The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 5

Wang Meng sighed inwardly.

Without sufficient financial support, it's simply a pipe dream to cultivate true masters.

He touched his still somewhat shrunken belly.

If you want to trample that vicious mother and daughter under your feet, if you want to become the true master of Mantuo Manor, if you want to live a comfortable life in this world... you have to fill your own stomach first.

Wang Meng glanced once more at the darkening sky outside the window.

The last rays of the setting sun had faded, leaving only a faint orange-red hue on the horizon, and the lights in the villa began to come on one by one.

"Time to go 'hunt for food'."

Wang Meng chuckled self-deprecatingly, leaped off the hard bed, and stretched his limbs. For the past three days, he had been sneaking into the kitchen under the cover of night to "scavenge" the leftovers from the day's meals.

These fish, shrimp, meat, and vegetables are unlike the ingredients he ate in his previous life, which were polluted by the industrial era and full of hormones and additives. Every single one of them is pure, natural, pollution-free, fresh, and delicious.

Even the simplest cooking method, just a sprinkle of salt, is enough to make it incredibly delicious. You don't even need to add MSG; the natural sweetness of the ingredients is enough to make your mouth water.

Zhao Song glanced at Wang Meng, who was about to push open the door to leave, then yawned, turned over, and fell into a deep sleep.

The servant's quarters where he lived were located in the most remote and inconspicuous corner of Manteau Manor.

The villa's kitchen is located in the central area of ​​the entire estate, close to the inner courtyard where the owners live.

This means that every time Wang Meng goes to the kitchen, he has to cross almost half of Mantuo Villa without making a sound.

The layout of Mantuo Villa appears elegant and exquisite, but it actually hides a secret.

From his secluded corner of residence to the back kitchen, one must pass through at least three large gardens planted with different flowers.

The air is filled with a delicate fragrance, but the path is winding and the interplay of light and shadow among the artificial hills and stacked rocks makes it easy to get lost. The path is even more complicated, with more forks in the road. Many places that seem to be exits often lead to dead ends or back to where they started.

These gardens were intentionally designed as a maze to prevent outsiders or servants from wandering around at will.

In any garden, datura flowers are often planted, intentionally or unintentionally, sparsely or densely, among the main flowers.

These datura flowers appear ordinary during the day, not much different from other flowers, and some are not even fully bloomed, looking somewhat wilted.

But as night falls, they unfurl their enchanting petals, some snow-white, some pale purple, like delicate wine glasses hanging upside down, exuding a strange, sweet fragrance with a hint of numbing sensation under the hazy moonlight.

This fragrance is the "poison" of the datura flower.

If too much is inhaled, one will gradually lose consciousness and experience all sorts of bizarre and surreal hallucinations.

But for those who are interested, the method to crack this psychedelic scent is actually quite simple, and even somewhat...refined.

As Wang Meng passed through the peony garden, he casually plucked a relatively intact flower from a peony that had already passed its peak bloom and whose petals were slightly withered at the edges.

He casually picked up the purplish-red peony and gently hung it on the collar of his coarse cloth shirt.

Peony, the king of flowers, has a noble and elegant fragrance that is pure and rich. It has a certain restraining and dispelling effect on the effeminate and mysterious intoxicating fragrance of datura.

This is also a method often used by the servants in the manor to block out the fragrance of datura flowers.

Of course, this is only a temporary solution; if one stays among datura flowers for a long time, the fragrance of a single peony flower alone will have limited effect.

Wang Meng moved swiftly yet silently, like a lone wolf roaming the night, weaving through the intricate garden paths.

Manor has rules: during the day, servants can walk around most areas of the manor to do their work, as long as they don't offend the master or the stewards and maids of high status.

But at night, especially after dark, all servants were no longer allowed to walk freely in the manor.

If caught by the female guards on night patrol, the consequences would be quite dire.

At best, they would be severely beaten; at worst, their hands and feet would be broken, or they would even be used as fertilizer. There are precedents for this.

Wang Meng naturally didn't want to risk this trouble. His goal was always clear: to get something to eat from the kitchen and fill his stomach.

Holding my breath and minimizing my movements, I relied on my familiarity with the path to pass through the fragrant orchid garden without incident, while avoiding several dark corners of the artificial hills where night patrols might be lurking.

