Wuxia - The Demoness's Escort Record

In the center of the secret chamber stood a slender, upright figure, bound layer by layer by a peculiar rope, pitch black and entwined with dark gold dragon patterns. The dragon-patterned rope was heavy, emitting a faint, dark glow, tightly cinching her shoulders, waist, and knees, fixing her firmly in place, unable to move. The patterns on the rope subtly flowed, exuding an indescribable power of restraint, far beyond ordinary江湖 (jianghu - martial arts world) binding ropes. The woman had long hair, a striking blend of red and black. The black was as deep as ink, the red as vibrant as flame, her strands falling in disarray, accentuating her skin, which was as fair as snow. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, her features delicate and sharp, her contours stunningly alluring, yet devoid of any gentleness or softness. Her phoenix eyes were slightly upturned, her gaze hiding a bone-chilling ruthlessness and malevolence. Her makeup was bold and sharp, her brows fierce, her lips a vibrant crimson, radiating an untamable ferocity from every angle. She was no ordinary lady of the boudoir, but rather a formidable figure who prowled the dark corners of the martial world. She wore a form-fitting qipao of black and gold dragon patterns. The fabric clung to her body, outlining her sleek, graceful figure. The gold patterns were intricate and opulent, shimmering faintly under the dim, yellow light. The style was exquisite and unique, yet possessed an air of flamboyant allure. On her head, she wore an elaborate and magnificent set of filigree gold ornaments, their patterns delicate, their pearls understated, making her beauty even more striking, a strange fusion of nobility and ferocity. From her forearms to her fingertips, she wore full-length gloves of grey silk, the silk thin and translucent, fitting snugly against her skin, delicate and refined. Her legs were covered in matching grey silk stockings with patterned designs, the patterns elegant, complementing her gold and black qipao. The ultimate in exquisite, alluring attire, paired with the fierce, venomous aura in her eyes, and the strange dragon-patterned ropes binding her, created a scene of extreme, unsettling contrast. Shen Yanzhou’s gaze narrowed, suppressing his surprise as he carefully examined the binding technique, his heart growing increasingly alarmed the more he looked. Ordinary restraints merely bound the limbs and restricted movement, but the way these dragon-patterned black ropes bound her was meticulously thorough, leaving no gaps. The dense network of ropes intertwined like a fine, resilient net, completely enveloping her, leaving not an inch of skin or a single joint free, all locked securely within the rope net. Even more bizarre was the fact that the entire binding had almost no visible knots. All rope ends were gathered at discreet, conforming locations on her body. Each gathering point was secured with a small, tightly sealed dark iron metal clasp, sealing the rope body perfectly. His gaze was sharp; he could vaguely discern intricate mortise and tenon hidden locks on the surface of the metal clasps, their mechanisms ingenious and their seals tight. Without the corresponding unlocking method and key, external force, brute tearing, or ordinary martial arts rope-untying techniques would be utterly useless. It was a true, inescapable lock. Her arms were forcibly brought completely together behind her back, an additional layer of rope folding and fixing them beyond the standard binding, leaving no room to raise or bend her elbows. Her hands, hidden within the grey silk gloves, were further secured by a special technique. These gloves were not ordinary five-fingered gloves; the ends of the hands had no finger seams. A smooth, firm ball of silk completely encased and gathered her palms, tightly clenched into a neat little ball. Shen Yanzhou, with his exceptional eyesight, could vaguely see layers of dense, special tape wound inside the translucent grey silk fabric, wrapped layer upon layer, tightly securing them, completely locking all movement in her hands, forcing them to maintain a clenched, ball-like posture at all times, unable to move even a fraction. The binding of her lower limbs was even more exaggerated. From the roots of her thighs, above and below her knees, her calf muscles, to her ankles, the tops of her feet, and her heels, every joint and piece of flesh was segmented and tightly bound by the ropes, section by section, layered and cinched. The contours were distinct and the fit snug, as if she had been bound into segments like lotus root. The visible segmented bindings alone numbered at least ten sections, layered one upon another, leaving no room for escape. Not only her limbs, but her entire body, vital points and torso, all fell under the restraint. Her neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, waist, pelvis, and even the crucial areas of her lower body were intricately wound and layered by the dragon-patterned ropes. The rope arrangement was neat and dense, with no omissions, no looseness. Shen Yanzhou, having walked the martial world for thirteen years, had seen countless secret confinement techniques and sect restraints, yet he had never encountered such a rigorous, extreme, and flawless binding method. Looking at the stunning woman, completely locked by the impenetrable rope net before him, a strong illusion suddenly arose in his heart – this was not the escort of a martial world woman, but rather the meticulous application of secret arts, layer upon layer of sealing, to bind a ferocious dragon that had been dormant in the world, ready to lash out and devour at any moment. Such an exaggerated level of restraint made his battle-hardened heart once again stir with deep caution and suspicion. Under the extreme and meticulous restraint, the woman was clearly tense and extremely uncomfortable, her body instinctively wriggling and struggling. But the dense dragon-patterned ropes binding her locked every inch of her joints, every inch of her flesh, leaving no room for movement. All her struggles were in vain. She could not raise her hands, could not take a step, could not bend or straighten. She could only writhe subtly in place, her posture stiff and straight, like a human stick firmly propped up. All her strenuous struggles appeared pale and comical, like a ridiculous, futile effort. In the secret chamber, only her soft, muffled whimpers echoed gently, vague and obscure, completely unintelligible. Shen Yanzhou’s gaze then swept to her face, and he instantly saw another layer of severe restraint – her entire chin was wrapped layer by layer with a wide, black vertical strip of tape, sealed tightly. The tape adhered closely to her skin, sealing it perfectly, completely flattening the contours of her mouth. Her entire jaw and even the upper part of her neck were covered in dark black tape, leaving no room for escape. Through her slightly bulging cheeks, one could clearly see that her mouth was stuffed full of tightly packed cotton wads and cloth strips, filled to the brim, completely sealing off any possibility of vocalization or speech. Under this double seal, she could no longer utter a single word, only a series of suppressed whimpers and moans escaping her throat, fragmented and muffled, filled with extreme frustration and anger. Her phoenix eyes, originally filled with ferocity, now stared fixedly at Shen Yanzhou before her and Qin Bo beside him. A torrent of rage and humiliation surged in her eyes. Wet, muffled sounds continuously emanated, like scolding, like threats, like unresigned questioning, but ultimately, they were just a series of meaningless muffled sounds, and no one could understand her pleas. Her stunningly fierce face, her exquisitely alluring attire, and her extremely disheveled state of restraint intertwined, creating this bizarre and impactful scene. Just as Shen Yanzhou’s eyes were deep, taking in all the details before him, the secret door on the inner side of the chamber slowly and silently opened. An old man, with white hair and a stooped posture but a straight back, walked out slowly. He exuded the calm authority of someone who had long held a position of power, the old head of the Lin Yuan Escort Agency. He did not speak immediately, his gaze resting lightly on Shen Yanzhou, his eyes holding a subtle test, clearly intending for this ace of the agency to assess the situation himself. After a moment of silence, Shen Yanzhou suppressed the surprise in his eyes and the turmoil in his heart. His voice, steady and clear, revealed his judgment, each word a testament to years of hard-won wisdom from his time in the jianghu. "Leader, in my opinion, this woman is no ordinary martial artist. She is a formidable individual with extremely high cultivation." He gestured towards the restraints binding the woman, his gaze sharp and piercing, seeing through the superficial. "To outsiders, they appear to be ordinary ropes. But upon closer inspection, I see the rope's texture is stiff and unusual, with fine steel threads woven within the dragon patterns of the hemp. It looks like rope, but it's a combination of soft and hard, its strength and binding capacity comparable to steel chains, difficult to cut with ordinary blades." "Such specially made restraints are not something possessed by common gangs or mountain bandits," Shen Yanzhou deduced logically, step by step. "They are either exclusive to imperial prisons, designed for high-profile offenders, or secret artifacts from top sects or hidden clans, unobtainable by ordinary people, let alone used to bind prisoners." He paused, then looked again at the woman, bound tightly and completely, his eyes filled with shock and certainty. "The most crucial point is her physique and internal energy. This method of binding, so tight and suffocating, constricting blood flow and meridians, would cause ordinary experts to experience blocked circulation, numb limbs, and chaotic internal energy within half an hour. At worst, it could lead to damaged meridians, fainting, and collapse." "Yet, she has been bound here for an unknown duration, and she still stands tall, her skin maintaining a healthy color, without any signs of congestion or paleness. Her eyes are full of fierce spirit, her mind clear, and not even the slightest stagnation of blood flow in her limbs is apparent," Shen Yanzhou stated gravely. "This is sufficient proof of her profound internal energy foundation, robust blood circulation, resilient meridians, and martial cultivation far exceeding that of top-tier experts. She is a true peak powerhouse." Finally, he returned his gaze to the woman's attire and demeanor, reaching his conclusion. "Her attire is bizarre and ostentatious, her aura sinister and violent, completely unlike the elegant restraint of disciples from righteous sects. Combined with her uniquely designed clothing, her ruthless nature, and the need for specialized restraints to completely subdue her, she is most likely a core operative of a demonic sect operating in the shadows of the jianghu." Before his words even finished, Shen Yanzhou's gaze dropped again, precisely to her completely bound hands. Continuing his observation, he analyzed further, his vigilance deepening. "Moreover, the method of restraint is too targeted, the planning terrifyingly meticulous." He saw clearly that the hands wrapped in gray silk gloves were not an unnecessary restraint, but a precise measure to prevent killing and seal her abilities. "Ordinary experts only need to bind an opponent's limbs, but her hands are completely encased in specially made gloves, with layers of tape wrapped inside, completely sealing all movement space in her fingers and palms, even stripping away the slightest potential for fine motor force." "From this, it can be concluded that her most potent and venomous methods are likely hidden in her hands," Shen Yanzhou stated with certainty, his years in the jianghu making him understand this kind of extreme, targeted restraint logic. "Her opponents knew her hand techniques were dangerous and unpredictable. If even a sliver of space or a hint of movement was left, she could seize the opportunity to counterattack and kill, so they simply sealed everything, wrapped her completely, leaving her no chance to use her sinister secret techniques or launch a surprise attack. It was a true 'pulling the rug out from under her,' eliminating all variables." His gaze moved further down, to the patterned gray silk stockings covering her legs, leading to a new assessment. "It's not just her hands; her stockings are also not ordinary wear. They are specially made restraints worn close to the skin after binding." During her futile struggles, the woman's body had been constantly writhing. Although her strength was locked by the ropes, there were subtle frictions and tensions of her limbs, yet the gray silk stockings remained intact, without a single snag or tear. Shen Yanzhou's eyes were sharp; through the texture of the silk, he could discern the material. "The stockings are lined and thickened, exceptionally tough, resistant to wear and tear. Ordinary pulling and friction could not damage them; they are specifically designed for long-term restraint." The most minute details still escaped his notice. "The toe and heel areas of her stockings are double-thickened and reinforced, the internal space completely filled and locked. Her toes can only curl and writhe very faintly within the stockings, their force completely dissipated and firmly restrained." He quietly observed the subtle undulations of the woman's feet, his eyes understanding. "Even if she exerted all her strength to move her toes, to an outsider, it would only appear as a slight, powerless ripple on the surface of the stocking, unable to generate any force, let alone break free, exert power, or employ any secret techniques." "Hands, feet, limbs, torso, meridians, voice – from head to toe, from skin to bone, not a single part was spared," Shen Yanzhou summarized slowly, his tone grave. "Her fingers, toes, all her joints, every part capable of exerting force, of moving abnormally, of employing techniques, has been completely locked down. This kind of sealing is not to prevent escape; it is to utterly eliminate any possibility of counterattack." The old leader nodded heavily, his eyes filled with genuine admiration, his expression becoming even more solemn and grave, completely abandoning his earlier probing attitude. "Excellent insight, worthy of being the pillar of our Lin Yuan Escort Agency. Your analysis is not off by even half a point. This escort mission, indeed, only you can handle." He stepped forward, his gaze falling upon the exquisitely beautiful woman bound by layers of restraints, and solemnly revealed the hidden truth. "This person is not an ordinary prisoner from a demonic sect. She is a **high-profile offender designated by the imperial court**. All the restraints on her person are not from any jianghu sect but are exclusively imperial secret confinement techniques and specially made torture devices." "The dragon-patterned ropes you identified, which appear to be hemp mixed with steel wire, are actually imperial 'meridian-locking ropes,' with a unique official designation," the old leader explained the mystery slowly. "All the knots, dark iron buckles, and hidden locks on her person are matching mechanisms. Only the specially made key lock provided by the court can open them. Let alone ordinary jianghu experts or craftsmen from noble families, even if someone risked their life to rescue her, without the key, there would be no way to undo the restraints. She would be locked by this net for life." "And her attire, you noticed something unusual but did not grasp the fundamental reason," the old leader continued. "The long gloves on her hands and the patterned stockings on her legs are **three layers stacked**. The material is extremely thin, each layer adhering closely to the skin, making it impossible to discern the layers by eye, appearing as a single layer of fabric. The three layers of silk are reinforced and interlocked, completely locking down even the slightest movement of her limbs. This is the true reason why her toes and fingertips, even with all her effort, can only ripple slightly without any force." "As for the tape binding her hands, it is an imperial specialty," he stated with a solemn tone. "The tape itself is tough and tear-resistant, and its inner layer is coated with a secret, quick-drying adhesive that is unaffected by warmth or sweat. Even if she possessed supreme internal energy and her hands were covered in sweat, it would be impossible for her to soften the tape or break free even a little, completely eliminating any possibility of her escaping through subtle manipulation." Reaching the most critical point, the old leader lowered his voice, revealing a chilling sense of dread. "This entire net-like binding is never just about restraining the body or preventing escape. The arrangement of the ropes has been meticulously calculated by a master. Each tightening point precisely corresponds to her vital acupoints, **especially around her Dantian and Qi Sea, where a specialized meridian-locking knot has been set.