socalfunplaces Page 36
Page 36
He can die, he can be injured, but he absolutely cannot accept being bedwet like a three-year-old child!
This is not just a matter of face, but also a matter of the dignity of a future hegemon!
Moreover, he didn't want to sleep in that damp, smelly "swamp".
Dignity triumphed over excruciating pain.
After hesitating for a long time, Wang Meng finally made up his mind.
He braced his elbows on the bed, trying to use the strength of his arms to lift his upper body.
"Ugh—!"
The moment the action began, an indescribable, excruciating pain exploded in his chest, as if a red-hot iron was being violently churned within him, causing his internal organs to shift out of place.
He was in so much pain that his vision went black, and he almost fainted again.
Inch by inch.
The only sounds in the room were his heavy, rough breathing and the teeth-grinding creaking of his bones from excessive exertion.
Finally, after a struggle that felt like an eternity, he managed to prop himself up on the headboard, his upper body as heavy as a mountain.
This single movement almost exhausted all his strength.
He leaned there, panting heavily, his chest heaving, each breath a sharp, stabbing pain. The world spun before him, and he saw stars.
But the increasingly surging torrent in his lower abdomen was relentlessly urging him on.
"Oh shit……"
Wang Meng cursed under his breath; he had no time to rest.
He gritted his teeth again, braced himself on the edge of the bed, and began to move his legs.
Those two legs felt as if they were filled with lead, heavy and unresponsive.
With great effort, he finally managed to move them one after the other under the bed and onto the cold floor.
Be down-to-earth, but an even bigger test is coming—stand up.
He gripped the carved pillar beside the bed tightly with both hands, treating it as his only lifeline.
He used the last bit of strength in his body, his arm muscles bulging, to support his body, and shakily, little by little, pulled himself up from the edge of the bed.
The moment he finally managed to stand up straight, the whole world shook.
He could only avoid collapsing by leaning half his body weight against that pillar.
He succeeded.
He endured the excruciating pain all over his body and got out of bed.
Although he was in a disheveled state, his body was soaked in cold sweat, as if he had just been pulled out of the water, he ultimately overcame his broken body through sheer willpower.
They stood up.
But Wang Meng soon discovered another problem.
He wasn't wearing any clothes...
Chapter 23: With high water pressure, the water gun can't be stopped at will.
"The eighteen scholars are indeed unparalleled in the world."
A heartfelt exclamation rang out softly.
The one speaking was Ning Zhongze.
She was standing in front of a cluster of camellias in full bloom, her eyes filled with admiration and amazement.
That camellia tree named "Eighteen Scholars" is indeed a masterpiece.
On a single plant, eighteen flowers bloom at the same time, each with a different shape. Some are still buds, like shy maidens.
Some of them are fully unfurled, their layers upon layers of petals incomparably beautiful.
What's even more amazing is that these eighteen flowers are all different colors, deep red, light pink, pure white, and even some with gold edges, a riot of colors, like eighteen stunning beauties surrounding the main stem, vying for attention and creating a breathtaking spectacle.
The greenhouse was filled with a delightful fragrance that soothed the soul.
Surrounding this extraordinary plant are far more than just flowers.
Inside the greenhouse stood a group of stunningly beautiful women, each with their own unique charm and allure. They themselves were a more breathtaking sight than the "Eighteen Scholars."
Li Qingluo, dressed in a luxurious purple dress, leaned lazily against a bamboo chair.
She is the owner of this flower.
However, at this moment, his gaze was somewhat unfocused, glancing occasionally toward the entrance of the greenhouse.
Beside her, the woman in the Taoist robe, though still appearing aloof and cold, revealed her inner turmoil through her tightly pursed lips and occasional furrowed brows.
Her hand unconsciously twirled her whisk, clearly indicating that she was also somewhat absent-minded.
The woman who had previously worn a pale yellow dress had now changed into a light pink dress, which made her skin appear even whiter and her demeanor more gentle and charming.
But at this moment, she just stared blankly at the camellia, her eyes unfocused, lost in thought.
Beside Ning Zhongze stood two women with completely different temperaments.
One of them, around thirty years old, had exquisite features and a graceful figure; she should have been a fairy.
However, her apricot-yellow Taoist robe could not conceal the astonishing allure emanating from her mature body.
Her Taoist robe seemed a bit too tight, outlining her extraordinary breasts in a breathtaking way, almost as if they were about to burst out of the garment.
The slender waist cinched by the belt further accentuated the rounded, pert bottom below, creating a perfect curve that would make one's blood boil.
Her eyes were as cold as ice, yet she possessed a pair of amorous red lips, which were now slightly pursed, conveying a sense of aloofness and deep-seated resentment.
The other was a nun dressed in gray robes.
She looked a bit older, with a compassionate and dignified face, and a solemn appearance; she should have been a nun who had attained purity of mind and body.
