The women below the hall exchanged glances. Some wanted to go over and serve Zhao Fu, preserving their lives and status, while others despised Lan Shanshui's behavior and looked at Zhao Fu with hatred.
As Zhao Fu toyed with Lan Shanshui in his arms, his eyes fell upon Yao Yue. Smiling, he said, "You come up and serve me too!"
Yao Yue said coldly, "I already told you—if you want to kill me, then kill me. I will never submit to you, much less debase myself alongside other women. I am the empress of the Demon Horn Empire. I have the dignity and pride of the Demon Horn Empire."
Kong Liuye, Yao Ming's most beloved woman, also said coldly, "That's right! We are not such shameless women. Just kill us. We are willing to die together with our husband."
Zhao Fu could not help but chuckle. The more they acted this way, the more he liked it. The empress and consorts of the Demon Horn Empire would all submit beneath him.
"Is that so? Are you sure? Perhaps I can grant your wish right now. I will hang everyone connected to you from the city walls, flay your skin first, then scatter vast amounts of salt over you, letting you suffer unbearable pain before you die."
Yao Yue shouted angrily, "You're despicable! Do you have any bearing worthy of a ruler of an empire?"
Kong Liuye began to grow afraid, tears glimmering in her eyes. She was not afraid of death, but she did not want her family and friends to suffer agonizing deaths.
Zhao Fu said with a smile, "You brought all of this upon yourselves. I gave you a chance, so do not blame me."
Hearing this, the other hesitant women were so frightened that they hurriedly said,