**" "This binding method can seal the flow of vital energy through the meridians layer by layer, firmly suppressing her internal energy circulation. It traps her immense cultivation within her body, rendering her unable to mobilize even a trace of true qi." As his words settled, the oppressive atmosphere in the secret chamber thickened. He paused, his gaze fixed on the exquisitely beautiful woman, completely bound. Deep apprehension and gravity flickered in his eyes as he slowly revealed her earth-shattering identity: "Do you know who she truly is? She is none other than the infamous, the one who made the entire martial world tremble in fear – **the Demon Cult's Saintess, Feng Mingsha**." The mere utterance of her name seemed to weigh down the dead silence of the secret chamber. "This woman's martial arts are peerless, her movements elusive and unpredictable, appearing and disappearing without a trace. Her actions are ruthless and driven by her own whims," the old gang leader gravely enumerated her terrifying prowess. "Over the past few years, countless renowned sects and top experts of the martial world have clashed with her. Yet, they either met a tragic end or failed to even grasp the true extent of her abilities or the depth of her martial arts. The martial world, in its pursuit and encirclement of her, paid an immeasurable price in lives and resources, yet remained utterly helpless against her. She is universally acknowledged as the most unfathomable and the most dangerous enemy to provoke." "She could have remained hidden within the Demon Cult's inner sanctum, living a life of leisure, beyond anyone's reach," the old gang leader's tone shifted, tinged with a hint of lament and coldness. "However, she was too arrogant, too overconfident, her ambition boundless. She dared to harbor the most forbidden of desires, sealing her own doom by reaching her hand towards the imperial power of the Dali Dynasty." "Months ago, she single-handedly ambushed a top-secret imperial transport convoy. She broke through layers of imperial guards and forcibly seized an **ancient, mysterious treasure** that was unknown even to the martial world's most powerful figures and the court's highest officials. The lost artifact, the imperial secret hoard, all fell into her hands." This act utterly enraged the Emperor, igniting a thunderous backlash from the entire Dali Dynasty. The court could no longer tolerate her actions. They mobilized all the top constables and imperial guards from across the land, launching a full-scale pursuit and encirclement, setting a trap that spanned across provinces and prefectures. "To capture her alive, the court suffered the loss of countless elite secret agents and veteran constables, with heavy casualties and an unimaginable price paid. Only through the use of specialized meridian-locking restraints, applied layer by layer, were they finally able to barely apprehend this lawless Demon Cult Saintess alive." The old gang leader gazed at Feng Mingsha, who still glared with fierce hostility and struggled in defiance. His tone grew even more serious: "Precisely because of her notorious reputation, her heaven-defying combat power, and the secret treasure she possesses, the court spared no expense in employing such extreme restraints, sealing her martial arts, locking her form, and gagging her speech, leaving her no opportunity whatsoever. This escort mission, though seemingly transporting a prisoner, is in reality escorting a peerless harbinger of destruction capable of overturning an entire region at any moment." The somber words slowly dissipated in the confined secret chamber. The flickering light of the bronze lamp cast long, oppressive shadows of the two figures. The old gang leader suppressed the apprehension in his eyes, his expression turning solemn and orderly as he formally outlined the escort deployment and the comprehensive plan issued by the court. "The court has explicitly ordered that the fugitive Feng Mingsha be escorted to a designated secret location on the southern border without fail." His two confidantes were seasoned veterans of the escort agency, well aware of the secrecy and danger of this mission, and dared not show any slack. One of them stepped forward, holding a small, exquisitely crafted black iron box, and respectfully presented it to Shen Yanzhou. "鏢頭 Shen, this is the court's exclusive unlocking key. There is only one in all the world." Shen Yanzhou took the iron box, lifted the lid, and revealed a small, intricately designed, uniquely patterned black iron key lying within. It was the only object capable of unlocking the meridian-locking ropes binding Feng Mingsha. The key was dark and cool to the touch, heavy, and bore fine imperial dragon patterns. It was unique, with no possibility of replication. The confidante solemnly instructed in a low voice: "The gang leader has ordered that the key be kept on your person at all times, never separated from you. Unless we reach our destination and the court's designated personnel take over, under no circumstances should it be used lightly, nor should it be lost. If it is lost, no one will be able to break these restraints, and the consequences would be unthinkable." With that, the other confidante presented a wooden case. Inside, several small, transparent glass bottles filled with a pale golden liquid were neatly arranged. The liquid within was warm and luminous, exuding a peculiar, pure aura. "This is the court's specially formulated concentrated nutrient solution," the confidante continued to explain the rules meticulously, his tone strict and solemn. "Saintess Feng Mingsha possesses an unfathomable internal energy foundation, and her physical body far surpasses that of ordinary martial arts experts. Even if she were to go without food or drink for tens of days, she could sustain her body and maintain her life force solely on her own dormant, profound internal energy, without any depletion of her foundation." "Therefore, during the journey, unless there are extreme and special circumstances, there is no need to feed her or give her water. Only when she exhibits signs of weakened qi and blood, fluctuating life force, or extreme exhaustion, should a small amount of the nutrient solution be administered to stabilize her physical vitality." This set of rules was utterly ruthless, effectively reducing the once formidable Demon Cult Saintess, who acted as she pleased, into a mere escort object, requiring only basic sustenance to maintain her life. Feng Mingsha, tightly bound and unable to move, heard the entire conversation clearly. Her heart, already filled with fury and resentment at being captured, boiled over when she heard that even the right to normal sustenance was completely stripped away, leaving her to rely on cold, specially made liquid to sustain her life. The rage in her eyes surged, and her beautiful features were completely consumed by anger. Her entire body tensed. The body, locked by the dense net of ropes, began to writhe minutely again. Her stiff limbs struggled desperately, yet she could not escape the extreme confinement of the ropes. All her struggles were futile, only causing her to undulate slightly in place, like an angry, powerless human log. Her mouth and nose were sealed with tight-fitting black tape, and her mouth was stuffed with cotton. She could not utter a single curse, only managing to force increasingly rapid, suppressed grunts from the depths of her throat. Each sound carried immense fury and unwillingness, as if protesting in rage, as if cursing fiercely. But no matter how enraged she became, how much she struggled, or how indignantly she whimpered, no one in the secret chamber paid her any mind. All her anger, all her unwillingness, was insignificant and laughable in the face of this watertight set of binding rules and iron laws. In the end, it could only transform into a meaningless, futile commotion. To ensure absolute certainty and avoid the prying eyes of the escort agency, Shen Yanzhou handled the task himself. He steadily supported Feng Mingsha, who was held rigidly straight by layers of restrictive ropes, rendering her incapable of even the slightest movement. His grip was firm yet controlled, precise in its pressure, neither invasive nor disrespectful, but utterly preventing any sudden struggles. With utmost care, he lifted her entire body into his arms. The woman was slender and light, her figure accentuated by the form-fitting qipao. Yet, the dense network of ropes and restraints binding her exuded a heavy sense of confinement. Throughout the process, she could only remain stiff in his embrace, denied even the slightest freedom to shift her body. Only a muffled, intermittent whimper from her throat betrayed the immense rage simmering within her. Concealed by the night, Shen Yanzhou navigated through corridors and courtyards, choosing the darkest and most secluded paths. He bypassed the guards and patrolling escorts, moving silently, leaving no trace of any abnormality. Before long, he arrived at his private quarters. He pushed open the door, locked it from the inside, and swiftly drew the heavy curtains, completely shutting out the external lights and sounds. The bedroom instantly became private, dim, and silent, effectively concealing the true secret of this escort mission. No one knew that the notorious Saintess of the Demonic Cult, renowned throughout the martial world, was now secretly housed in the room of this ace escort. Shen Yanzhou gently laid Feng Mingsha onto the bed. The soft bedding cushioned her stiff, unyielding body, but the intricate dragon-patterned ropes still held every inch of her flesh and every joint in a vice-like grip, showing no sign of loosening. Freed from the rigid standing position in the secret room, she seemed to find a sliver of room to struggle. The pent-up frustration and extreme discomfort that had been accumulating for so long finally erupted. She writhed and rolled minutely on the bed, her shoulders trembling, her waist twisting, attempting to break free from the restraints. But it was all in vain. Her arms were locked completely together behind her back, her hands bound into tight silk balls, utterly immobile. Her legs, ankles, and toes were all sealed by the specialized attire and ropes, preventing even the slightest curl or exertion. Only her waist and knee joints were not completely bound, leaving a small margin of movement. It was precisely this remaining freedom that allowed her to thrash wildly on the bed, her body twisting violently, her waist arching repeatedly. Her limbs remained stiff and unmoving, only her torso contorting and extending with frantic energy, like a trapped insect, half-restrained but still struggling desperately to break free from the heavy net of ropes. Yet, it was all a futile effort. After several bouts of intense struggle, she had not managed to loosen any of the restraints. All she had achieved was to wrinkle and dishevel the neatly made bed. Beyond that, nothing. Even in this desperate predicament, Feng Mingsha's inherent pride and authority remained undiminished. She continued to hold her posture rigidly, the residual arrogance in her eyes, her phoenix-like gaze fixed on Shen Yanzhou, attempting to maintain the formidable aura of the Saintess of the Demonic Cult, who looked down upon the world and all beings. She refused to show any sign of weakness. But this forced display of strength was already completely undermined by the numerous flaws in her presentation. The prolonged tension and struggle, the suffocating confinement, had caused a fine sheen of cold sweat to break out all over her body. Her fine hair, damp with perspiration, clung in disarray to her smooth forehead and cheeks, stripping away her usual fierce and sharp demeanor, making her appear both disheveled and weak. Even a peerless killer, who had wreaked havoc throughout the martial world, could not escape a state of utter disarray when subjected to such extreme restraint and complete confinement. The once aloof and unrestrained Saintess of the Demonic Cult was now incapable of even raising a hand to brush away a stray strand of hair from her face or move even slightly with ease. Her jaw and mouth were sealed tightly with black tape, her mouth stuffed with cotton. Unable to open her mouth or breathe properly, she could only gasp for air through her small nose. Each shallow breath was exceptionally clear in the silent bedroom, carrying with it suppressed frustration and extreme unwillingness. Her previous formidable aura had long since shattered into pieces amidst the silent embarrassment. Mmph! Muffled whimpers! The muffled whimpers exploded in the room, sharp and full of suppressed rage. Feng Mingsha's chest burned with fury, her mind churning with countless cold and vicious curses. If her mouth were not sealed, her words would have been sharp as knives, chilling to the bone: "Let me go! How dare you confine me? A mere escort agency, you think you're fit to guard me?!" But the black tape adhered tightly to her jaw, and the cotton stuffed her mouth, trapping all her sharp words in her