MM Racing Page 148
Page 148
The moment she lost her support, Zhao Min felt as if all of her energy had been drained away. She collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted, without even the strength to move a finger.
However, the feeling of emptiness lasted only a moment.
Immediately afterwards, an even more terrifying and disgusting feeling came clearly from the deepest part of her body.
The hot, pungent, and unknown liquid that had been forcibly injected into her body did not disappear with his departure.
It remained there, deep within her intestines, like a living, foreign object that didn't belong to her body.
At first, it was just a warm, heavy pool.
But with her weak breaths, forced upon her by pain and exhaustion, and with the slightest tremor of her body, the pool of liquid began to flow.
She could feel it.
The biting cold on one side made her tremble all over.
On the other hand, the aggressive warmth emanating from her enemy's body made her feel as if she were a vessel being simultaneously eroded by two toxins.
"Uh……"
An overwhelming feeling of nausea rose in her throat, and her lower abdomen began to spasm uncontrollably.
Her body, her gut, was protesting in the most primal way.
They tried to expel this filthy, foreign thing.
She could feel her ravaged back muscles contracting in vain, wave after wave. But the contractions were so weak that they not only failed to expel anything, but were like squeezing a water-filled sac, making the liquid slosh around inside her even more violently, amplifying the feeling of humiliation a thousand times, ten thousand times!
A small stream of white, viscous liquid finally flowed down her inner thighs uncontrollably, leaving a humiliating and lewd mark on the disheveled sheets beneath her.
Zhao Min's eyes were wide open, her pupils unfocused, filled only with boundless emptiness and despair.
The fluid that keeps flowing inside her body is the evidence.
It is evidence of her defeat, the most shameful evidence that she was completely conquered by a man like a bitch.
Overwhelming hatred and extreme humiliation, like the most potent poison, instantly overwhelmed her mind.
She could no longer hold on, her head lolled to the side, and she completely lost consciousness.
Wang Meng was on top of Zhao Min with great force, his chest heaving violently.
Each breath felt like pulling a broken bellows, spewing out scorching white steam.
He kept his head down, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his angular chin, splashing onto Zhao Min's smooth, jade-like back, creating tiny, filthy droplets.
That devastating outburst, like a flood bursting its banks, temporarily washed away the wicked fire that threatened to burn him to ashes.
However, the cost is also enormous.
After experiencing the burning of the "Clear and Melancholy Wind," the freezing of the Xuanming Divine Palm, and the reckless, extreme burst of energy just now, the true energy within his body had become a complete mess.
Countless tiny, violent streams of air, like wild horses, surged and crashed wildly through his meridians.
Some remained as hot as lava, while others were as cold as ice.
They chased and devoured each other, and each collision felt like a heavy blow to his internal organs, bringing sharp, stabbing pain.
His dantian was empty, yet it seemed to be about to explode due to the chaotic energy of the extremes of ice and fire.
As the tide slowly receded, a sliver of clarity, like a bubble struggling to rise from the dark depths of the sea, finally returned to Wang Meng's mind.
The room was a mess.
Torn clothes, overturned teaware, and the shocking sight of filth mixed with dirt on the large wooden bed.
The air was thick with a nauseating odor—the smell of blood, the saltiness of sweat, and the strong, pungent smell that represented the most primal act of intercourse.
His gaze slowly fell upon the motionless body beneath him.
She just lay there, like a most exquisite doll that had been played with and ruined.
Her long, black hair was disheveled and soaked with sweat and tears, clinging messily to her cheeks and snow-white neck.
On her once pert and round buttocks, there remained bluish-purple marks left by his fingers.
Between those two snowy buttocks, the backside, ravaged and swollen from his rough handling, was slightly open, like a silent mouth making a accusation.
Strands of murky, white liquid were slowly overflowing from it, meandering down the inside of her long, slender thighs, leaving an even more humiliating and glaring mark next to the dark red bloodstains.
Wang Meng's Adam's apple bobbed, and the madness and tyranny in his eyes were gone, replaced by an extremely complex and chilling scrutiny.
He wasn't regretting it, nor was he feeling guilty.
He was making an assessment.
Evaluate his "work," assess how much value remains of the enemy he has utterly destroyed.
Antidote.
The thought clearly surfaced in his mind.
The chaotic energy of ice and fire within his body was still raging.
Although I know that nothing is wrong anymore.
But that tingling sensation remained in my body.
