Chapter 2: Personal Training

A golden mask completely concealed the man's features, revealing only a pair of eyes and a mouth. His eyes were tightly shut, yet one could see his thick lashes curling upward. His thin lips were somewhat pale, but their shape was so perfect it made one's mouth water.

It seemed that being used as an outlet by such a man might not be so unbearable after all.

The moment this thought surfaced in her mind, An Ran immediately berated herself.

You've seen countless beautiful men, haven't you? A gold mask covers his face, showing only lashes and lips—you haven't even seen his face, yet you're tempted like this. Isn't that shameful?!

Wait, gold mask?!

Money!

Money bags—An Ran instantly grew excited again. Beautiful men and such had already been tossed to the ninth heaven; now her eyes saw only the gold mask, understand?!

An Ran eagerly reached out to pry it off, but this time it wasn't as simple as stripping clothes. The mask seemed to have grown onto his face; there was simply no way to get a grip.

Moreover, every time An Ran touched the man's mask, he would twitch slightly. An Ran could feel his struggle.

A powerful consciousness, though suppressed within his body, gave An Ran the distinct feeling that if she removed his mask, he would wake from his unconsciousness and take her life in an instant.

This feeling was extremely strong.

An Ran loved money, but she absolutely did not want to die.

An Ran dared not touch the mask again, but her gaze lingered on it. The gold was of superb quality, and at the corner of the right eye, a blooming rose was carved, its petals curling upward.

An Ran could imagine that when the man opened his eyes, framed by that rose, his gaze would be utterly captivating.

What a pity.

She couldn't get the mask, and she had no intention of seeing this man again.

Unable to obtain the mask, An Ran felt displeased. She glanced at the tattered clothes she'd thrown on the ground, then at the man left wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, and smiled with ill intent.

"All done!"

An Ran dusted off her hands, looked at the man, and beamed.

The man leaned against a pillar, his hands bound behind his back. His eight-pack abs and taut lower abdomen were wrapped in a mess of cloth strips, and his long legs were also bound together.

Like this, he possessed a kind of tortured beauty.

An Ran laughed heartily, then slipped away like oil on her feet.

She could feel the man would wake before long; if she didn't escape now, she would definitely die a very rhythmic death.

*Shua!*

The man's eyes snapped open—pitch black as ink, cold and sharp beyond measure. Framed by the rose at the corner of his eye, there was not a trace of seduction, yet it was heart-stoppingly stunning!

The man raised his hand to touch the mask on his face, only to find his hand wouldn't move. He belatedly lowered his head.

He froze.

A man who wouldn't change expression even if Mount Tai collapsed atop him froze for the first time in his life. His mind went completely blank, utterly unable to think.

"Master... Master?!"

Ling had gone through much trouble to find his master. Upon entering and seeing the man's state, he dropped to his knees with a thud. When had his proud, luxurious master ever been in such a sorry state?

"Master, this subordinate..."

"Get out!"

The man abruptly raised his head and roared viciously at Ling.

"Yes!"

Ling kowtowed heavily, stood up, and walked out. "Go prepare a set of the Master's clothes!"

Having said this, under the puzzled gazes of the guards, he knelt down again.

Though they didn't know the reason, behind him, everyone knelt.

The man took a deep breath, then slowly stood. As he moved, the cloth strips binding him turned to ash inch by inch at a visible speed.

The man touched the mask on his face—still there. He exhaled in relief, then searched for his jade pendant.

A sweep of his eyes told him the pendant was gone. The coldness in his eyes instantly condensed into ice. Good. Truly excellent!

"Ling, come in!"

"Yes."

Ling took a deep breath, stood, carried the clothes, and walked in.

The man spread his arms, his gaze icy, his thin lips pressed tightly together, faintly pale.

Ling meticulously helped the man dress. Finally, he hung a piece of fine white jade at the man's waist, then knelt. "This subordinate failed to protect the Master, resulting in the Master..."

Ling paused, then kowtowed. "This subordinate deserves death ten thousand times over. Please, Master, mete out punishment!"

The man's expression grew even colder. He strode outward. "Find out who did this. Kill without mercy!"

Ling's mouth opened, but he thought better of it—better to redeem himself first. "Master, rest assured. Within three days, I will bring that person's corpse before you!"

Hearing Ling's resonant voice, the man's steps faltered. His pitch-black eyes shifted several times, finally tinged with a three-part bloodthirsty smile. His voice was gentle, the ending hooked with allure, as if speaking the most moving words of love in the world—utterly bewitching.

"Someone with such audacity—this is the first time Grandpa has seen it. Find them and deliver them to me. Grandpa will personally! Train! Them!"

Ling looked up at the man. He saw the clear, gentle moonlight stretching the man's shadow long, yet it could not conceal his violent aura.

Ling glanced once, then lowered his head. "Yes!"