throat. She desperately puffed her cheeks and strained her throat, her teeth clenched tightly, wishing she could break through this restraint and continue to roar in her heart: "Little escort! You dare to see me in such a state, dare to escort me? When I break free, I will flay your tendons and shatter your bones, ensuring you never know peace again!" But no matter how hard she moved her lips or how fiercely she roared in her heart, her lips and teeth remained completely immobile. All her threats, defiance, and unwillingness were crushed into a series of indistinct, muffled whimpers, echoing chaotically and oppressively in the silent bedroom, unrecognizable and unmoved by anyone. The extreme confinement, the humiliation of being silenced, and the futile struggle pressed down on her, causing her blood to surge. Her face, usually exquisitely beautiful and fierce, was forced to turn a deep red. The blush spread from her cheeks to the roots of her ears, a vibrant hue, utterly disheveled yet stubbornly so. Her waist and the knees, which had the only remaining freedom of movement, repeatedly arched, curled, and twisted violently, like a wild beast trapped in a net, refusing to surrender. She exerted all her current strength in a frantic struggle, but in the end, she could only futilely muss the bedding, showing no sign of escape. Shen Yanzhou stood quietly by the bedside, his gaze indifferently sweeping over her uncontrolled and useless thrashing. His heart settled completely. He was now completely certain that the imperial court's confinement methods were meticulously designed, leaving no room for error. Her fingers were completely locked by the specialized silk balls and the inner layer of dense adhesive, curled into balls, unable to bend, grasp, or exert force. Her toes were also sealed by thickened sock layers, only capable of slight movement, unable to perform even the most subtle gripping action. This meant that even if the unique unlocking key were placed directly in front of her, or even thrown in her face, without external assistance, she would have absolutely no possibility of retrieving the key and unlocking the restraints herself. With her hands and feet rendered useless, unable to exert force, and all mechanisms locked, this confinement system had eliminated all possibility of self-rescue from beginning to end. Without the assistance of a third party, this former Saintess of the Demonic Cult, who had once roamed the martial world and could not be controlled by anyone, would be forever trapped within this airtight net of ropes, her heart filled with unyielding ferocity and boundless hatred, unable to move an inch or achieve anything. With this realization, Shen Yanzhou's heart was completely at ease. On this journey south, he did not need to expend mental energy guarding against Feng Mingsha escaping and retaliating. His only concern was the remaining forces of the Demonic Cult in the martial world and the various experts coveting the secret treasure who might take the risk to intercept them. She herself had no possibility of breaking free. Having confirmed the situation, he no longer paid much attention to the woman struggling futilely on the bed. He casually picked up a common coarse hemp rope from a shelf in the room and, with a swift and practiced motion, loosely wrapped it around the bed a few times, confining Feng Mingsha within the bounds of the bed. This simple restraint, compared to the court's precise and extreme locking ropes, was negligible. However, for Feng Mingsha at this moment, it was an insurmountable barrier. Her entire body was locked by layers of restrictive ropes, her limbs stiff, and her movements completely uncontrollable. She could only writhe minutely on the bed like a trapped insect, repeatedly arching her waist, futilely trying to move towards the edge of the bed and escape its confines. But the ordinary hemp rope was positioned precisely on the outer side of her waist, perfectly blocking any space for movement. No matter how hard she twisted her body, as soon as she shifted slightly from the center of the bed, she would be firmly stopped by the rope, unable to advance even an inch, let alone reach the edge of the bed, much less get off it. Upon entering the room, he first meticulously inspected every corner, caressing the window frames, checking the door seams, and scanning the dead spaces of the ceiling beams. He confirmed the room held no hidden compartments, no lurking threats, and no eavesdroppers. Once all potential dangers were thoroughly eliminated, he turned his gaze to Feng Mingsha, who remained securely bound to the chair. He leaned down, gently lifting the woman and placing her precisely in the center of the clean bed within the room. Before Feng Mingsha could recover from the exhaustion and gnawing hunger of the past few days, Shen Yanzhou had already produced his signature Dragon-Patterned Restraint Rope, interwoven with fine metal threads. This rope was a specially crafted imperial artifact, its resilience rivaling that of fine steel, rendering it nearly impervious to ordinary blades. Coupled with its unique hidden lock mechanism, it was impossible to undo without the specific key, serving as the core instrument to suppress Feng Mingsha's martial arts and restrict her movements. With practiced and efficient movements, Shen Yanzhou expertly coiled the rope once around her slender, pale neck, adjusting the tightness with exquisite precision. The loop settled against her skin, forming a neat, restrictive collar. It was not tight enough to choke or suffocate, nor was it intended to be lethal, but it completely immobilized any movement of her neck, leaving her utterly unable to turn or struggle. He then pulled the remaining length of the rope taut, securing it firmly to the sturdiest wooden pillar at the head of the bed. The rope was stretched straight and tight, with no slack whatsoever. This effectively confined Feng Mingsha's range of motion to the small confines of the bed. She could not rise, shift her position, or roll away. The only movement she could manage was a subtle wriggle and a gentle squirm on the bed surface, utilizing the minimal space left around her waist. She was like a trapped beast, all her struggles confined within a controllable scope. Having completed the neck restraint, Shen Yanzhou did not relax his vigilance. He recalled that he had loosened some of the knots on her legs and feet when they were traveling through the city to allow for easier walking. Now, with no need to navigate crowded streets, he had to restore the full extent of the restraints to eliminate any potential risks. He leaned down once more, his fingers deftly working to tighten and re-layer the Dragon-Patterned knots on Feng Mingsha's legs. From her thighs, to her knees, to her calves, and finally to her ankles, feet, and toes, the ropes were layered tightly, segment by segment, completely restoring the original, extremely stringent binding. Her calves, which had previously allowed for slight flexion and minimal movement, were now completely constricted. Her legs were held straight and pressed together, utterly immobile, unable to separate or bend at the knees. All slack around her feet was eliminated, and her toes and soles were once again locked within the specially made, thickened silk stockings, leaving no room for even the slightest curl, exertion, or wriggle. He patiently inspected each knot and every section of the rope, ensuring that all hidden locks were securely engaged, the ropes were taut and unyielding, and the restraints were without any flaw. The neck collar was stable, the leg bindings were tight, and the bed anchor was secure. Throughout the entire process, there was not a single exploitable gap or weakness. With the restraints confirmed to be foolproof, Shen Yanzhou felt a profound sense of security. This set of custom Dragon-Patterned Restraint Ropes, combined with the royal hidden locks, could only be undone by the single key he possessed. No one else in the world could possibly break or loosen them. Even if someone were to stumble upon them or attempt a rescue, they would be utterly helpless, unable to make even the slightest impression on the bindings. He had no need to worry about Feng Mingsha being rescued or escaping on her own. The jolting ordeal of riding horseback on mountain roads for days had made him acutely aware of the rope's drawbacks. With her bones and muscles locked by the restraints and no room for cushioning, Feng Mingsha's body was stiff as wood. She could not withstand the violent tremors of long-distance, fast-paced horseback travel. If they continued their journey by horse, before reaching their destination in the south, this intricately bound sorceress, unable to self-cushion, would surely suffer internal organ displacement, collapse from exhaustion, or even perish en route. A stable, discreet, and comfortable carriage was the only optimal solution for the upcoming long journey and an indispensable mode of transport. Having made up his mind, Shen Yanzhou lingered no longer. He cast one last glance at Feng Mingsha's futile struggles on the bed, confirmed that all was secure, then turned and strode swiftly out of the private room. He closed the door, locked it securely, and headed directly to the horse and carriage rental in the town market, intending to purchase horses and a carriage. After Shen Yanzhou's departure, Feng Mingsha was left alone in the sealed private room, submerged in endless restraint and frustration. The restored, stringent bindings left her body stiff and tense, every joint and every muscle locked tight. The pent-up rage and unwillingness within her surged forth. Unwilling to submit passively, she utilized the sliver of mobility remaining in her waist and knees, wriggling incessantly on the bed, repeatedly arching her body, and gently struggling with all her remaining strength to break free from the restraints. But all her struggles were ultimately in vain, like a drop in the ocean. The Dragon-Patterned ropes surrounding her were indestructible, the hidden locks firmly engaged. No matter how she twisted her body or exerted herself, she could not loosen a single knot. Not only could she not break free, but the more she struggled and twisted, the tighter and more closely the taut metal threads adhered to her skin. The fine strands slowly embedded themselves into her flesh and muscles, bringing a fine, prolonged sensation of constricting pressure, firmly holding her body and rendering her even more immobile. The extreme frustration of her repeated failed struggles only intensified the fire of her anger. Yet, despite her all-out efforts, the restraining devices on her body remained intact, showing no sign of damage. Her three-layered, specially thickened, patterned gray silk stockings, having endured days of jolting, repeated friction, and the rubbing of her struggling body, remained snug and intact, perfectly smooth, without a single snag, a trace of wear, or a torn wrinkle. Their resilience far surpassed ordinary fabric, completely eliminating any possibility of her wearing them down. Feng Mingsha could only remain trapped within the confines of the bed, wriggling in vain, struggling powerlessly, soft, suppressed whimpers escaping her throat, filled with fury, frustration, and helplessness. The once peerless Saintess, who had commanded the Demonic Cult, overlooked the martial world, and wielded immense power, was now reduced to a prisoner confined to a small bed, unable to save herself, at the mercy of others. In the empty private room, she endured endless torment and humiliation alone. His expression remained calm and unruffled, a stark contrast to her disheveled and restless state. Since the carriage was ready and she no longer needed to be rigidly secured to the bed, the restraint around her neck was rendered unnecessary. He strode forward, his hand precisely grasping the knot of the neck collar. With a practiced flick of his fingers, he loosened and released the long cord tethered to the bedpost, completely removing the rope collar that had locked her neck. The long-standing constriction around her neck vanished abruptly, and a sense of long-lost looseness washed over her entire body. Feng Ming Sha was finally free from the confines of the small bed and could move on the floor. After removing the restraints, Shen Yan Zhou no longer paid her deliberate attention. He turned to pack his belongings and inventory supplies for the journey, leaving her to her own devices in the room. With her limited freedom of movement regained, Feng Ming Sha's pent-up frustration and rage erupted. Using the slight leeway in her waist and knees, she bounced and squirmed in small increments around the room, desperately trying to stretch her stiff and aching body. However, her legs remained firmly bound and pressed together by the dragon-patterned metal wire ropes, preventing her from separating her calves or bending her joints normally. Her feet were locked in stockings, rendering her soles and toes completely powerless. The main restraints around her body remained in place, unyielding, offering no slack. In this incomplete and restricted state, every slight bounce and small movement caused her body to sway violently, throwing her off balance. She had to strain to maintain her posture, holding it for a long time just to stand without falling, appearing utterly pathetic. With each stumble and each stiff wriggle, overwhelming frustration and shame gripped her mind. A tempest of unwillingness surged within her, a mixture of anger and hatred, with nowhere to vent her fury. She prided herself on her peerless martial arts, her unmatched prowess in the jianghu, her cultivation that shook the imperial court. Normally, her movements were graceful, leaving no trace on snow, her hands capable of overturning mountains and rivers, exuding an air of absolute freedom and arrogance. Yet now, with her martial arts suppressed and her body completely bound, the dignified Saintess of the Demonic Cult had been reduced to a state worse than that of an ordinary mortal. An ordinary woman could walk freely and with a steady gait, but she, possessing unparalleled cultivation, could only awkwardly squirm and stumble in a small room, teetering precariously with the slightest movement, utterly humiliated. This extreme disparity, this absurd confinement, ignited a raging inferno of anger within her. She longed to break free from all shackles and tear apart the ropes binding her. She gritted her teeth and cursed inwardly, deeming such cruel and strict confinement barbaric and an outrageous insult. It had effectively turned a peerless master into a stumbling, struggling invalid, a profound humiliation, an utter absurdity! But no matter how furious and unwilling she felt, how her heart seethed with indignation, the resilient dragon-patterned ropes remained unyielding, firmly shackling her body. All her pride and unwillingness could only manifest as repeated, pathetic swaying and futile squirming. She strained her body in minute ways, each wriggle and each stumbling struggle yielding no effect of breaking free. Instead, the taut metal wire dragon ropes