Zhao Wuji, Consumed by Rage

The next day, Zhao Wuji woke from his sleep just as dawn was beginning to break.

Still bleary-eyed, he got up and headed for the bathroom. Out of habit, he prepared to pull out his little bear, but his hand grasped nothing. Refusing to believe it, he tried again, only to find it was still gone.

That jolted him wide awake. Opening his eyes, he saw that the little bear he had raised since childhood had somehow been beaten into a pit. His chest also felt somewhat heavy.

Lowering his head to look at his chest, he found that, as expected, something unexpected had happened. Her already burly pectorals had become even more burly, and there was a hint of softness amid that bulk.

She cupped them in disbelief, then pulled up her pants and rushed to the mirror. It would have been fine if she had not looked, but the sight nearly shocked her senseless.

Zhao Wuji now had long hair reaching her back. The contours of her face had softened, though traces of her former appearance remained. Her height and the muscles she had once been so proud of had not changed, but it was precisely those unchanged muscles that made Zhao Wuji suffer even more.

It was not that she looked ugly; it just did not fit. The sheer incongruity nearly knocked Zhao Wuji out.

After steadying himself, he could hardly believe reality. Rubbing his head, he muttered, "This has to be a dream. How could Old Zhao have such a strange dream?"

His body swaying, he staggered back toward the bedroom. In the end, he collapsed onto the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to escape reality by going back to sleep.

Meanwhile, Lu Mingchuan had just awakened in Huang Quan's embrace. He lifted his head