Chapter 6: Codename 47! (5)

The Cold Hall, the Crown Princess Forced to Serve! (5)

Hearing that single word, "good," Chu Yang only furrowed his long brows. He lifted his foot and stepped onto her voluptuous chest, which still bore his finger marks and teeth indentations, and roared in fury.

"What exactly is so good about that man that it's worth you doing all this for him?!"

Ten years ago, how proud she had been. That head, always held so high, had never once bowed before him, nor had she ever even looked him in the eye.

And now, she proactively stripped her clothes to serve beneath him, all for the sake of nothing more than that man's foolish, simple-minded daughter. How could he not hate her!

The young Crown Princess was clad in nothing, her black hair spreading in disarray across the deep cyan stone floor.

The body beneath the blood-stained, cold boots was covered in the man's hickeys and finger marks, yet she remained as holy as a lotus emerging from water.

"He is inferior to you in every way, but I am his wife!"

Chu Yang's pupils rapidly constricted into points, and the killing intent that had just begun to subside condensed once more.

"Lin Ying, I will make you watch with your own eyes as I take the whole world into my palm. When that time comes, you will realize that your choice back then was a mistake!"

Turning abruptly, he strode toward the hall doors.

The young girl, whose gaze had previously been somewhat dazed, suddenly turned her eyes toward Chu Yang's retreating back.

What kind of gaze was that? There was not a shred of timidity or shrinking; it was as cold and calm as a sword unsheathed from its scabbard.

It radiated killing intent and a chilling aura, as if she intended to take in every detail of the man in black armor and engrave it into her heart.

That was absolutely not the gaze of a child of a few years!

Only someone who had experienced countless asuras could possibly maintain such composure in this cold hall reeking of blood, and even have the inclination to carefully memorize the face of their enemy.

Sensing that scorching gaze and the murderous intent that sent a chill down his spine, the man in black armor instinctively turned his head.

However, he saw that the girl sitting on the ground had already stood up and was walking toward Lin Ying, bending down to pick up the dress she had taken off.

That must have been an illusion just now. How could that foolish little brat possess killing intent?!

Like father, like daughter—how could that bookworm Dugu Zhonghua, who knew nothing but playing the zither and reciting poetry, have fathered such a seed?