tightened further, their slender strands slowly embedding into her flesh, bringing a fine yet agonizing sensation of tightness and confinement, locking down every inch of her being. Feng Ming Sha's mind was clear and lucid; she had long since accepted her reality. In her current state of complete lockdown, with her legs rigidly bound, her limbs rendered useless, and her martial arts completely sealed, escaping this small inn room was impossible, even with endless time to struggle. Moreover, Shen Yan Zhou sat calmly on a chair in the room, relaxed in posture but fully alert, his gaze passively resting on her every move, taking in all her struggles. He maintained a constant guard, giving her no opportunity. The overwhelming sense of powerlessness piled upon her, crushing her heart with bitterness and frustration. A torrent of regret and resolve surged within her. She swore fiercely in her heart that the humiliation of being so constrained and at another's mercy today would be etched into her memory forever. If she were ever fortunate enough to break free from these shackles and regain her freedom, she vowed never again to be captured and imprisoned by anyone. Should she ever find herself in such a predicament again, she would choose death over dishonor, ending her own life immediately rather than enduring such humiliating torment. Beyond the torment of the ropes, the specialized equipment that encased her body caused her immense suffering. The airtight silk stockings covering her hands and the three layers of thickened silk stockings on her legs clung tightly to her skin, creating a suffocating, sticky, and intensely uncomfortable sensation. The constant sweat of the past few days had caused the fabric to adhere to her flesh, making it hot and suffocating, severely restricting her every movement. Her fingertips and toes were locked down, preventing even the slightest exertion or stretch. She felt a surge of anger and resentment, secretly vowing that if she could ever break free from these restraints and regain her freedom, she would never again touch any close-fitting restrictive garments like silk stockings, unwilling to endure such hot, stifling, and movement-impeding torment. The intense squirming, repeated struggles, and friction of the past few days had already exhausted her strength. Yet, this seemingly thin and form-fitting silk attire was incredibly resilient. While appearing thin and soft on the outside, it was exceptionally tough. Despite her frantic efforts and repeated rubbing and squeezing over days, not only had it not snagged or torn, but not even a single wrinkle had appeared. It remained perfectly intact, astonishingly durable. She understood more clearly now that this set of specialized silk stockings and matching gloves were not ordinary fabrics. They were instruments of restraint specifically designed and tailored by the imperial court for her, their toughness far exceeding ordinary expectations. Furthermore, under the layers of dragon-patterned ropes binding and securing her body, the gloves and stockings were pressed tightly against her skin, fitting snugly and immovably. There was no possibility of them slipping off or being removed, completely locking her into this endless confinement. His tone paused, a boundary of unquestionable authority setting, each word clear: "But you must be obedient. No screaming, no shouting, no attempts to call for help. You will say what I tell you to say, and answer honestly. If you dare to play any tricks, I will seal you up again immediately, and you will be escorted the entire way, never given another chance to speak." Upon hearing this, Feng Ming Sha, who had been filled with pent-up frustration and a desperate struggle, suddenly felt as if she had grasped a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A flicker of light ignited in her eyes. For days, being gagged and silenced, unable to speak, only able to emit muffled groans from her throat, had driven her to the brink of collapse. The inability to refute, to accuse, to vent, all emotions forced to be suppressed within her heart, was a torment more unbearable than physical restraint. Now, hearing that her mouth could be unsealed and she could speak normally, all her defiance and anger instantly subsided, replaced by complete cooperation and urgency. She no longer struggled or thrashed. She calmly steadied her swaying form, nodding her head with all her might, her dark eyes fixed on Shen Yan Zhou, filled with earnestness and obedience. Soft, rapid whimpers continuously escaped her throat, no longer sounds of angry protest or unyielding grievance, but the subtle noises of obedient agreement and pleased compliance. This submissive, well-behaved, and completely cooperative demeanor was a posture she had never displayed during her escort thus far. All her sharp aggression and stubborn resistance had been shed, leaving her appearing entirely docile and obedient, a stark and striking contrast. Shen Yan Zhou observed this, confirming that she harbored no intention of any further disturbance. He immediately raised his hand, leaned in close to her face, and began to remove the restraints from her mouth. His fingertips deftly grasped the edge of the tape, peeling it off layer by layer, slowly removing all the sealing tape that had been affixed to her lips and chin. The tape had adhered to her skin for days, tightly bonded to the flesh, layered one upon another, creating an airtight seal. As it was peeled away, it revealed that the lower half of her small, delicate face had been covered with several thick layers of sealing tape, meticulously sealing her entire mouth, leaving no gap for air or sound to escape, a method of restraint of extreme severity. After removing all the tape, Shen Yan Zhou raised his hand again, reaching into her slightly slackened mouth, and began to extract the obstructions one by one. Balls of tightly packed cotton and layers of fine cloth were successively removed. They were substantial in quantity and packed in layers, filling her entire mouth to the brim. Only when the last piece of cloth was removed, and the blockage accumulated over days was completely cleared, did one finally understand why she had been completely speechless and unable to utter a single sound for days. The ample amount of cotton and cloth stuffed into her mouth had stretched her cheeks to their limit, rendering her tongue and mouth incapable of movement, biting, or vocalization. She had been forcibly silenced throughout, even her slightest exhalation was obstructed. With the sudden release of the restraints, her mouth and throat were instantly cleared. The pent-up stuffiness and discomfort of days surged forth. Before Feng Ming Sha could even speak, her chest and throat began to itch and tighten violently. She immediately doubled over, unable to stop herself from coughing and gagging softly. Her body trembled with each cough, her eyes instantly reddened, filled with a look of disheveled vulnerability. Days of being silenced and having her mouth and nose stuffy had left her throat dry and sore, her vocal cords stiff and numb. The sudden influx of air was difficult to adapt to, and even her breathing carried a faint tremor. Seeing this, Shen Yan Zhou's expression remained calm. He picked up the prepared water from the table and steadily held it to her lips, allowing the warm water to moisten her dry, sore throat bit by bit. The sweet, warm water slowly moistened her parched throat and damaged vocal cords, gradually diluting the dryness in her mouth and soothing the discomfort surging in her chest. After several cups of warm water had slowly gone down and repeatedly moistened her throat, Feng Ming Sha's violent coughing and gagging gradually subsided. The tension in her shoulders and back slowly relaxed, her rapid breathing gradually evened out, and she finally recovered from the extreme stuffiness and discomfort. However, her vocal cords remained dry and hoarse, her voice rough and weak, carrying the sluggishness of prolonged silence. Her speech was slow, and her breath was shallow. Shen Yan Zhou waited until her breathing stabilized before slowly speaking. His tone was calm and indifferent, devoid of favoritism or the harshness of an interrogation. He simply asked about the events: "Speak. What exactly happened? As the Saintess of the Demonic Cult, occupying your territory and keeping to yourselves, why did you completely offend the imperial court, leading to your nationwide capture and escort?" Feng Ming Sha lowered her eyes, her throat dryly swallowing air. She spoke in a hoarse voice, her tone deep and raspy, with a hint of the unfamiliarity of long silence, yet each word was clear, filled with defiance and grievance. "From beginning to end, it was not I who caused trouble for the court," she said, her voice carrying an ingrained arrogance and unwillingness as she slowly revealed the truth. "It was the court that secretly crossed the border, infiltrated my Demonic Cult's territory, and stole our hidden treasures from underground. I was merely taking back what belonged to my Demonic Cult, exactly as it was." He slightly raised his eyes, casting a faint glance at Feng Mingsha, who was bound and struggling to move, and stated with certainty, "If you were unrestrained and at full martial arts capacity right now, with no one to hold you back or interfere, crushing half the righteous sects of the martial world would likely be no challenge for you." This objective and highly accurate assessment of her combat power sent Feng Mingsha into a state of utter panic. What she feared most was being deemed extremely dangerous by Shen Yanzhou, leaving no room for any leniency. She immediately shook her head frantically, her hoarse voice laced with a hurried panic, and quickly tried to explain, "No... I'm not that powerful. I was exaggerating earlier; it was just some minor tricks and opportunistic maneuvers, not true top-tier combat prowess." But her explanation at this moment was ultimately too weak and unconvincing. It was she herself who had gotten carried away earlier, boasting with every word, her voice ringing with arrogance as she exaggerated her glorious achievements – slaying renowned constables, defeating imperial guards, her pride and confidence overflowing, fully showcasing her formidable combat strength. Having basked in the glory and blown her own horn, she now wanted to deliberately feign weakness and backtrack. No matter what she said, it would sound forced and like a clumsy attempt to cover up the truth. Everyone loved to flaunt their might, but she had just shot herself in the foot, leaving her in a dilemma with no room for rebuttal. Feng Mingsha's heart churned with impatience and frustration, shame and panic intertwined, wishing she could just throw her hands up in despair. She inwardly regretted it to the extreme; if her hands were free and unrestrained at this moment, she would have slapped herself hard, hating her own impulsive and boastful mouth. But her hands were locked down by silk stockings and restrictive ropes, rendering her completely immobile. She could only stand stiffly, letting the panic and regret surge within her, watching the growing wariness and caution in Shen Yanzhou's eyes, knowing it was utterly hopeless. Shen Yanzhou completely ignored her flustered and pale defense, not taking a single word to heart. He had now fully recognized her terrifying potential, and the last vestiges of his relaxation vanished, replaced by an even more meticulous vigilance. His gaze fell heavily upon Feng Mingsha's body, his eyes scanning inch by inch from the noose around her neck, the dragon-patterned restraints on her torso, her stiffly held legs, and her locked feet. He began to meticulously examine every restraint, carefully checking for any oversight or looseness, contemplating where he could further reinforce them to completely extinguish any possibility of her counterattack or escape. The man's focused examination of the restraints and his contemplation of reinforcement pressed down on Feng Mingsha's heart like a massive boulder, instantly chilling her entire body and causing cold sweat to break out in layers on her back. Her entire back tensed to a pale blue, the fear and regret in her heart surging to an extreme. She could no longer maintain any pretense of pride, and with a hoarse, trembling voice, she frantically pleaded, her tone filled with humble panic, "I really am not that powerful; I was just exaggerating earlier!" She was so anxious that her breathing became disordered, each word earnest and urgent as she desperately tried to defend herself and beg for mercy, "You've seen it yourself; for so many days along the way, I've been firmly restrained by you, never causing any trouble, never breaking free! I've been compliant and controlled the entire time, nowhere near as terrifyingly powerful as you imagine! Please don't tighten the restraints further, I beg you!" Countless bitter and regretful thoughts surged and tore at her mind, dense and endless, causing her immense torment. She truly regretted it to the core! It was all because she had been accustomed to holding a high position for years, looking down on everyone. In the past, she had controlled the demonic cult and roamed the martial world, with no one daring to defy her even slightly. Over time, this had cultivated a proud and arrogant nature, prone to boasting. In the past, no matter how formidable the enemy, she had always stood tall and unyielding, habitually displaying her strength, which had become ingrained in her bones and impossible to change. But she had been incredibly foolish, unable to distinguish the occasion or the situation! Now, trapped and at his mercy, she should have been low-key, feigned weakness, concealed her sharpness, and quietly lowered his guard, waiting for an opportunity to find a flaw in her confinement. But in a moment of carelessness, she had mindlessly boasted about her glorious combat power, directly exposing her terrifying trump cards. This had completely backfired! Originally, Shen Yanzhou had slightly relaxed his guard after the uneventful journey. If she had remained docile and feigned compliance, over time, she might have found a sliver of opportunity to break free and escape. But her momentary boast had completely shattered all her escape routes! Her heart cried out in frantic despair: It's over, it's completely over! After this incident, Shen Yanzhou had thoroughly understood her true combat power, knowing that she was a beast that could cause immense havoc once unleashed from her chains. For the remainder of the escort, he would undoubtedly be a hundred times more vigilant, reinforcing the restraints layer by layer, guarding her so tightly that not a single drop of water could leak through, leaving no room for any leniency. The slim chance of escape had been personally buried by her. Shen Yanzhou's expression turned cold, his eyes devoid of any relaxation. After confirming the general state of the restraints, he turned sideways and opened his travel bag, retrieving two additional sections of specially made gray short silk stockings from a hidden compartment. His gaze fell heavily