Experience shapes one's growth, whether in a positive or negative direction, always leading toward maturity. Wang Zhuo never professed to be a good man, nor a gentleman; he believed that whatever one did, as long as one’s conscience was clear, that was sufficient.

As for the shackles of morality, I ask those who set the moral standards: did you seek my consent? Thus, Wang Zhuo’s life credo consisted of only five words: “Mind your own business.” If he believed something was right, he would act; if he thought it wrong, he would think twice before proceeding.

In traditional thought, the stain of a bad reputation, especially for a woman, was considered a heinous, shameless, and base matter. Countless stories have interpreted this, instilling the notion that even if a woman deserves a death sentence, she should meet death with her virtue intact, rather than suffer the dishonor of a ruined reputation.

Wang Zhuo’s understanding of this was not profound, yet he firmly believed one point: beautiful women always enjoy some measure of privilege, however small. Therefore, if one were willing to trade her allure to atone for past mistakes, it was an acceptable exchange.

Put plainly, he still acknowledged the importance of reputation, viewing this act as a subtle form of punishment. Although, in the moral climate of the present age, this punishment felt somewhat lenient, he still benefited, didn't he?

That was his thought process. It was surely better than sentencing her to a few years in prison—that would only vent anger but yield no tangible benefit!

Yang Ruke was unaware of Wang Zhuo’s subtle machinations, but if she knew, after some deliberation, she would likely accept his point of view. For a woman like her, the significance of freedom was painfully clear.

If convicted as an accomplice to attempted murder, the remainder of her youth would be spent behind bars! Unfortunately, she did not know Wang Zhuo’s thoughts now, and thus felt no gratitude.

She could only submit to his will with humiliation, inwardly cursing the scoundrel Liu Jieming. The orange vest was tossed into a corner of the sofa, the plaid shirt hung open at his waist, a brassiere strap dangled from one arm, the pencil skirt was pushed up to her waist from below, and the silk-like thermal leggings were pulled to her knees, leaving her cloud-like, full hips completely exposed to the warm air.

Yang Ru bent at the waist, supporting herself with one hand on the coffee table, twisting her hot, flushed face away from Wang Zhuo. Those warm, large hands were brazenly playing with both her breasts and hips, while the man occasionally uttered flirtatious and suggestive remarks, rendering her utterly mortified.

“Do you know why I took an interest in you?” he asked cheerfully again. Yang Ru desperately wanted to roll her eyes and ask him to stop speaking nonsense, get on with whatever he needed to do, and finish it quickly.

But she had witnessed Wang Zhuo’s power multiple times and knew that provoking him at this moment would lead to nothing pleasant. “Why?” she asked, striving for a neutral tone.

Deep down, she found Wang Zhuo’s behavior somewhat perverse, yet there was one thing she would never admit: the fact that her beauty attracted him enough to make him yield on her behalf was something she could secretly be proud of. Wasn’t it?

This man was surrounded by stunning women, hardly sparing a second glance for a pair of perfect twins offered right to him, yet she managed to capture his attention! Wang Zhuo pulled her thermal pants down further and chuckled, “You must have watched the Calabash Brothers cartoon, right?

Has anyone ever told you that you look remarkably like the Snake Spirit in it?” “Mhm.” Yang Ru offered little more than a soft affirmation. “As a child, I always wondered why such a beautiful Snake Spirit ended up with that Scorpion King.

If I were one of the Calabash Brothers, I would have eliminated the Scorpion long ago and taken the Snake Spirit as my lady commander.” Yang Ru twitched the corner of her mouth; the joke wasn't funny. Wang Zhuo leisurely massaged her nipples, continuing, “Unfortunately, the cartoon’s story is fictional, so I never got to meet the Snake Spirit, leaving only regret.

But then I saw you. At that moment, I thought, is Heaven favoring me, sending me a real-life Snake Spirit so I can avenge the little Calabash Brothers?” “Slap.” He suddenly lightly patted her flesh, causing her hips to ripple instantly, and Yang Ru instinctively arched her back.

“The feel is excellent,” he said proudly, kneading her softly. He commanded, “The pants are in the way; take them off.” Yang Ru had no choice but to reluctantly remove her trousers, feeling utterly miserable.

When had the young mistress of the Yang family ever been ordered around by a man like this? Her heart hammered uncontrollably, her emotions heightened, teetering on the edge of explosion.

“Truly beautiful… Perhaps I should take a few photos, just as a memento?” Admiring her seductive movements, Wang Zhuo teased. Seeing her movement freeze, Wang Zhuo laughed heartily, “You don’t have to worry about it; I was just saying.” Having shed her boots and trousers, Yang Ru was about to remove her top when Wang Zhuo caught her arm: “This is sufficient.

Turn around so I can admire you.” So many annoying habits! Yang Ru turned around with an air of exasperation.

Adopting a broken-pot mentality, she defiantly stuck out her chest, tilting her chin high, challenging him, “Well, Lord Wang, are you satisfied?” “Satisfied, extremely satisfied,” Wang Zhuo praised repeatedly. “Exactly like the Snake Spirit in my dreams—erfe!” Yang Ru snorted softly; she knew her own figure well.

