Qian Renxue Takes the Initiative, Siblings Hold Hands! Ma Hongjun Wants to Cry But Has No Tears!

The cheers of the crowd gradually subsided, yet the gazes cast toward Lan remained filled with awe and gratitude.

The Purple Scorpion Girl in Lan's arms was as docile as a kitten now, her cheeks flushed red, not daring to utter another word.

Just then, the crowd parted to form a path.

Crown Prince Xue Qinghe walked over.

With an appreciative smile on his face, he reached out and gave Lan's chest a heavy pat.

"People like that deserve a good lesson. Well done."

Lan's body stiffened slightly.

Xue Qinghe seemed to notice his discomfort and laughed heartily, appearing exceptionally magnanimous.

"We're brothers, it's just a pat on the chest, what are you afraid of?"

As he spoke, he took the opportunity to grab Lan's hand.

"If it bothers you, I'll let you..."

Before he could finish, a sensation of soft, warm jade emanated from Lan's palm.

That was not a hand a man should have.

Delicate, soft, and warm.

Lan's gaze suddenly sharpened, and he pulled his hand away from Xue Qinghe without hesitation.

Xue Qinghe was also taken aback, seemingly not expecting such a strong reaction.

Lan looked at him deeply.

No, it was her.

This was the elder sister.

Qian Renxue.

She was far too bold.

In Heaven Dou City, inside an inconspicuous civilian house.

The light inside the room was somewhat dim.

The Bear of Vajra, Zhao Wuji, was pacing back and forth in agitation.

In the corner behind him, a woman was tied up, trembling in fear.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open with a violent crash.

A figure tumbled in, crawling and rolling, then curled up on the floor, his body convulsing violently.

A thick scent of blood instantly permeated the entire room.

Zhao Wuji fixed his eyes on the figure, his expression changing drastically.

"Hongjun?"

"What happened to you?"

Ma Hongjun groaned in agony on the floor, his lower body already soaked through with blood, the pain so intense he couldn't form a complete sentence.

"It's... it's gone..."

Zhao Wuji's heart sank, and he hurried forward to crouch down.

"What's gone? Speak clearly!"

Ma Hongjun lifted his head, his chubby face twisted by excruciating pain and humiliation, his eyes bloodshot and filled with frantic hatred.

He gritted his teeth, the words squeezed out from between them.

"My manhood... it's gone!"

These four words exploded in Zhao Wuji's mind like a thunderclap.

Gone?

His manhood was gone?

He knew better than anyone what that meant for Ma Hongjun.

It was the source of his evil fire, the very foundation of his existence as a man!

In disbelief, Zhao Wuji tore open Ma Hongjun's blood-soaked trousers.

The sight before him made him gasp.

It was completely smooth.

There was nothing left.

The wound was flat and clean, as if it had been excised by the sharpest of blades in one clean, swift stroke.

It was gone!

It was truly gone!

Zhao Wuji's hands trembled slightly as he widened his eyes, staring fixedly at that patch of empty, wounded flesh.

Ma Hongjun...

Had become a eunuch.

Zhao Wuji's mind went blank, buzzing with static.

He stared intensely at the smooth wound, a chill rising from the soles of his feet straight to his crown.

Ma Hongjun's Evil Fire Martial Soul.

He knew better than anyone how overbearing and troublesome that evil fire was.

At its worst, it flared several times a day; otherwise, the evil fire would attack the heart, causing minor damage to the meridians or, in severe cases...

Zhao Wuji dared not continue that train of thought.

If the source of that release was gone, wouldn't that irrepressible evil fire burn him alive into ashes?

He would explode and die!

At the mere thought of that scene, Zhao Wuji felt a strange chill in his own lower half, as if his own parts were aching in sympathy.

Just looking at that wound was painful.

He swallowed hard, crouched down, and asked in a dry, raspy voice.

"Hongjun... does it hurt?"

"No kidding!"

Ma Hongjun was crying and snotting from the pain as he retorted.

"Why don't you try hacking yourself once and see!"