Just as he could vaguely see the dim yellow light coming from the direction of the kitchen, a faint, melancholic, and desolate melody suddenly drifted over on the wind.

"Ok?"

Wang Meng suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching like radar, trying to discern the source and direction of the sudden piano music from the various subtle sounds brought by the night wind.

Wang Meng's gaze slowly pierced through the gaps in the layers of flowers and branches in front of him, looking towards the direction from which the sound of the zither came.

He was currently on the edge of that vast peony garden.

He passed by here many times during the day while he was working.

He clearly remembered that the terrain here was slightly lower, and hidden behind a grove of green bamboo and artificial hills, there was a small open-air hot spring pool.

Beside the hot spring pool, there is a small and exquisite pavilion with upturned eaves, carved beams and painted rafters, which looks quite elegant.

I overheard the gossipy old women in the kitchen mentioning that the hot spring pool and pavilion were usually reserved for the women of the resort, especially for distinguished female guests who occasionally came to visit.

However, the old women also said that Mantuo Manor hadn't had any proper "guests" for a long time.

This place has been idle for some time.

"Who could be playing the piano here so late?"

Wang Meng was filled with doubt.

Is it Li Qingluo, that capricious and vicious "Madam Wang"?

Is she still the same Wang Yuyan, beautiful as an angel, yet equally cold as ice?

Wang Meng hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved closer.

He wasn't looking for trouble, but if he wanted to get to the kitchen, he had to go through the path next to the pavilion. Otherwise, he would have to cross through the flower bushes, which would inevitably make a lot of noise.

"Let's go take a look. If it's really not good, then forget it. It's not like we'll miss out on this meal."

Having made up his mind, Wang Meng no longer hesitated.

He channeled his energy into his feet, and the inner force of the Holy Fire gently enveloped his soles like a thin layer of silk. His steps were light and almost silent, quieter than the most nimble cat.

Like a shadow completely blending into the darkness, or a night breeze silently weaving through the flowers.

After this period of diligent study and the blessing of "limitless energy," Wang Meng has only just begun to grasp the profound mysteries of the superior martial art "Mingzun Sacred Fire Skill," and his mastery of the techniques and incantations is far from being perfect.

However, because of his boundless energy, he was constantly cultivating.

Even while doing hard labor during the day, one is still circulating internal energy, multitasking in three or even four areas at once.

Therefore, their mastery of internal energy has gradually increased.

Simply using internal force to envelop the soles of his feet, eliminating the vibration and friction of his footsteps, and making his landing silent, is something he can do effortlessly.

As the distance closed, in addition to the increasingly clear sound of the zither, a rich aroma of wine, with a hint of sweetness and spiciness, wafted from the direction of the pavilion. It mingled with the exotic fragrance of datura flowers, the delicate scent of peonies, and the damp smell of the hot spring steam in the night breeze, creating a complex and intoxicating atmosphere.

Wang Meng's figure finally stopped behind a clump of dense phoenix-tail bamboo. It was only a few feet away from the pavilion, enough for him to see everything inside clearly without worrying about being easily exposed.

It was completely dark.

Under the bright and cool moonlight, in the pavilion, a woman with a graceful figure sat with her back to him, facing the direction of the hot spring pool, in front of a low table, her slender hands gently stroking the guqin in front of her.

She wore only a thin, white gauze, almost transparent in the moonlight, its hazy glow revealing glimpses of her mature, voluptuous, and alluring body, sparking the imagination.

Her jet-black hair cascaded down like an ink waterfall, with a few strands playfully brushing against her jade-like neck and fragrant shoulders, adding a touch of languid charm.

Several wine jugs were scattered haphazardly beside her slender hands as she played the zither.

Some of them had already overturned and fallen to the ground, with a little residual wine still flowing from the spout, wetting a small patch of the bluestone floor inside the pavilion.

Some were completely empty, clearly the wine inside had long been drunk. The strong smell of alcohol emanated from these wine jugs and from her.

Through the almost non-existent light gauze, Wang Meng could clearly see that on her two snow-white, full breasts that rose and fell slightly with her breath, two rosy nipples stood erect like cherries just beginning to bloom after the rain, their delicate pink hue under the cool moonlight making one's heart race.

What made Wang Meng's breath catch in his throat even more was...

