of darkness. Their movements were silent, their intentions murderous. Like venomous vipers, they struck without warning, their cold blades slicing through the throats of the drunken guards, leaving headless corpses to crumple to the ground. The bandits moved swiftly into the homes, slaughtering the sleeping villagers with a cruel efficiency, their blades plunging into flesh, silencing muffled gasps forever.

But even the most meticulous predators can't escape the inevitable misstep. As they crept from one blood-soaked house to the next,a lone villager, unable to sleep, awoke to the nightmare unfolding around him. His scream of terror pierced the night, shattering the silence and rousing the villagers. But his cry was cut short as a bandit's sword cleaved through his neck, his severed head thudding to the floor, eyes still wide in horror. Blood pooled around his lifeless body, soaking into the cold floor.

Instead of retreating, the bandits reveled in the chaos. The scent of fear had awakened the bloodlust within them. They no longer cared to conceal their presence. With wild, unrestrained fury, they split up—some hunted down the terrified villagers who had awakened to the nightmare, cutting them down as they fled in desperation. Others pillaged the homes, tearing through belongings, setting fire to anything they couldn't carry. And some indulged their lust, forcing themselves upon the helpless women.

One girl, shivering in terror, tried to flee, but a bandit caught up to her, shoving her to the ground. He pinned her wrists with one hand, while his other hand tore away her clothing. Her screams and pleas for mercy only fueled his vile excitement. Ripping away the last of her garments, he gagged her with his hand to muffle her cries, his other hand pawing at her breast. With a sadistic grin, he thrust himself inside her, indifferent to her pain as blood began to seep from her privates. In agony, she bit down on his hand.

"You filthy bitch!" the bandit snarled, his voice dripping with rage. Without hesitation, he slit her throat with a vicious swipe of his blade, continuing to violate her even as she choked on her own blood, her life slipping away.

"Oi, Old Third! The chief told us not to damage the goods," another bandit called out, a sneer in his voice. "You're gonna get your ass beat, and he'll dock the cost from your share."

"She should be grateful I even bothered with her," Old Third spat, wiping his blade on her lifeless body. "Little bitch deserved it for biting me."

At the northern corner of the village, a tall, well-built man stood in tense argument with a scrawny villager, both gripping a hoe and pickaxe, their faces set with grim determination.

"The bandits have already taken most of the village," the tall man growled, his eyes fixed on the chaos unfolding in the distance. "You think running will save you? They'll hunt you down like wild animals and butcher you where you stand."

"But facing them head-on is suicide!" the skinny man retorted, fear seeping into his voice. "They'll carve us up like meat!"

"At least we stand a chance if we fight together," the tall man sighed, his resolve unshaken. Raising his voice, he called out to the others, "Hide your women and children! Prepare yourselves—they'll be here any moment!"

He then turned to a young girl, no older than seventeen. "Ling'er, go hide with your mother and aunt. Father and Uncle Wu will face those bandits."

Tears filled the girl's eyes as she hugged her father tightly. "Father, please come back to us," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

A woman approached, her face pale but determined. She wrapped her arms around them both, her voice soft but pleading. "Dear, please come back safe."

Before the man could respond, slow, mocking applause cut through the night. A figure in leather armor emerged from the shadows, a twisted grin on his face, a sword hanging at his side. More bandits followed, their eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation.

"Well, isn't this a touching little scene?" the bandit chief sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Too bad it's the last time you'll ever see each other."

"Chief, let's gut them all! My blade's thirsty for blood!" one of the bandits shouted, his face contorted with eager anticipation.

The chief's grin widened. "Kill the men. Capture the women and children. And don't you fucking dare to damage the goods!"

"Got it, Chief!" the bandits roared in unison, charging at the villagers with wild fury.

The tall man and the other villagers braced themselves, clutching their makeshift weapons. But their resolve was no match for the bloodthirsty bandits. The villagers were slaughtered, their bodies falling in heaps, hacked apart like livestock at a butcher's block.

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The tall man managed to block the bandit chief's initial strike with his hoe, gritting his teeth as he pushed back with all his might. But the chief only chuckled, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. With a single, brutal swing, the chief's sword cleaved through the hoe, splitting the man's skull in two. His head rolled to the ground, blood spurting from the stump as his body crumpled beside it.

"No! Father!" Ling'er screamed, running to her father's lifeless body. Her cries merged with her mother's anguished wails as they fell to the ground, clutching the blood-soaked corpse.

"Dear, no! Please, no!" the woman sobbed, her hands shaking as she tried to hold onto her husband's remains.

The bandits finished off the remaining men, their laughter echoing in the night as they corralled the terrified women and children into a tight group.