on Feng Mingsha's hands. Those slender, fair hands had never been given any slack. For days, they had been tightly bound and sealed by specially made adhesive tape and thickened silk stocking gloves, her skin completely airtight, her fingertips, palm lines, and joints all imprisoned and sealed. The prolonged restraint had forced her palms to curl inward, habitually forming two soft, taut little balls, completely losing the ability to stretch and open, unable even to perform the slightest flex or extension. Shen Yanzhou's eyes were stern, his movements swift and decisive. He took out the new gray short silk stockings he had prepared and, on top of the already thick and tight restraints on her hands, he wrapped and bound them layer upon layer, forcefully encasing her two curled-up hands into a single, tightly bound unit. After securing her hands, he did not stop. He continued to take out the gilded fine cords and additional adhesive tape he had brought, systematically reinforcing the key joints around her body. Feng Ming Sha curled up in the center of the stone pavilion, her stiff body unable to move an inch, only her eyes could gently shift. She quietly observed Shuang Ling not far away, her gaze meticulously scanning the heavy wooden cangue pressing down on the other's shoulders, the muzzle and nose completely sealed with tape, the hands locked in their slots, and the legs wrapped in white silk, unable to move an inch in the mud. Her heart was ice-cold and dead. Shuang Ling's restraint, though seemingly less constricting than her own folded and tightly bound form, was a series of inescapable locks. The wooden cangue pressed on her bones and shoulders, immobilizing all head and neck movement. Her hands were jammed, impossible to break free. Her legs were restricted, rendering her immobile. There was no leverage for struggle anywhere on her body. Even though the other possessed a fierce wildness and unmatched martial prowess in the jianghu, under this set of shackles, she was utterly incapacitated, with no possibility of escape. On the other side, Shuang Ling also stared intently at the curled-up Feng Ming Sha, the ferocity in her eyes slightly abating, replaced by a deep shock and despair. She had fought in the jianghu for many years and seen countless restraints and confinements, but had never encountered such a harsh and extreme binding. The black and gold qipao fit snugly, like a lock. The grey silk gloves and long stockings sealed every inch of her skin. Her entire body was folded and bound into a ball, her limbs and torso completely immobilized, even the slightest movement of her toes and fingertips was sealed off. This kind of all-encompassing, no-blind-spot confinement was several times more terrifying than her own wooden cangue restraint; it was a true cage where not an inch of force could be applied, a complete prison. The two looked at each other, and a complete, despairing sense of hopelessness arose in both their hearts simultaneously. They were both top experts of their time, individuals who could once break a thousand locks with a raised hand and shatter restraints with a turn of their body. But now, looking at the unsolvable confinement on each other, they finally faced reality – neither of them could save the other. Feng Ming Sha gave a bitter, self-mocking smile in her heart: her entire body was folded and bound, unable to move even a centimeter. Even if Shuang Ling had the slightest ability to break free, she couldn't possibly get close, let alone dismantle the layers of ropes and unlock the restraints. As for Shuang Ling, with the shackles pressing down on her and her unsteady gait, she could barely stand, making it even more impossible for her to untie Feng Ming Sha. Shuang Ling's heart was equally cold, her ferocity churning. She had never felt so stifled and helpless. She had thought that as fellow sufferers, there might be a glimmer of hope, but seeing Feng Ming Sha's completely locked-up state, she instantly understood that they were both in a desperate situation, prisoners of each other, unable to help each other in the slightest, destined to be trapped and die in this small rain pavilion. In their desperation, a strong urge arose in both their hearts: they desperately wanted to know each other's identity, to communicate their situations, to probe if either had a way to escape, and even to reveal their own backgrounds, seeking a sliver of possibility for cooperation. But the two layers of thick, sealed tape and the cotton wadding stuffed into their mouths completely sealed off all channels of speech. Feng Ming Sha was the first to act, exerting force in her throat, trying to make a sound to signal. Soft, suppressed whimpers intermittently escaped her lips: "Mmm... woo woo..." She desperately thought in her heart: *Who are you? Are you also a martial arts expert deliberately captured? Can you break free from your restraints yourself?* But all her clear thoughts ultimately turned into a muffled, soft groan, understood by no one, solved by no one. Seeing this, Shuang Ling immediately sensed the other's intention. She also forcefully pushed her throat, wanting to speak in response and exchange information, but the heavy tape tightly sealed her jaw, and the cotton wadding filled her mouth and nose, only allowing her to emit hoarse and muffled whimpers: "Woo... mmm..." Her heart raged with urgency: *Why are you bound so tightly? Who are the people who captured you? Is there a way to escape? Can we cooperate if the opportunity arises?* The two whimpers intertwined in the rain pavilion, fragmented, suppressed, and indistinct. One after another, they were both desperately pouring out their feelings, desperately asking, desperately probing, yet to no avail. Feng Ming Sha listened to Shuang Ling's hoarse muffled sounds, only discerning her urgency and rage, but completely unable to understand any of what she was trying to express. Shuang Ling looked at Feng Ming Sha's gentle and wronged whimpers, only able to perceive her helplessness, but unable to decipher her inner desires and messages at all. Two top experts who should have dominated the jianghu and shaken the world with their words, now trapped in a small rain pavilion, gazing at each other face-to-face, their hearts filled with a thousand words, their minds with calculations and urgency, could only emit monotonous whimpers. After a long period of futile communication, it was like talking to a chicken about to lay an egg, yielding nothing. This scene was absurd and comical, tragic and humiliating. After several futile attempts at communication through whimpers, both fell silent, the hope in their eyes completely extinguished, leaving only a deep sense of powerlessness and frustration. Feng Ming Sha gently closed her eyes, her heart filled with bitterness and helplessness. She, who once looked down on all heroes and decided life and death with a smile, was now completely stripped of the right to even communicate simply with another person, trapped within layers of restraints, allowing despair to erode her mind. Shuang Ling, on the other hand, gritted her teeth tightly, ferocity surging in her eyes, her heart filled with rage and frustration with nowhere to vent. Her body trembled violently, but she was locked by the wooden cangue and ropes, with no room to vent her anger or struggle. For a time, the entire serene rain pavilion was filled with the two strange whimpering sounds. Feng Ming Sha's soft, fragmented whimpers and Shuang Ling's hoarse, deep groans intertwined, rising and falling, overlapping and continuous. Each sound was muffled and suppressed, without tune or rhythm, mixing with the patter of rain and the clear breeze in the bamboo forest, sounding bizarre and strange, as if the two were together, humming a peculiar, incomprehensible ancient ballad, utterly absurd. Feng Ming Sha's chest rose and fell gently, her lips, sealed by tape, trembling, and fragmented whimpers squeezed from her throat repeatedly: "Mmm... woo woo..." Her heart burned with anxiety, and she repeatedly cried out in her mind: *Who are you? Judging by your attire and restraints, you are no ordinary jianghu rogue, but a top expert with a major case! Who are the people who captured you? Can you find a weakness and escape? If we join forces, we might have a chance to turn the tables!* But all her meticulous calculations and urgent questions were tightly blocked by the cotton wadding in her mouth, unable to emerge as any clear words, only turning into soft, powerless whimpers, floating lightly in the wind and rain. Seeing this, Shuang Ling immediately tensed her body. The heavy wooden cangue made her shoulder bones stiff, but she still exerted force, squeezing rough, muddy whimpers from her throat, each sound carrying ferocity and anxiety: "Woo! Mmm—!" Fierce light surged in her eyes, her heart filled with impatience and probing: *Don't just hum aimlessly! Looking at how strangely and tightly you're bound, the people who captured you must be of great importance! Are you a wanted criminal of the court or a rebel of the jianghu? Can you understand me? If we can help each other, we might be able to escape today!* The elder accepted the cold, heavy metal rope, his fingertips caressing the fine, sharp dragon patterns, his eyes filled with admiration and solemnity. Having walked the martial world for decades, he recognized the extraordinary nature of this restraint at a glance, far more exquisite and domineering than the shackles he used to apprehend criminals. He immediately cupped his hands in thanks, "Thank you,镖师 Shen, for your generous gift. Such a top-tier confinement tool truly surpasses the ordinary." To completely secure the restraints and eliminate any possibility of Shuang Ling escaping, the two exchanged a tacit glance and rose together, intending to jointly modify her bonds. The two top martial artists of the current era stepped forward side-by-side, their auras steady and sharp. The elder raised his hand first, applying force with his fingertips, and skillfully dismantled the heavy, old wooden yoke on Shuang Ling's shoulders. The moment the thick wooden yoke was removed, Shuang Ling's shoulders suddenly felt a release, the heavy pressure on her neck and shoulders for days completely gone. However, this relief was fleeting, as deeper confinement awaited. Without the positional limitation of the wooden yoke, her upper body, which had been stiffly fixed, finally had a slight range of motion. Knowing that only more stringent confinement awaited her, a fierce glint surged in Shuang Ling's eyes, and the residual ferocity in her body instantly churned. She struggled with all her might. She tensed the sore, stiff muscles all over her body, her feet wrapped in muddy white silk desperately pushing against the ground, her body twisting violently, wanting to break free from their control and escape the desperate situation before her. The explosive power of a former top assassin erupted, her movements carrying sharp force. But all struggle was ultimately in vain. She had been confined by shackles for days, her blood and qi stagnant, her muscles stiff and weak. Her limbs had largely lost their functional strength, and her peak combat power was less than a tenth of what it once was. Moreover, she was now facing Shen Yanzhou and the elder, two top experts – one peerless in offense and defense, the other invincible in apprehending criminals. The two of them jointly controlled the situation, step-by-step locking down all space for evasion and struggle. All her counterattacks, twists, and struggles were easily suppressed and dismantled. Shen Yanzhou raised his hand and firmly grasped her shoulders, his grip heavy and domineering, pinning her struggling body. The elder precisely controlled her stiff arms, his movements swift and decisive, allowing her no room for any deviation. The two cooperated seamlessly, their movements flowing like water, easily holding the struggling Shuang Ling firmly in place. In the next moment, the two exerted their combined strength, forcefully bending her hands, which were stuck in the wooden yoke's groove and sealed with tape, backward. They twisted both arms behind her. Shuang Ling's body tensed, her teeth clenched, a torrent of rage and unwillingness surging in her chest. Hoarse, rapid whimpers escaped her throat as she used her last ounce of strength to twist her body in resistance. But before the absolute suppression of the two masters, she was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, with no chance of turning the tables. Once her arms were completely bent behind her back and locked in place, Shen Yanzhou took out the dragon-patterned metal rope he had just gifted the elder. The two, one on each side, lifted the cold, hard rope, winding it layer upon layer, crisscrossing, diligently and securely binding her arms, wrists, and shoulders. The dragon-patterned metal rope gifted this time had limited length, not enough to wrap her entire body, but just enough to densely bind her entire upper torso. The black dragon-patterned metal rope was cold and hard, with a sharp metallic texture. The two worked with skilled and sharp movements, winding it layer upon layer over Shuang Ling's shoulders, under her armpits, along her entire arms and wrists, creating a dense, impenetrable weave. Each loop of the rope was tightly packed against the next, leaving no gaps, maximally constricting her upper body's musculature, firmly locking all movement in her neck, shoulders, shoulder blades, and back. From the moment Shen Yanzhou took out and gifted the rope, Shuang Ling had clearly seen that this was no ordinary restraint rope. The rope's restrained, cold texture, the fine, dense dragon patterns, and the toughness she could feel upon touch far surpassed ordinary restraint tools in the world. It was a top-tier forbidden artifact specifically designed to restrain martial arts experts and lock down physical cultivation. A deep sense of dread had already arisen in her heart. Now, with this peerless, ferocious rope wrapping around her body, the cold rope pressing tightly against her muscles, each tightening loop carrying an irresistible force of confinement, her dread turned into bone-chilling despair, spreading and completely overwhelming her mind. She knew better than anyone that ordinary wooden yokes and hemp ropes had already made her unable to move or break free. With such an extraordinary forbidden rope on her, all her hidden potential for struggle and any slim hope of escape were completely sealed off. Her arms, bent behind her back, were the focus of the confinement. Her entire arms, forearms, and wrists were repeatedly wrapped and bound by the metal rope, pressed tightly against her back and spine. Her arms were completely straightened and fixed, unable to move, bend, extend, twist, or break free, completely nullifying all motor functions of her entire arms. It is worth noting that Shen Yanzhou did not use the exclusive locking mechanism or unique key to reinforce the confinement, as the key to unlocking this dragon-patterned metal rope was unique and always kept on his person. What was used now was merely the most conventional and