Wang Zhuo calling it “perfect” wasn't an exaggeration. If not for her status as a young lady, with this figure, she could absolutely become a famous lingerie model.

“Sit down,” Wang Zhuo patted the sofa beside him and stood up, pulling the bottom of his shirt out from inside his trousers. Seeing that he was about to undress, Yang Ru quickly said, “Why don’t you take a shower first?” “What, you think I’m dirty?” Wang Zhuo paused his movement.

“How would I dare?” Yang Ru gave a self-mocking, bitter smile. “Then why the extra words?” Wang Zhuo couldn’t resist needling her again, which indeed earned him a sharp glare.

Wang Zhuo then chuckled, “This atmosphere isn’t fun; nobody is happy. How about we just build up the mood first?” He gently lifted Yang Ru’s chin to meet his gaze.

Yang Ru was quickly flustered under his stare, dodging his eyes as her cheeks flushed an undeniable crimson. The two stood and sat respectively.

Yang Ru kept her two legs, like jade pillars, pressed together; where her thighs met her flat abdomen, a mischievous wisp of shiny, curly greenery peeked out. Her waist was long and straight, her full breasts like two inverted jade bowls, topped by two scarlet points resembling red beans.

Her collarbone line was soft, her neck slender and straight, her jaw pointed like an awl, her nose curved like a hawk’s beak, and her eyes slanted upward—truly like a submissive beauty snake. Having tasted the appetizer, Wang Zhuo wasted no more time, rapidly unbuttoning his shirt one by one.

Yang Ru turned her face away, not watching him, her thoughts unknown. “Tsssk…” The automatic buckle of the leather belt released a fine series of clicks.

Yang Ru glanced secretly, then quickly withdrew her gaze. Wang Zhuo smiled silently; regardless of the circumstances, this beauty still harbored a sliver of curiosity.

“Turn around and look,” he said softly as he stepped out of his trousers. Yang Ru turned back, stunned.

What a large package. Even through the layer of underwear, it looked incredibly imposing!

... When one anticipates something, time often drags agonizingly.

The sisters waited and waited, but neither sound nor summons came. They sat on the grand bed in the master bedroom, staring blankly at the dull programs flickering on the television.

Whether twins share a telepathic connection remains scientifically undecided, but one thing is certain: sisters who grow up inseparable since childhood know each other intimately, often understanding what the other is thinking with just a glance or a gesture. “Do you think he’ll accept us?” Yan Yan asked softly.

Yingying shrugged, “He definitely will. Don't you have that much faith?” Yan Yan nodded.

In truth, their thought processes were identical; asking Yingying was like asking herself, and the answer she received was their shared conclusion. “I think so too.

But he’s so dominant; Sister Yang has no way to deal with him.” “He’s amazing; I think I’ll fall in love with him,” Yingying said with a look of longing. Yan Yan smiled, “Yes, we’re really lucky this time.

I can already hear happiness knocking at the door.” The two daydreamed about the future in the room, feeling as if one foot was already stepping into high society. Miss Yang was already an extraordinary status, yet here she was, having to be meek before her future man.

Moreover, Miss Yang had mentioned on the way over that this man might become the richest man in China in the near future—this was truly fate smiling upon them; she was about to become one of the elite! But what they never imagined was that, in reality, Wang Zhuo had long forgotten about them, fully immersed in pleasure, every pore of his body alight as he enjoyed the exquisite service of the Snake Spirit!

Humans are like this: when something must be done, they naturally find a reasonable excuse. Wang Zhuo’s X-ray vision could not only penetrate all matter but also perceive the human heart.

Thus, when he shamelessly demanded Yang Ru ‘wrap him up,’ and she staunchly refused, he immediately provided the pretext. What’s wrong, beautiful lady?

If you don’t let me have my fill, be careful I go back on my promise, and then I’ll have taken you for free without giving you satisfaction... And so, Yang Ru unwillingly relaxed her jaw, her cherry-like mouth invaded and filled by his massive presence.

The rich, masculine scent bewildered her mind, and she finally submitted to Wang Zhuo’s desire. Yang Ru’s mouth was truly small, and her lips and cheeks were thin.

Her tongue was petite and supple but clumsy and hesitant, lacking any skill. There was no need to ask; Wang Zhuo knew this was her first time doing such a thing.

However, he presumed she would never admit it, because admitting it would mean Wang Zhuo had conquered her ‘first time’ in this regard, and she would rather debase herself to perform this act than let Wang Zhuo become more smug about it. Wang Zhuo stood in the center of the suite’s living room, one hand on his hip, the other resting on the silken ‘spy cap’ placed on Yang Ru’s head, as he guided her technique while praising her progress.

He hadn't felt it as strongly when he similarly manipulated Qu Jingyou last time, but now he had a complete epiphany: making a high-and-mighty woman lower her proud head was not achieved through ‘union,’ but by doing this!