"Today's haul is pretty damn good," one bandit remarked, wiping blood from his blade. He eyed the trembling captives with a wicked grin. "We've hit the jackpot."

"Especially this little one," another bandit added, leering at Ling'er. "She's top quality. Could fetch ten gold, easy. Hell, I'd love to break her myself."

"Touch her and you're dead," a third bandit sneered. "Chief will have your head if you mess with the merchandise."

Suddenly, one of the women broke free, her eyes wild with desperation. She grabbed a fallen sword and pointed it at the nearest bandit. "Let my daughter go, or I'll kill you!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fear and fury.

The bandit laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "Give me that sword, you stupid bitch, or I'll gut you right here," he snarled, pulling a dagger from his sleeve.

Tears streamed down the woman's face as she begged, "Please, let my daughter go. I'll do anything—just don't hurt her!"

The bandit's smile twisted into something even darker. "Anything, huh? We're gonna take turns fucking your little daughter. And when we're done, we'll sell her to a brothel where she'll be a whore... forever."

The woman's eyes filled with a desperate, fiery resolve. "Don't you dare touch my daughter!" she screamed, lunging at the bandit with the sword.

"You fucking bitch!" the bandit roared, easily deflecting her attack with his dagger. He shoved her to the ground and began stabbing her over and over, his blade plunging into her flesh again and again. Blood sprayed across the dirt, her screams turning to wet, gurgling gasps as she fought for breath.

Mei Ling jolted awake, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead. "That nightmare again..."

For years, the same twisted dream haunted her, forcing her to relive the brutal slaughter of her parents over and over. Their faces, twisted in agony, refused to fade. After they were gone, she was sold to a slave trader, eventually ending up in the Lin family's possession.

She had been working in the Lin Mansion for a year now, biding her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to exact her revenge. That chance had finally come. She had been assigned as a maid to a newly awakened cultivator. The first time she met him, he looked young and naive—perfect for her plans. If she could seduce him, make him fall for her, she might finally have her revenge on those bandits. The thought of seeing them drown in their own blood was the only thing that brought her any peace.

Her first opportunity presented itself when he asked her to wash his back. As she slowly moved her hands from his back to his chest, she deliberately brushed her breasts against him. But instead of succumbing to her advances, he leaned forward, pulling away from her touch, and dismissed her.

Later, when she returned from the clan's resource hall with their daily supplies, she found him sprawled out on her bed. A smirk tugged at her lips. "If you're this eager," she thought, "you should've just said so."

But when he woke up, he acted as if he were in his own room, making a half-hearted excuse about being too sleepy to know where he was and not knowing which room was his. "Really?" she thought, irritation simmering beneath her calm exterior. "Even a child could tell it's the master bedroom at the opposite end of the hallway."

The next morning, after she brought him breakfast, he barely ate half of it, leaving the rest untouched. Her anger flared. How could he waste such expensive food like this? But then he told her to eat the leftovers—spirit rice and Tier 1 beast meat. Even if she were sold ten times over, she still couldn't afford it. So she refused, knowing that if anyone caught a mortal like her eating such luxury, it would mean a severe beating, if not worse. He didn't press her further, instead asking her to lead him to the clan's library.

He returned from the library late in the evening, heading straight to his chamber without giving her a chance to speak. "Don't disturb me until morning," he ordered, closing the door behind him.

Frustrated, Mei Ling got out of bed, pushed the window open, and tied the curtains back. A fresh gust of wind brushed against her face, her silver hair rustling in the breeze. The sun was beginning to rise, so she hurried to the bathroom for a warm bath. After drying her hair, she selected a long-sleeved blue robe and a matching skirt from her wardrobe. She tied a dark leather belt around her waist and pinned her hair into a bun with a simple hairpin.

Once dressed, she went to the kitchen to prepare the young master's breakfast. An hour later, with the meal ready, she arranged everything neatly on a tray and made her way to his room. She knocked softly on the door, her voice gentle, "Young Master, are you awake? This servant has brought your breakfast."

She heard footsteps approaching, and soon the door swung open to reveal him standing there, damp hair clinging to his forehead, a towel slung low around his hips, his bare chest glistening with water. His abs looked like they were carved from stone.

"Good morning, Young Master," she greeted him with a warm smile. "Shall I help you get dressed?"

He returned her smile, shaking his head. "No need, I can manage."

Mei Ling mentally steeled herself. You need to be bold, or this won't go anywhere.

"No, young master, let this servant assist you," she insisted, her tone firm yet respectful.

He hesitated for a moment before relenting. "Well, if you insist."

She walked to his wardrobe and selected a black robe with gold patterns. As she helped him dress, she didn't miss the opportunity to press her body against his, brushing her breasts against his back and hands as she smoothed out the creases in the fabric.