ordinary tight knot, with no hidden clasps or special locking mechanisms. Yet, even with just ordinary knots, it remained an unsolvable restraint for Shuang Ling. Her hands were still tightly wrapped in multiple layers of sticky tape, her fingers completely stiffened and locked, unable to open or close, bend or extend. She couldn't even perform the most basic actions of gripping, touching, or dismantling, and had no ability to untie the knots herself. With just these densely packed, conventional knots, combined with her completely incapacitated hands and this extraordinary forbidden rope that inherently countered martial arts, she was firmly restrained, completely eliminating any possibility of struggle, counterattack, or self-escape. The slight freedom of movement in her upper body that remained after the wooden yoke was removed was now completely sealed by these layers of dense knots. Compared to the previous rough and loose confinement of the wooden yoke, this binding was now more intimate, snug, and maximally restrictive, rendering the rebellious assassin's upper body completely stiff and fixed, with no room for any further movement. The air in the Southern Xinjiang waterways was thick with the scent of commerce, and Shen Yanzhou’s gaze, as it drifted over Bailan, held a subtle, almost imperceptible dissonance. From the moment she had appeared, Bailan had stood unnaturally rigid, her posture unyielding. Her voice was smooth, her eyes gentle, her words graceful and assured. Yet, beyond the slight movement of her lips and the subtle flicker of her eyes, her shoulders, arms, and back remained utterly still. The unconscious gestures of a normal speaker – a raised hand, a dropped shoulder, a slight shift of weight, a casual touch to her hair – were entirely absent. A voluminous, dark cloak concealed her entire upper body, rendering her limbs and movements invisible, leaving only a stark, unnervingly static posture. Years of navigating the treacherous currents of the martial world had honed Shen Yanzhou’s observational skills to a razor’s edge. Such minute deviations could not escape his notice. He understood, though his expression remained impassive. His voice softened as he inquired, "It has been many years. How have you fared, Boss Bailan? Are your waterway ventures and personal affairs proceeding smoothly?" At his gentle question, Bailan’s composed features tightened almost imperceptibly, a flush of undeniable awkwardness and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Her gaze flickered away for a moment before returning to Shen Yanzhou, her mind racing. This man was the one who had risked his life to protect her years ago; he was no stranger, no casual acquaintance. There was no need for pretense, no reason to maintain a facade of strength. The years of hidden confinement, the daily struggle for control, felt like a betrayal of their shared history when faced with her benefactor. To hide now would be to create a false distance. Her decision made, Bailan shed all pretense of reserve. She nodded calmly and cast a subtle glance at the maid standing attentively at her side. Two sharp-eyed maids, understanding her unspoken command, stepped forward. With gentle, practiced movements, they reached for the ties of the dark cloak, untied the knot, and carefully lifted it from her shoulders, folding it neatly and setting it aside. The moment the cloak fell away, a bizarre, intricate, and chillingly beautiful metal restraint was fully revealed to Shen Yanzhou’s gaze. The metal, gleaming with a cold, ethereal sheen, possessed a density and fineness far beyond ordinary iron or copper. Its surface was adorned with elaborate, swirling cloud patterns, like intricate carvings on a palace beam, beautiful and opulent. Yet, this exquisite artistry was imbued with an aura of extreme coldness and lethal restraint, a jarring fusion of breathtaking beauty and chilling confinement that was profoundly striking. This metal contraption fit Bailan’s upper body with uncanny precision, like a custom-forged suit of armor. It locked from her jawline and neck, sealing her at the base of her throat, then flowed downwards to encase her chest, shoulders, back, abdomen, and waist, covering her entire torso without a single gap. The entire set of restraints rigidly locked her upper body’s joints, bones, and torso, fixing her entire upper half in a rigid, unyielding posture. She was incapable of tilting, twisting, or turning, her chest’s natural rise and fall severely restricted, allowing only shallow, controlled breaths. Most startling of all were her arms and hands. Her arms were forced into a bent position by internal slots within the metal apparatus, locked tightly against her back and waist. Her bones and joints were completely immobilized, leaving no room for flexion, extension, or rotation. Her slender, elegant hands were then swathed in layers of thick, dense, dark fabric, wound tightly and immovably, compressing them into two compact, firm spheres. Her fingers were locked solid, unable to unfurl, rendering all hand functions useless, even the slightest twitch impossible. Now, Bailan’s lower body was clad in elegant, form-fitting, pale yellow silk stockings, her figure graceful and well-proportioned. Her face remained composed and serene, but her upper body was encased in this ornate, chilling metal cage, utterly immobile. The stark contrast between her graceful form and the bizarre confinement created a profoundly unsettling and incongruous image. What was most baffling was the construction and method of attachment of this metal device. Shen Yanzhou examined it closely, his gaze sweeping over its entire surface, meticulously scrutinizing every inch, every pattern, every seam. He found no screws, no joints, no welding marks, no visible locks or clasps. The entire restraint appeared seamless, as if it had grown directly onto her body from its inception, an inseparable, unremovable cage. The light caught the cold, metallic cloud patterns, reflecting a faint, spectral glow that illuminated Bailan’s slightly resigned eyes. Her body was rigid, her upper half unmoving, only her eyes lowered slightly, a mixture of acceptance and bitterness in their depths, as she quietly awaited Shen Yanzhou’s inquiry. Shen Yanzhou’s gaze did not linger on the metal itself but traced its edges downwards, discovering another deeply unsettling detail. Beneath the metal clasps, instead of ordinary undergarments, was a layer of clothing that clashed jarringly with the opulent outer attire, a strange and intimate covering that tightly encased her body. Bai Lan gazed at her rigid, unmoving upper body, her eyes filled with helplessness and suppressed pain. Seizing the opportunity to speak with her savior today, she finally decided to reveal the myriad torments hidden within her confinement, supplementing the secret physical sensations that outsiders could not perceive. "Outsiders see these metal clasps as a seamless whole, locking my body tightly, and assume my entire torso is completely stiff and immobile," she began softly, her voice laced with the fatigue of long confinement. "But that's not entirely true. I can still twist my neck, bend my waist, and make small movements with my body. It's only my arms that are completely locked by the metal grooves, binding my bones and meridians. I have absolutely no room to lift, bend, or rotate them. They are truly and utterly rendered useless, suspended rigidly behind my back at all times, with no respite day or night." She slowly recounted the unique physical sensations of her confinement, each word a testament to her truth: "If I try to bend over or twist my body significantly, the metal structure will tighten and pull at my torso. My muscles and skin will be forcibly stretched, causing waves of aching, bone-piercing tightness and discomfort. Every large movement is an ordeal, and over time, no one dares to move recklessly." "But compared to this cold, ornate metal prison armor, what truly wears me down day after day, what is the most unbearable, has always been this set of strangely fitting silk undergarments worn beneath." "You dealt with me several times in the past and are well aware of my former capabilities," she said slowly, her voice tinged with a deep bitterness. "I used to control a large portion of the water trade in the southern territories, with connections spanning officialdom, the underworld, and both land and water routes. My influence was already considered far-reaching. Whether it was skilled artisans in the markets, extraordinary individuals from the martial world, or meticulous craftsmen from the government and technicians from sects, anyone I wished to recruit would come. Ordinary mechanical restraints and iron locks were easily deciphered and overcome in my eyes." Now, she slightly moved her still-mobile neck, indicating the unsolvable restraints that bound her entire body, her heart filled with utter helplessness. "Yet, this strange and restrictive attire, no matter how much effort I expended or how many connections I leveraged, no matter how many top-tier mechanics and skilled artisans from across the land I consulted, bringing in countless individuals adept at dismantling mechanisms, forging fine iron, and weaving resilient materials, to meticulously study and repeatedly attempt to break free from head to toe, I have found absolutely no way to undo it." "Let alone this seamless, gapless, peculiar metal clasp on the outside, even this form-fitting, dark-patterned silk undergarment inside cannot be torn, damaged, or dismantled by anyone." Bai Lan's tone grew increasingly bitter as she spoke of years of unresolved torment: "The silk is inexplicably tough. It cannot be cut by a blade, damaged by fire, or corroded by water. All ordinary, and even top-tier, methods of dismantling are rendered ineffective. The entire set of restraints seems to be divinely ordained, clinging to us so tightly that there is no possibility of loosening or damaging it." "My dozen or so accompanying maids and I, since waking up after that attack, have been forced into this full-body binding and confinement, day after day, year after year." Day after day, year after year, trapped within this double layer of restraint, unable to move, with no means of release, constantly enduring the oppressive tightness and the torment of sweat, completely reduced to prisoners of this bizarre confinement suit. Shen Yanzhou listened in silence, his expression growing more somber and profound. He did not rush to speak, but instead slowly circled Bai Lan several times, his gaze meticulously scanning every inch of her integrated metal clasps and dark-patterned silk undergarment. He missed no detail of the patterns or the texture of the materials, taking in the craftsmanship and style of this unsolvable confinement. Having long been exposed to various forbidden arts of the martial world, secret sect mechanisms, and high-level government restraints, he had already cultivated a keen eye for discerning artifacts and techniques. The more he looked, the clearer and more certain his conjectures became. This set of equipment bore no trace of common craftsmanship or the crude marks of ordinary mechanisms. The patterns were orderly and imposing, the materials were exceptional, and the seamless forging process and integrated binding techniques were far beyond the reach of ordinary artisans or wandering martial artists. After his inspection, Shen Yanzhou looked up at Bai Lan, his eyes holding a subtle, profound gaze. Bai Lan, with her sharp intellect and exceptional intelligence, instantly understood the unspoken message in his eyes, knowing that this secret and heavy topic could not be discussed in front of outsiders. Without hesitation, she turned and sternly ordered the maids and attendants lined up behind her, efficiently dismissing everyone. The maids bowed in unison, accepting the command without a word or delay. They turned and retreated from the pier hall and courtyard, withdrawing to the outer perimeter to stand guard. In an instant, the spacious and elegant riverside hall was cleared of all outsiders, leaving it empty and silent, completely isolating all ears and eyes. Only Shen Yanzhou and Bai Lan remained, alone in the quiet stillness. Confirming that the surroundings were completely empty, with no possibility of eavesdropping, Shen Yanzhou finally spoke, his voice low and controlled, each word steady and precise, revealing his judgment: "Your restraints cannot be dismantled or opened by ordinary martial world mechanisms or common folk craftsmanship. Even the world's top mechanical masters and ingenious artisans would ultimately be helpless." He paused slightly, his gaze returning to her exquisite and peculiar confinement, his tone adding a touch of gravity. "But observing the intricate patterns, the integrated craftsmanship, and the method of unyielding restraint of this set of equipment, it is absolutely not something ordinary martial forces could create. In my opinion, it is most likely the work of top figures from reclusive sects, or even... beings from a level above sects." These words struck Bai Lan like thunder, exploding in her ears. Her originally suppressed, pale face instantly drained of all color. Her pupils contracted sharply, her face a mask of disbelief and terror. Her body trembled slightly from extreme shock. Even though her upper body was completely locked, she could not conceal the immense tremor in her heart, and she gasped, "You mean... the imperial court?!" This question struck the most hidden and dangerous core. If confirmed, it would spell immense disaster. The thick, sealed carriage curtains had long blocked out the daylight. Now, as the carriage came to a steady halt, Shen Yanzhou deftly lifted the layers of fabric. He leaned into the carriage, his movements gentle and steady, and carefully carried out two figures, stiff and rigid, their slender, snow-white and ink-black bodies bound tightly by silk restraints. Bai Lan, who had been standing by, watching silently, was utterly stunned the moment she clearly saw the two women. Her pupils dilated slightly, her eyes wide with extreme shock and disbelief, unable to recover for a long time. She had initially believed that her own confinement, along with that of her attendant, was the ultimate torment in this world. Metal locks binding her body, silk garments suffocating her, her torso rigid, an eternal, unsolvable predicament – these were already beyond what an ordinary person could bear. But seeing these two women, from head to toe, completely encased in a full-body restraint, locked down inch by inch with no room for movement, their slightest bodily twitches extremely restricted, rendered speechless day and night, a stark contrast suddenly struck her heart. At this moment, she suddenly realized that her own restraints seemed far from severe or extreme. At least she could still freely turn her head, twist her neck, bend her waist, and make small movements with her body. Her mouth and tongue were unimpeded, allowing her to speak freely. Her lower body was completely unrestrained, allowing her to move at will. But these two women before her, from head