However, even the wide monk's robe could not completely conceal her unusually voluptuous figure.
Especially her chest, where two mounds of flesh stood tall, rising and falling slightly with her breath, stretching her monk's robe into an exaggerated arc, as if two ripe, about-to-explode breasts were hidden inside.
Hers was even more voluptuous and plump; even under the cover of the monk's robe, her astonishing size and elasticity were still evident.
At this moment, she held prayer beads in her hand, her eyes lowered, and she seemed to be silently reciting scriptures.
Besides these stunningly beautiful main characters, there were also several younger-looking figures standing nearby, quietly discussing the patterns.
"What happen to you guys?"
A voice, tinged with a half-smile, a hint of languor and a touch of teasing, broke the tranquility of the greenhouse.
The speaker was the stunningly beautiful woman wearing an apricot-yellow Taoist robe, with an incredibly voluptuous figure.
Her captivating phoenix eyes swept over the faces of Li Qingluo, the woman in the Taoist robe, and the three women in pink, her playful smile deepening.
She leaned against the flower stand with captivating charm, her stunning breasts gently pressed together, revealing a dazzling curve.
She stretched out her slender fingers, picked up a petal, and said slowly, "It's one thing for Qingluo to be troubled, but she's also the organizer of this auction, so it's normal for her to be a little worried. Is she busy with so many things every day?"
Her gaze finally settled on the other two women who were clearly unsettled.
"But... Sister Yanqing, and Sister Rong'er!"
She deliberately called her "elder sister" in a sweet and cloying way, her eyes almost overflowing with teasing: "I clearly remember that when we were in Luoyang, you two never stopped talking about it, saying that you were finally going to see the legendary 'Eighteen Scholars' bloom in person."
She paused, looking at their somewhat evasive eyes, her smile deepened, and her voice lowered, carrying a suggestive ambiguity that only women could understand.
"What's wrong? Now that you've seen the true beauty of this riot of flowers, you all seem to have lost your souls?"
She paused deliberately, letting the ambiguous atmosphere build up, before uttering a teasing remark that would make any chaste woman blush: "Could it be... that you find this flower too beautiful, but not... hard enough?"
The word "hard" was uttered by her in a provocative, drawn-out tone, as if it carried countless invisible hooks that pierced straight into one's ears.
Not giving up, her gaze lingered mischievously on Rong'er's high breasts and blushing face, adding fuel to the fire: "Could it be that it can't satisfy the two of you... the burning expectations you've been waiting for all this way?"
The moment these words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze.
"What...what nonsense are you spouting!"
Huang Rong reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling with anger.
Her face flushed bright red, her eyes blazing with a mixture of shame and anger, yet she seemed to lack confidence because her secret had been exposed.
The nun seemed somewhat distracted, as if she hadn't caught the teasing in her words. She paused for several seconds before saying, "These eighteen scholars are indeed worthy of their reputation."
This made the woman in the apricot-yellow Taoist robe laugh even harder.
The gray-robed nun next to him, who had been keeping her head down and holding prayer beads, suddenly uttered a Buddhist chant.
"Amitabha."
Her voice was unexpectedly clear and melodious, like jade beads falling onto a plate. Everyone looked over and saw her slowly raise her head. On her originally compassionate and solemn face, there was now a faint, insightful smile.
"Mo Chou is always joking around."
She first nodded slightly to the woman in the apricot-yellow Taoist robe, her tone calm yet subtly sharp, "Yanqing and Rong'er are both people of noble character, how could they be so infatuated with a mere mortal flower?"
The woman in the apricot-yellow Taoist robe raised an eyebrow, about to retort, when the nun changed the subject, her wise eyes also carrying a hint of a smile as she looked at the cluster of "Eighteen Scholars" vying for attention.
"but……"
She drew out her words, her gaze sweeping among the clusters of flowers as if searching for something. Then, she continued meaningfully, "This humble nun feels that although these flowers are beautiful, they are, as the Buddhist scriptures say, ultimately just illusions, like flowers in a mirror or the moon in the water."
She paused for a moment, looking at the puzzled expressions on everyone's faces, her smile deepening, and continued to speak in a solemn and dignified tone, as if discussing Buddhism, uttering the most thought-provoking words.
"You see, although it has eighteen kinds of changes and blooms very lively, it is just a pretty but useless 'showpiece'."
It can neither quench hunger nor thirst, much less... fill emptiness.
"Fill the void"
She pronounced the four words clearly and precisely, yet each syllable ended with a subtle shift, like a gentle tickle on the heart, both tingling and itchy.
These words were even more devastating than the word "hard" from before!
Huang Rong's blush had just faded a little when it suddenly flared up again.
Even the woman in the apricot-yellow Taoist robe who started it all never expected that this usually dignified nun would say such explicit things.