Pushing open the towering double doors, Zhang Yuanqing was greeted by a hall of breathtaking splendor: a wool carpet embroidered with golden patterns, genuine leather sofas painted gold, walls clad in gleaming gilt-bronze panels, and a massive oil painting three meters tall.
A chandelier composed of eighteen crystal lotus petals hung from the ceiling.
Bright light spilled down, illuminating the luxurious European-style hall—and the naked men and women within it.
Zhang Yuanqing swept his gaze across the room and first spotted the Sixth Elder. He was a middle-aged to elderly man with slightly thinning hair, flat and utterly ordinary features, and deep crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.
He stood around 1.75 meters tall, with well-proportioned muscles and no excess fat, but he was nowhere near as broad and powerfully built as a melee-class fighter.
Judging by appearances alone, he was nothing more than an ordinary old man in his fifties—if one ignored his eyes.
The Sixth Elder's eyes brimmed with countless emotions: violence, lust, excitement, and more. They intertwined into a vortex of emotion that made one dizzy at a glance, as though one's mind had been tangibly polluted.
At that moment, the Sixth Elder held a barbed whip in his hand, viciously lashing a woman curled up on the coffee table.
The coffee table was square, with four legs cast from brass. It looked extremely sturdy—at the very least, sturdier than the woman on top of it.
"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
Every lash produced a crisp crack that made one's scalp prickle, and every lash left torn, mangled wounds across the woman's snow-white body.
The woman's screams intertwined with the sounds of the whip, becoming the source of the Sixth Elder's pleasure.
Even I think this is perverted, but Yi Chuanmei would probably think this place was