Lin Feng's knees still pressed against the cold stone floor, his body trembling under the crushing weight of her cultivation pressure. He tried to force words out, his tongue heavy, his throat dry. "I… I was nervous… it was your cultivation pressure, that's why I froze," he stammered, clinging to the excuse as if it were the only rope keeping him from drowning. His voice cracked, uneven, but he hoped it sounded believable enough to pass.Her perfect, curvy figure drew everyone's attention and there was an undeniable charm about her that left others in awe. She carried herself with an air of confidence and seductive and alluring figure. Makes everyone gets sleepless night.
but Her eyes remained sharp, suspicion unbroken. She stepped closer, her presence pressing down on him like a blade. "Show me your pouch," she ordered, her tone cold and absolute.
Lin Feng's heart leapt again. His pouch was empty thanks to Inventory, but the demand terrified him. He fumbled quickly, pulling it open with trembling hands, showing the hollow insides. Sweat dripped down his temple as he prayed she would be satisfied.
Her gaze did not soften. "Strip," she commanded.
The word hit him harder than the pressure itself. His mind raced, humiliation burning through him. Inventory concealed everything, but the thought of being exposed, of standing bare under her gaze, made his stomach twist. He obeyed slowly, his body shaking, every movement heavy with shame. She examined him coldly, searching for stolen herbs, her suspicion absolute.
Just as the silence stretched unbearably, footsteps echoed nearby. A supervisor rushed into view, sensing the cultivation pressure that had filled the corridor. He bowed deeply, voice respectful and hurried. "Miss Matraich, what are you doing here now?"
Lin Feng's heart sank further. The title confirmed what he feared — she was not just a random cultivator but someone of high status within the Liang Family. The supervisor's deference showed how dangerous she truly was.
Matraich's cold gaze flicked toward the man. "I found this worker lingering near the storeroom. I was questioning him."
The supervisor looked at Lin Feng with disdain, his lips curling as if ready to spit. "Shall I discipline him, Miss?" he asked eagerly, his tone dripping with contempt.
Lin Feng's breath caught. If she gave the word, he would be beaten, perhaps expelled, perhaps worse. His survival hung on her decision.
But Matraich raised her hand slightly, dismissing the offer. "No. I will handle it myself," she said curtly. Her eyes returned to Lin Feng, colder than before, yet there was something else in them — curiosity, perhaps, or calculation.
The supervisor bowed again, retreating quickly, leaving Lin Feng alone under her gaze. The pressure eased slightly, but the weight of her suspicion remained.
"You will work closer to the storerooms from now on," she said finally. "I want to see if your diligence matches your words."
Lin Feng's chest tightened. More risk, more danger, but also more access. He lowered his head, voice trembling. "Yes, Miss."
She turned away without another word, her presence lingering even as she walked off. Lin Feng remained kneeling for a moment longer, his body weak, his mind spinning.
When he finally rose and walked away, his legs felt heavy, his breath uneven. Relief washed over him — Inventory had saved him, concealing the herbs perfectly. But humiliation burned deeper than any wound. He had been forced to kneel, stripped, treated like prey. His pride ached, his heart restless.
Yet another thought intruded, one he tried to push away but could not. He remembered her clearly now — the sharpness of her eyes, the steadiness of her posture, the way her presence filled the corridor. She wasn't just strong; she was striking. Fear had made him shiver, but something else had stirred beneath it, something he didn't want to admit. He shook his head quickly, muttering under his breath, "Dangerous… she's dangerous in more ways than one."