And this antidote, probably only the little princess he had rendered unconscious knows its whereabouts.
He slowly got off her, and with each movement, his bones seemed to groan as if they were about to burst from the unbearable weight.
His spear, which had been as ferocious as a beast not long ago, was now limp, covered in blood and bodily fluids, and hung limply.
He walked to the bedside and reached out to touch Zhao Min's neck.
Where my fingertips touched, it was icy cold, and my pulse was so weak I could barely feel it.
Wang Meng's brows furrowed suddenly.
He then remembered the domineering palm strikes of those two old men earlier!
He turned her over so that Zhao Min was facing up.
Zhao Min's face was ashen, her lips were purple, her eyes were closed, and there were still traces of tears in the corners of her eyes. Her once heroic face was now shrouded in a visible, ominous black aura, in addition to the red marks left by his spear.
Damn!
Wang Meng cursed under his breath.
He never expected that his greatest enemy would not be the scheming Mongolian princess, but the two Xuanming Elders who should have been her right-hand men.
If Zhao Min were to die from the cold poison of the Xuanming Divine Palm...
That would completely ruin everything!
He has no choice.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging blood and qi within him, and extended his right hand, gathering the last remaining and purest trace of internal energy in his body. He then placed his index and middle fingers together on the "Shanzhong" acupoint on Zhao Min's chest.
A powerful and scorching surge of true energy slowly flowed into Zhao Min's body.
In Wang Meng's perception, Zhao Min's meridians were already in complete disarray.
A chilling, destructive aura of Xuanming True Qi, like icy venomous snakes, coiled around the vital points of her heart meridian, constantly eroding her life force.
If it weren't for her own strong internal strength and the fact that her invulnerable soft armor had absorbed most of the force, she would probably have died on the spot.
Even so, she was already on the verge of exhaustion.
Wang Meng's true energy, already excessively yang due to the "Clear and Melancholy Wind," unexpectedly had a restraining effect when it entered Zhao Min's meridians, which were invaded by cold poison.
That scorching heat, like the warm sun of early spring, caused the lingering cold poison to recede slightly wherever it passed.
There is a door!
Wang Meng's spirits lifted.
But this excitement didn't last long.
He soon discovered that things were far more complicated than he had imagined.
His domineering pure yang energy was like a glacier under the blazing sun.
Although it can melt the surface ice, it is powerless against the Xuanming Cold Poison that has been hidden deep in the core of the glacier for thousands of years.
Every bit of his true energy that entered was violently devoured and worn away by that extremely cold and yin toxin.
Zhao Min's meridians were already extremely fragile due to her severe injuries, and they simply couldn't withstand this kind of torment, like gods fighting.
He could feel his available true energy being rapidly depleted, while the cold poison in Zhao Min's heart meridian, after initially dissipating, cunningly contracted into a ball, coiling in the deepest part, like a hibernating venomous snake, remaining unmoved no matter how he attacked it.
If this continues, before he can exhaust his true energy, Zhao Min will be the first to have her heart meridian shattered by the violent clash of true energy.
"Damn it!"
Wang Meng cursed under his breath, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
He could feel the "clear and melancholic wind" within him stirring again after it was no longer suppressed.
Time was running out, and he had to come up with a solution, a solution that could solve the problem once and for all!
Pushing, sending, transferring... these conventional healing techniques all involve transferring energy from one side to another.
Since it can't be "sent" in, what about... "sucking" it out?
A crazy, even heretical, idea suddenly flashed through Wang Meng's mind like a bolt of lightning in the night!
The core of these evil martial arts techniques in the martial arts world, such as the Northern Darkness Divine Skill and the Star Absorbing Technique, is the word "absorb".
Forcibly absorbing the internal energy of others for one's own use.
The cold poison of the Xuanming Divine Palm is essentially a kind of energy, an extremely yin and cold energy.
If only it could be extracted from Zhao Min's body... but where could it be extracted to?
Directly inhale into your own dantian?
That would be tantamount to playing with fire; the combined forces of ice and fire within him would instantly blast him to pieces.
Wang Meng's gaze unconsciously shifted to his lower body.
There, his spear, which had just calmed down.
Because of the renewed surge of internal heat, it began to rise slowly and uncontrollably again.
It is the root and core of the "Qingsu Beifeng" type of extremely yang evil fire, and it is the place where the yang energy of one's whole body is most concentrated and most vigorous.