Zhao Wuji was choked up, his expression turning incredibly awkward.

He scratched his head, pacing back and forth in agitation.

Dean Flender had given him strict instructions to keep a close eye on Hongjun and help him resolve his evil fire issues.

And what happened?

In the time it took him to go to a nearby village to "invite" a girl back for him, the boy had managed to ruin himself?

He had even lost his manhood!

If Flender found out about this, that old monster would surely fight him to the death!

Ma Hongjun curled up on the ground, defending himself in agony.

"I... I just couldn't hold it in anymore, could I?"

"I just thought I'd go to the auction house to look around and see if I could find a place..."

"But then I ran into some brat. I said one wrong thing, and he... he just hacked mine off!"

"What was I supposed to do? I'm just as helpless as you!"

Zhao Wuji felt his head throbbing and quickly stepped forward to hold him down.

"Alright, alright, don't get worked up!"

"How can I not get worked up!"

Ma Hongjun suddenly raised his head, looking like a madman.

"Mine is gone! It's gone!!"

"Fine, fine, don't get worked up, don't get worked up."

Zhao Wuji scrambled to dig golden sore medicine and bandages out of his Soul Tool, carefully tending to the wound.

The smell of blood and medicine mingled together.

Ma Hongjun's face was as pale as paper, but the hatred in his eyes was palpable.

"Teacher Zhao..."

He gritted his teeth.

"You must help me take revenge! That brat... that brat wasn't even strong!"

"His strength... was only a tiny bit higher than mine!"

Fearing that Zhao Wuji wouldn't believe him, he emphasized it again.

"Really, just a tiny bit!"

"Rest assured."

Zhao Wuji patted his shoulder and comforted him in a deep voice.

"No matter who he is, if he dares to touch a student of Shrek, I will definitely make him pay the price!"

As he said this, Zhao Wuji clumsily tied a knot, his gaze inadvertently drifting toward the corner of the wall.

Over there, the bound woman was still shivering.

He rubbed the back of his head, feeling somewhat troubled.

"So... what do we do with this woman now?"

The moment the words "Evil Fire" popped into Zhao Wuji's mind, Ma Hongjun's body gave a violent shudder.

A familiar, scorching heat surged from his dantian without warning, rushing fiercely toward his limbs and bones.

Immediately following, a heart-wrenching, tearing pain erupted from his lower body.

"Hiss—"

He sucked in a cold breath, and the wound he had just bandaged was instantly stained red with blood again.

"Ahhh! It hurts!"

Ma Hongjun clutched his lower body, wailing in agony.

"Can you stop talking about that! I just bandaged it and it's bleeding again, it hurts like hell!"

"Fine, fine, I won't say anything."

Zhao Wuji panicked as well and quickly replied.

"Then... should I just let her go?"

Upon hearing the words "let her go," Ma Hongjun was both anxious and in pain, tears nearly streaming down his face.

It felt as if salt had been sprinkled onto the wound in his lower body, and the excruciating pain doubled once more.

"Pfft—"

Another jet of blood sprayed out.

"Can... can you just stop talking!"

"My junk is already gone, what the hell are you talking about!"

Zhao Wuji scratched his head, looking completely innocent.

"Then I'll just let her go."

"Fuck!"

Ma Hongjun let out a desperate, mournful cry.

"It... it burst open again!"

On the long street outside the auction house, the lights were dim and flickering.

The gentle smile on Xue Qinghe's face stiffened slightly due to Lan's instinctive evasion.

His outstretched hand hung in mid-air, feeling somewhat awkward.

Lan was not used to this.

"Apologies."

Lan's voice was cold and detached, yet held no malice.

Xue Qinghe's cheeks flushed slightly, but he quickly regained the composure and affability expected of a crown prince.

The smile on his face deepened, as if the previous interlude had never occurred.

"It was this Prince who was abrupt."

Having said that, he reached out once more, and even faster than before.

This time, he gave Lan no time to react, grabbing his wrist directly and firmly.

The temperature transmitted from the wrist was delicate and warm.

"Let's go, what's the rush."