The Village Beauty 216, Main Text 216 Voices Within the Body 216 Voices Within the Body (Eightth Hour) Before the fool Zhang had finished speaking, Ling Xiaoman suddenly became alert, broke free from Lu Yun's embrace, and stared at him expressionlessly. "I'll go along with it," she said, "but you must promise me—after it's over, you'll let Lu Yun go. This content consists of the textual material from Chapter 216 of The Village Beauty 216." Fool Zhang grinned. "Hey, you're quite interesting, aren't you? When I first wanted to take you, you fought me fiercely, even kicked me in the leg. Now you're willingly accepting Lu Yun—truly a mere beauty who judges only by appearance. Fine, I promise you. As long as Lu Yun agrees to take you, after the act is done, I'll be the first to let you go." Ling Xiaoman nodded silently, raising her hand to remove her only bra and panties. Lu Yun suddenly stood up, enduring the pain of his bones cracking, and stepped in to stop her. "Ling Teacher," he said, "how can you How could you possibly believe what he says? Think about what he's done—even if we fulfill all his demands, how could we be sure he'll let us go? Ling Xiaoman remained expressionless, her voice as cold and detached as a block of Arctic ice: "I have to at least try. Even if he doesn't spare us, I don't want to see my first and only time—my very first experience—taken from me by some mere beast. Otherwise, I won't be at peace, not even in death." Lu Yun was stunned. He realized she must have concluded we were destined to stay trapped, which is why she had willingly agreed to be with him. Yet, at this moment, things hadn't reached that point yet. He still had a vegetable knife tucked behind his back—his lifeline—though relying on it to escape from the jaws of danger seemed nearly impossible. Still, Lu Yun never gave up without a fight. Even if it meant dying, he would fully unleash every last ounce of strength and energy, leaving no trace of regret. Zhang, the fool, watched Lu Yun with a blank expression, chuckling, "Lu's young heir, you'd better hide all your tricks and schemes around me—otherwise, I'll have to slaughter one of you first and then slowly torture the other. Hurry up! My patience is running out!" With a swift flick of the killing blade, he snapped the strap of Ling Xiaoman's bra, and instantly the high, rounded bust, freed from its confines, swayed and wobbled out, its pink, milky texture glistening with fresh droplets. "Damn it, fool Zhang!" Lu Yun burst out in rage, but halfway through his outburst, Zhang kicked him squarely in the chest. Before Lu Yun could react, Zhang drove a straight kick that sent him flying four or five meters, crashing against the cave wall with a soft thud and rolling to a halt as if lifeless—motionless, lying there. "Stop hitting him!" Ling Xiaoman glared at Zhang, rushing over to check whether Lu Yun was hurt. Lu Yun took two kicks and couldn't draw a single breath, collapsing onto the ground almost unconscious. He silently cursed the fool—how had this guy learned such skills? One kick to the chest, right at his own heart, had nearly sent him straight to the afterlife, and the second kick sent him flying—how could someone so small possibly kick himself off the ground? Truly bizarre. Yet, having witnessed the extraordinary feats of Li Huashan and the others, he now had a certain level of acceptance for the unusual. Still, why were all these elite fighters ending up facing him, Lu Yun? Most annoying of all, the blade tucked behind his waist, pressing against the wall, had sliced into his buttocks, causing him sharp, unbearable pain. Yet, at this very moment, even if the blade had cut off half of his backside, Lu Yun wouldn't have flinched. "Lu Yun, Lu Yun—how are you feeling?" Ling Xiaoman struggled to turn Lu Yun over, her eyes fixed on the dark, swollen cheeks of his face. Tears welled up and fell gently, landing on his face, creating tiny droplets. "Master Ling, I've always been like a stone in a latrine—smelly, hard, and stubborn. Zhang, the fool, has been treating me like a lamb, and I don't think he'll ever be able to do it again." Lu Yun comforted Ling Xiaoman, yet he was secretly puzzled: when he had fought against Zhou Gao and during the incident in the women's dormitory, he had clearly felt his body undergo noticeable changes. Then, both in terms of mindset and the precision, speed, and angle of his movements, he had seemed like an extraordinary martial arts master. But now, what was going on? Being so thoroughly beaten by this fool Zhang, his internal energy seemed completely unresponsive. Could it be that this very energy was timid, afraid of the strong, and knowing it couldn't overcome Zhang, had quietly retreated, hiding like a turtle with its head tucked in? "Lin Xiaoman said, 'Lu Yun, I've already explained this before. I don't want my first to be taken away by some mere beast. Though you are my student, things have changed now—what matters is that he promised to spare you. Even if it's just a lie, he still has to try. It's just that I've been making you suffer.' 'Not at all,' Lu Yun said as soon as he spoke, immediately realizing he'd made a mistake and quickly correcting himself. 'Lin Teacher, I didn't mean to say that. I'm just saying that we're doing fine right now. Since everything's settled for now, we might as well hold on a little longer. Who knows—there might still be a turn of events.' Inside Lu Yun, that voice resumed its sound, only this time it turned into a loud scolding: 'You fool, you idiot! This girl is a perfect nourishing ingredient—taking her first time will be far more beneficial to me than the help I've received from a hundred and ten of your wives. Get on her now and ride her properly!' "Do you really want me to just show off some empty, theatrical flair every time we're in danger?" Ling Xiaoman sighed. "What else is there to hope for? Even if we fight him to the end, it's just suicide. He's set his conditions—we simply have to follow them. As long as you don't think of our teacher as a mere woman of low status, everything else can be settled once we've done the work." Lu Yun was half-supported, half-held by Ling Xiaoman, her left breast brushing gently against his chest—like a dragonfly's touch—brief yet intensely passionate. Zhang, the simple-minded man, stood at a distance, watching the two with cold detachment, growing increasingly impatient. "Have you reached an agreement yet? My patience is completely worn out." "I'll die with your mother. Seeing you, this guy can't even stand—it's like I'm going to throw up. How could your mother have given birth to someone so short and awkward? According to me, she must've been paired off with some old, backward dog, and that's how she ended up producing someone so short, so dim-witted, so much like a ghost or a beast—something truly ridiculous. Fine, let's die. But I just want to drive the real fool, Zhang Zhen, completely mad. Then, when he's completely out of it, I'll grab my knife and slice off his manhood right there. My words have been absolutely vicious—targeting his weakest points, hammering them until he's done.