On those two slightly trembling, snow-white breasts, one could vaguely see some dark, irregular wet marks.

Some of the damp marks were already half-dry, leaving faint imprints, while others were still glistening and sparkling, as if they had just been applied.

It was unclear whether it was wine she had accidentally spilled while drinking, or... or sweet, maternal milk that had naturally overflowed from there... This ambiguous scene, under the influence of moonlight and the aroma of wine, exuded an extreme, blood-pumping allure.

The woman's movements appeared somewhat languid and slow, and her fingering on the zither was also somewhat careless and even chaotic, clearly indicating that she was deeply intoxicated.

The music was intermittent and melodyless, filled with the indulgence and decadence of drunkenness.

She would occasionally stop what she was doing, and with her free hand, her nails painted with red nail polish, she would pick up the nearest wine jug with a slight sway. Without using a wine cup, she would directly drink from the spout, tilt her snow-white, gracefully curved neck back, and gulp down several mouthfuls of strong liquor.

A few drops of spicy liquor spilled from the corner of her mouth, slid down her smooth chin, and disappeared into the depths of the thin veil, adding new marks to the area that was already covered in the fabric on her chest.

She seemed completely unconcerned, simply exhaling a breath reeking of alcohol, then, with a slightly dazed and alluring look in her eyes, continued plucking the strings, producing off-key yet strangely seductive sounds.

Wang Meng's eyes were practically spitting fire!

He recognized at a glance the woman who was drunk and playing the zither under the moon, her clothes disheveled and her manner seductive. She was none other than the mistress of this Mantuo Villa, the "Madam Wang"—Li Qingluo, who had ordered him to be severely beaten with twenty strokes of the cane because he had glanced at her when he first arrived!

At this moment, Li Qingluo was nowhere to be seen as the arrogant, domineering, and icy person she usually was.

After getting drunk, she seemed to shed all pretense, revealing without reservation the loneliness and charm that had been suppressed within her as an adult under the deserted moonlit night.

That languid demeanor, that dreamy gaze, that voluptuous body, faintly visible beneath the thin veil and exuding the allure of ripe fruit—all stirred the most primal desires within Wang Meng's heart.

"liquor!"

"liquor!"

Li Qingluo suddenly screamed, her voice hoarse and carrying a hint of willful arrogance.

She seemed to be truly drunk; her playing of the zither had long since stopped, and she was now swaying as she tried to stand up from behind the low table, seemingly to reach for the wine jugs scattered a little further away.

However, the alcohol had already numbed her limbs and made her once graceful figure clumsy and awkward.

She could barely prop herself up, but her legs felt as heavy as lead. She stumbled and lost her balance, letting out a soft cry as her body fell uncontrollably onto the cool, smooth bluestone floor of the pavilion.

A soft "plop" sounded particularly clear in the quiet night.

As she fell to the ground, the loosely draped, gossamer-thin white gauze dress, already clinging to her body, slowly and alluringly unfurled to the sides, as if freed from its final restraint. In that instant, her mature and voluptuous figure, already partially concealed in the moonlight, was now completely exposed to Wang Meng's eyes, which gleamed with an unusual light.

Large swathes of her snow-white, delicate skin gleamed with an ivory-like, warm, and captivating luster under the cool moonlight, resembling the finest mutton-fat jade, exuding an intoxicating fragrance.

The two snow-white, full mounds, already breathtakingly outlined by the sheer fabric, were now completely freed from their constraints. Because of her supine position, those astonishing mounds, like two perfectly fermented, soft doughs, spread out slightly to the sides, covering a large portion of her chest and appearing even more voluptuous.

However, despite being spread out like this, the two mounds of snow showed no sign of sagging, maintaining their amazing elasticity and perfect curves. The two rosy buds at the top, stimulated by the alcohol and gently caressed by the night breeze, appeared even more delicate and tempting, as firm as ripe cherries, exuding a deadly allure.

Li Qingluo seemed unaware that she was exposing herself, or perhaps, in her drunken state, she no longer cared about such things.

She lay sprawled on the cold ground, still mumbling incoherently, "Wine...where's my wine...bring me wine quickly..." Her voice carried a hint of drunken naivety and willfulness, but the surroundings were completely silent. No maids came forward to offer her wine, nor did anyone help her or straighten her disheveled clothes.