to toe, were completely sealed within silk cages, their flesh, speech, and movements entirely stripped away. They were trapped so completely, so utterly, with no room to spare. The torment and humiliation they endured were a hundred times deeper than her own. The immense visual impact and the contrast in her state of mind left Bai Lan frozen in place, her upper body stiff and unmoving. She remained speechless for a long time, her heart a complex mix of emotions, unable to articulate whether it was pity, sympathy, or a sliver of absurd relief. She had managed the water trade routes of the Southern Border for decades, witnessing countless human affairs and familiar with the intricate schemes of the martial world. She considered herself well-traveled and experienced, having seen all manner of prisoner restraints and martial world confinements. Yet, she had never encountered such an extreme, meticulous, and all-encompassing method of binding and restricting a person's body. The intense curiosity in her heart overwhelmed her brief melancholy. Disregarding the inconvenience of her semi-rigid upper body, she shifted her steps slightly and moved closer, circling the white and black silk cocoon figures in Shen Yanzhou's arms, observing them closely from all sides, her gaze meticulously scanning every inch, filled with astonishment and inquiry. The closer she looked, the more profound her shock became. Beneath the smooth surface of the pure white silk covering Su Qingyao and the black silk encasing Feng Mingsha, she could clearly discern the layers upon layers of dense binding patterns within. Countless thin ropes and tapes crisscrossed, tightly cinching every inch of muscle and tissue in their torsos and limbs, completely compressing and fixing their bodies. Such a suffocating bind had almost entirely eliminated any space for their limbs to exert force or move. It was no wonder these two peerless women had completely lost the ability to stand, walk, or lift their hands to twist. They were like bound insects, only able to move their bodies with the slightest exertion of their abdominal muscles, utterly incapable of any independent action. Her gaze shifted downwards, landing on their lips and chins, sealed by layers of tape. The more she looked, the clearer it became. Their lips were sealed tightly, their cheeks slightly puffed out, their contours full and rigid. It was immediately evident that their mouths must have been stuffed with thick cotton wads and foreign objects, completely blocking any means of vocalization, articulation, or protest. This double layer of internal and external sealing had ultimately rendered them speechless throughout. All their emotions and unspoken words were unable to be conveyed, leaving them trapped within the sealed silk cages, only able to emit soft, muffled whimpers and groans, full of grievance and helplessness. At the same time, Su Qingyao and Feng Mingsha, held in Shen Yanzhou's arms, both raised their eyes and gazed fixedly at Bai Lan, who stood in a peculiar posture before them. They felt the same surprise and confusion. They exchanged a glance instinctively, their clear eyes filled with bewilderment and suspicion. The same thought arose in their minds simultaneously: In this world, there were still women who were similarly trapped in confinement? The Bai Lan before them was graceful and elegant, with a dignified demeanor. Her lower body, with her legs extended freely and unhindered, allowed her to move, though her upper body's restraint made her movements somewhat stiff. However, she was far more mobile than they were, completely rigid and unable to move an inch. Yet, her upper body was locked down by a seamless metal prison armor and an inner-lined silk garment, rendering her torso rigid and her arms useless. This peculiar state of semi-freedom was a unique form of confinement they had never witnessed. Their eyes filled with surprise as they carefully examined Bai Lan's integrated, seamless restraint. They inwardly marveled. The material of this confinement device was cold and sharp, its patterns domineering, and its craftsmanship exquisite. Nested and fused together, it appeared to only restrain half her body, yet it was far more unsolvable and troublesome than ordinary chains or ropes. It was certainly not an ordinary item that could be forged by common market forces or ordinary martial arts factions. It was, as expected, of the same origin and quality as the royal-issue restraints they wore – top-tier, specially made secret prison gear. With this realization, the two speechless beauties, one white and one black, simultaneously emitted soft, fragmented whimpers from their throats, their muffled sounds intertwining. Their gazes met and they looked at each other gently, their eyes filled with deep confusion, bewilderment, and absurd speculation. For a moment, they were both speechless, their hearts filled with a sense of wry amusement and chaotic emotion. Earlier, when the carriage had passed through the bustling market, they had vaguely sensed the commotion outside through the curtains. They had glimpsed a line of female bandits, their hair braided together, shackled, and forced to walk on stilts, all in confinement. That bizarre scene of a string of beauties regulated and restrained, forming a chain of prisoners, had already deeply shocked them, making them feel that the world's restraints were endlessly varied and unbelievable. They had thought that was the ultimate absurdity, but they never expected that upon stepping out of the sealed carriage today, they would encounter another group of stunning women in confinement. This dignified woman before them, clearly a high-ranking businesswoman, had also fallen victim to restraints, her upper body locked by metal prison armor and an inner-lined silk garment, rendering her torso rigid and her arms useless, reducing her to a state of semi-freedom. Having encountered a series of confined women consecutively, Su Qingyao and Feng Mingsha simultaneously had an utterly absurd thought: Could it be that these days, it was fashionable to bind and confine all beautiful women? Since their capture and confinement, throughout their journey, they had not seen a single woman of outstanding beauty who was free and unrestrained. Their eyes were filled with various states of imprisonment and different types of restraints, as if all the beauties in the world were destined to be bound and controlled, with not a trace of unrestrained freedom to be found. Her gaze fell upon the two women still rigidly bound and locked down on the ground, and she stated with certainty, "Since we cannot discern their appearance or words, let us judge by their skills! Untie them and let them spar. Whichever one can unleash the unique demonic arts and supreme martial skills of a witch will undoubtedly be the true Phoenix Venerable! The righteous scoundrel spouting lies will be exposed in a single move!" This statement instantly enlightened everyone. A crowd of subordinates nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with sudden understanding. They all felt this was the most secure and foolproof method of identification. However, upon hearing this, Su Qingyao, on the ground, did not show the slightest panic. Instead, she felt completely at ease, her eyes devoid of fear, even carrying a hint of confident composure. Only she and Feng Mingsha knew in their hearts that the restraints on their bodies were by no means something ordinary means could undo. This set of silk restraints was a special, unsolvable prison tool custom-made by the imperial court. Paired with specialized gel, binding ropes, and multiple layers of sealing tape, it locked down muscle and joint layer by layer. It tightened with sweat and solidified with force, its toughness far exceeding that of fine steel chains. It was a unique apparatus specifically designed to seal the cultivation of peak martial artists and immobilize their limbs, eliminating the possibility of forceful external breakage from its very inception. The subordinates immediately responded and stepped forward, eager to verify the truth. They reached out to tear at the silk sleeves, tape, and binding ropes on the two women. Some grabbed the black and white silk restraints and pulled with all their might, their fingertips tensing, veins bulging, but the silk only stretched slightly, showing no sign of loosening. Others attempted to pry open the edges of the tape, but the layers of tape and gel had already fused seamlessly with the silk and skin, becoming one, making it impossible to find a starting point. Several strong female assassins took turns trying, some pulling ropes, some tearing tape, some yanking silk sleeves, using all their brute strength. They even took out their personal light, thin daggers to carefully cut. But strangely, the sharp blades repeatedly rubbed and scraped against the close-fitting silk outer shell. Not only did they fail to cut through even a fraction, but they were also repelled by the resilient silk, unable to even damage the surface texture. After several rounds of struggle, everyone was filled with confusion and astonishment. They had exerted force and employed every method, yet not only could they not undo the restraints on their bodies, but they couldn't even tear or cut through the outermost silk stocking restraint shell on the two women. This group of low-level subordinates had never encountered such an unsolvable restraint. Despite their confusion and all their efforts to break free, it was ultimately futile, yielding no results. Su Qingyao quietly felt the immovable restraints on her body, her heart completely at peace. She knew that these restraints, which ordinary weapons and brute force could not shake, were her strongest shield at this moment. As long as the restraints were not undone, no one could expose her lies, and this farce of true and false witches would continue to stalemate. Meanwhile, Feng Mingsha watched her subordinates' clumsy and futile actions, feeling only endless absurdity and frustration. Her peerless martial arts, the pride of the world, were completely sealed by this unsolvable prison tool. Now, she truly found herself in an embarrassing predicament, with strength but nowhere to use it, and unable to explain herself. She could no longer bear to watch her subordinates' pointless struggles. With a heart full of annoyance and suppressed anger, she coldly spoke to stop them, her voice laced with extreme impatience and fury, "Stop wasting your energy. There's no need to continue." The subordinates' movements abruptly halted. They all lowered their heads to look at the stiff, black-clad woman on the ground, awaiting her next words. Feng Mingsha suppressed the surging anger in her heart and said coldly, word by word, "The restraints on my body are a special, unsolvable prison tool exclusively made by the imperial court. Its material is unique and solidifies with force. Ordinary brute strength and weapon cuts are useless; it is impossible to break it by external force. Only the escort who brought me here possesses a small, exclusive key, the only thing in the world that can unlock these restraints." As soon as she said this, all the subordinates of the demonic cult were in an uproar, their faces instantly filled with shock and difficulty. "You immediately turn back and capture that escort. Only by obtaining his key can my restraints be unlocked," Feng Mingsha commanded forcefully, with her usual authoritative tone, leaving no room for refusal. However, her response was met only with the embarrassed expressions of her subordinates looking at each other, their faces filled with difficulty, none of them responding to the order. Everyone's hearts grew cold, filled with helplessness and regret. To escape quickly and evade pursuers, they had carried the two prisoners and galloped on horseback for a full half-hour, traveling a thousand miles away from the riverbank dock. Now that time had passed, it was completely too late to turn back and retrace their steps. That merchant ship, after they disembarked and retreated, had already sailed far downstream with the river current. Half an hour had passed, and it had long since disappeared into the vast river, its whereabouts unknown, leaving no trace. They had risked their lives to storm the ship tonight, fought desperately, sacrificed their leader Ye Wan, and with immense effort, risked the annihilation of their entire group to rescue their Saintess from enemy territory. This was a great achievement. But no one had anticipated that the biggest flaw would be these unsolvable restraints. No one had ever imagined that the imperial standard prison equipment would be so absurd, absolutely unsolvable without a key, and impossible to break by any means. What they had rescued at the cost of their lives was not the peerless witch who once roamed the martial world with unrestrained killing intent, but a person completely locked down by layers of restraints, with stiff limbs, unable to stand or move, only able to wriggle slightly on the ground, like a mere ant in a cage. The grand and desperate rescue mission had ultimately ended in an awkward and laughable stalemate. They had succeeded in rescuing the person, but could not free her from her predicament. They had brought back the Saintess, but could not restore the Saintess's freedom and combat power. Feng Mingsha looked at her subordinates' dejected and helpless expressions, and felt the immovable, impenetrable restraints on her body. The suppressed frustration and anger that had been building up throughout the journey finally broke through all her limits of forbearance. Surrounded by her own followers, those who should have sworn their lives to her and recognized her absolutely, she no longer needed to suppress her emotions. She completely lost control on the spot. Her body, stiff on the ground, writhed and struggled frantically. Her limbs, locked by the unsolvable silk restraints, thrashed desperately. Her shoulders trembled violently, her waist twisted repeatedly. Even though she could only wriggle slightly and cause no significant disturbance, she continued to thrash as if to vent her frustration. The tightly bound silk sleeves vibrated slightly from her struggles but remained motionless, instead making her body feel increasingly tense and sore. The usually proud and aloof, peerlessly dignified witch, now completely disregarding her status and demeanor, cursed loudly, her voice carrying immense rage and extreme absurdity, "A bunch of useless trash! All of you are good-for-nothings!" "You spent half a month tracking my whereabouts, risked your lives to storm the ship, lost personnel, and lost your leader, only to finally rescue me, yet you are helpless against mere prison tools!" Feng Mingsha's anger surged, her words cold and sharp, filled with the fury of disappointment, "You fail to recognize your own leader right before your eyes, and are toyed with by others' words. Utterly foolish, utterly laughable!" As she cursed, her anger grew, and her body continued to writhe frantically, releasing all her malevolence. Her demeanor was violent and unrestrained, exuding a strong sense of oppression that made all the surrounding subordinates' hearts tighten and their faces turn pale. They instinctively took half a step back. In stark contrast, Su Qingyao, standing beside her, keenly seized this excellent opportunity to turn the tables. She immediately suppressed all her panic, her expression gentle and composed, and smoothly spoke in a soft, conciliatory tone. Her voice was gentle, magnanimous, and understanding, devoid of any malice or anger. Instead, she spoke in defense of the subordinates, "You don't need to blame yourselves. This matter is not your fault. These imperial court custom-made restraints are bizarre and unsolvable. Ordinary people have never seen such restraints, so it is normal not to know how to break them or discern their authenticity." Night Wan, fallen to the ground, was a genuine high-ranking core member of the Demonic Cult, the mastermind behind tonight's raid, the slaughter on the ship, and the abduction of the prisoner. Previously, escorting Feng Ming Sha and Su Qing Yao, they were registered prisoners of the authorities, individuals awaiting handover. He had adhered to the rules of the escorting profession, always maintaining a proper distance, merely restraining without demeaning, controlling without abusing, and never treating them with undue harshness. But the Night Wan before him was different. She was an aggressor, an enemy who had actively attacked, slaughtered the sailors, and sabotaged the escort mission. She was not within the protection of the rules from the outset. Shen Yan Zhou was not a soft-hearted individual to begin with, and with his chest burning with unvented rage, he naturally showed no mercy to this leader of the Demonic Cult. His expression was dark and stern. He bent down, reached for his personal escort pouch, and after a moment of searching, produced a set of top-tier restraint and torture implements that had been sealed for a long time and rarely used. These were severe tools he had accumulated over years of wandering the martial world, specifically for suppressing the most vicious criminals. They were more intricate and rigorous than the silk restraints on the two women, designed to completely lock down a martial artist's combat power and ability to struggle. The main body of these implements was a specially made, tough rope woven with fine iron wire. The rope was dense and resilient, hard yet flexible. The internal fine iron wire could be shaped and locked in place, impossible to bend or break free. The outer layer was a wear-resistant, tightly wound thread that adhered closely to the skin. It was several times tougher than ordinary restraint ropes and was a deadly, inescapable restraint specifically designed to counter high-level martial artists' attempts to escape, far more domineering and unsolvable than the silk restraints on the two women. After smoothing out her silk attire, he raised his hand and grasped Night Wan's slender wrists. His fingers tightened, slowly lifting her soft arms and then forcefully twisting them behind her back. Utilizing the rigidity of the iron wire rope, he deliberately bent and twisted Night Wan's arms into an extremely bizarre W-shape. Her wrists, elbows, and shoulder joints were bent and dislocated layer by layer, all locked in unnatural positions. Even if she were to wake up later, she would absolutely be unable to reposition them herself or exert force to break free. The moment her posture was locked, Shen Yan Zhou immediately drew out the iron wire rope and began to wind it tightly from the starting point of her W-shaped bent arms behind her back. The rope coiled layer upon layer, leaving no gaps, tightly cinching her wrists, elbows, and the bent areas of her shoulders and back. He repeatedly wound and reinforced it, pinning the entire set of twisted arms to her back. The hard iron wire core firmly held the shape, permanently fixing this bizarre W-pose, rendering her completely immobile. With her arms secured, the dense binding began to cover her entire upper body. The crisscrossing ropes resembled a fine spiderweb, locking down layer by layer. The rope first climbed her slender neck, encircling and securing it horizontally, then diagonally connected to her shoulders, binding them left and right, firmly fixing the upper part of her torso and preventing any body sway or shift. The rope then extended downwards, precisely landing on her chest. He deliberately split it into two strands, one above and one below, staggered left and right, binding each full, undulating breast separately and fixing them in distinct sections. The two rope loops adhered closely to the texture of her silk clothing, tightening and pulling upwards and downwards, completely locking down the shape of her chest, binding it neatly and rigorously, leaving no room for looseness. Her chest, abdomen, and waist were further entangled layer by layer. Horizontal and vertical ropes were densely arranged, forming a crisscrossing net that tightly cinched her waist and abdominal muscles, compressing every inch of her body's movement space, rendering her waist completely unable to twist or bend, and her torso rigidly straightened and fixed. After the dense binding of her upper body was complete, Shen Yan Zhou extended the rope head downwards, precisely winding it around the area below her abdomen and crotch, locking the connection of her lower body horizontally. He then firmly pulled the rope back to her back, tying it securely to the main rope binding her arms, reinforcing the connection. The upper and lower ropes were connected end-to-end, interlocking, making the entire restraint a unified whole, forming a closed loop. Any movement would affect the entire system, making escape impossible. In just a short moment, Night Wan's entire graceful body, clad in a full black silk bodysuit, was completely enveloped by a dense spiderweb woven from iron wire ropes. Her neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, waist, crotch, and the arms on her back were all covered in crisscrossing ropes. The binding was extremely dense, the patterns neat and meticulous. Every inch of movable muscle was locked down, her body squeezed into distinct, rigid, and taut contours, leaving no room for maneuver or looseness. Even this restraint was not enough to put Shen Yan Zhou at ease. He took out a specially made high-strength solidifying glue and slowly poured it along the gaps of all the knots. The viscous, translucent glue filled every dead corner where the knots and ropes intersected, completely soaking into the texture of the ropes. The glue solidified rapidly upon contact with the air, firmly bonding and fusing all the knots and intertwined ropes. The entire set of iron wire ropes instantly became a complete, unified restraint. The knots were permanently locked, impossible to loosen or dismantle. Even brute force tearing would only tighten it further, completely eliminating any possibility of external untying or self-escape. After solidifying the rope net, Shen Yan Zhou took out a pair of completely black profound iron handcuffs. The material was heavy and hard, forged from fine steel, without any flaws. He raised his hand and grasped Night Wan's wrists, which were fixed in a W-shape behind her back. With two crisp clicks, the profound iron handcuffs precisely locked, firmly restraining her slender wrist bones within. Only a very short fine iron chain remained between the handcuffs, leaving no extra room for movement. He then pulled this short chain upwards and firmly connected it to the previously tightened profound iron collar around her neck. A set of extremely dangerous linked restraints was thus formed. If Night Wan were to wake up later, even the slightest struggle, twist, or lift of her arms would instantly tighten the chain connecting the handcuffs behind her back, directly pulling and tightening the collar around her neck, self-strangling her airway. Any movement would lead to self-strangulation, completely sealing off any thought of struggle or counterattack, preventing her from daring to make the slightest move. With her torso and linked restraints completed, Shen Yan Zhou's gaze shifted to Night Wan's hands, tightly wrapped in black silk, and he was still unwilling to stop. He poured a large amount of solidifying glue, thickly drenching her tightly clasped fingers, which were snugly fitted by the black silk, with the viscous liquid. The glue layered upon itself, completely covering the silk surface and soaking into its seams, firmly adhering to every inch of her skin and muscle. While the glue had not yet fully solidified, he reached out and pressed, forcefully clenching Night Wan's hands into tight fists, her fingers interlocked, her palms pressed flat, leaving no gaps. A moment later, the high-strength glue completely dried and hardened, directly bonding and fixing her clenched fists in place. Her flesh, bones, and silk were all fused together, making it impossible to unfurl or separate them. Her hands were completely rendered useless, devoid of all dexterity and function. The restraint was not yet over. Shen Yan Zhou took out wide black sealing tape and, starting from the tips of her fingers to her wrists, repeatedly wrapped and overlapped it around her fused, solidified fists, pressing down tightly. The tape layered upon itself, tightly locking them, completely sealing her fists within. After wrapping, he then pressed the two small hands, which had been individually sealed with tape, tightly together, and continued to wrap and stack them with black tape over a large area. Through rounds of overlapping wraps and repeated pressing and sealing, her fists were ultimately packaged into a firm, round, hard, and solidified black rubber ball, a seamless and airtight whole. The rubber ball was hard and taut, completely locking down any subtle movement of Night Wan's hands. From her fingertips to her wrist bones, everything was fixed in place. Not only could she not exert force to fight or dismantle the restraints, but she couldn't even tremble slightly or flex her fingers. Her hands had completely become useless solidified rubber balls. To completely eliminate any potential for loosening, Shen Yan Zhou took out the last set of specially made, completely black spherical cowhide covers. The leather was thick and tough, wear-resistant and tear-resistant, specifically designed as protective covers for fixed restraints. He completely inserted the hands, now wrapped into rubber balls, into the cowhide covers, ensuring a perfect fit around the entire fist-shaped rubber ball, leaving no gaps. Aligning the opening at the edge of the cover, he took out fine, tough, waterproof thread and, stitch by stitch, meticulously and completely sewed the entire opening shut, locking it closed. The stitches were tight and neat, interlocking, completely sealing off any possibility of opening. This made the cowhide covers for her hands and the internal rubber balls fuse into a single, permanently fixed, and unremovable entity. With all the functions of her upper limbs completely locked down, Shen Yan Zhou finally felt at ease. He then shifted his gaze downwards to her long, straight, black silk legs and began to completely lock down her lower body posture. He bent down and adjusted Night Wan's stiff legs, disregarding the stiffness and tension of her body, bending and straightening them bit by bit. He forcefully bent her legs into a neat and proper cross-legged sitting posture, pressing both knees symmetrically down and tucking her ankles inward. He forcibly fixed her originally straight legs into a standard cross-legged pose, completely locking her sitting posture. Once the posture was fixed, he took out a highly resilient cashmere-blended black silk iron rope. The core of the rope was hidden fine iron, capable of permanent shaping, while the outer cashmere black silk was soft, adhering, and anti-slip, locking the shape. He proceeded to wind it densely in three sections: thighs, knees, and calves, leaving no gaps. The thigh area was wrapped multiple times and bound crisscross, firmly locking the hip joint's bending angle. The knees were reinforced with particular attention, repeatedly tightened to prevent any loosening of the joint flexion. The calves were tightly wound, compressing the muscles and locking down the lower body's movement space. Not only the main muscle groups of the three leg sections, but even the subtle areas of her ankles, soles, and heels were meticulously covered by the iron rope, wrapped and enclosed from all directions without any blind spots, leaving no movable joint or muscle untouched. The entire wrapping was tight and heavy, with strong shaping capabilities. The cashmere silk adhered to her black silk skin, while the iron wire core firmly fixed the cross-legged curve, forcibly and permanently straightening and locking her legs in a cross-legged pose, making it impossible to stretch, bend, or change posture in the slightest. At this moment, Night Wan's entire body, her bones, joints, and muscles were all completely restrained and sealed layer by layer. Only the slender silk-clad toes at the front of her feet had not yet been wrapped and restrained, the only movable part of her entire body. However, her legs were forcibly locked in a proper cross-legged posture, her feet tucked inward, and her legs and feet suspended and straightened. The few slightly movable toes were suspended without support, unable to touch her body or the ground. They trembled in vain, unable to find leverage, unable to alter her fixed posture in the slightest, and unable to break free from the restraints even a fraction. They were rendered useless. Shen Yan Zhou's gaze was cold and steady, showing no sign of letting up his guard. He bent down, grasped the ends of the black silk iron ropes wrapped around her legs, gathered all the ropes, and precisely pulled and guided them. He connected the knots of her cross-legged locked legs upwards to the fixed rope bundle around her neck, tying them securely and interlocking them. As he suddenly tightened the rope with his fingers, the upper and lower linked rope bundles instantly tensed and locked. The powerful retracting force pulled Night Wan's forward-leaning cross-legged legs and stiffly straightened upper body to rapidly converge and tighten. The previously segmented torso and lower body were completely pulled into one. Her chest sank, her knees drew up, and her back contracted. Her entire person was forcibly compressed and squeezed by the rope's force, gradually forming a full, tight, and rounded human sphere. At this point, her posture was completely fixed: her upper body was densely locked by the spiderweb-like crisscrossing ropes, her W-shaped bent arms were rigidly folded behind her, her profound iron handcuffs and neck collar were linked and self-locking, and any movement would cause self-strangulation of her neck. Her lower body's legs were permanently fixed in a cross-legged position, firmly bound to her torso by the vertically connected rope knots, connected end-to-end and interlocking. Her entire body had no possibility of being separated or stretched, completely forming a single, integrated restraint sphere.