Chapter 8: The Enchantress with a Venomous Heart

Men are creatures ruled by their lower desires, whether straight or gay—it’s the same for all. Even the heroes who sweep across the world often stumble at the gates of beauty. Brother Long may not be a hero, but in this little safe haven, he’s something of a local tyrant; how could he endure the agony of wanting and not having?

Truth be told, Yang Dalong never really liked Zhao Nana. Perhaps it was because she rebuffed him time and again, imprinting herself on his mind by accident. Had she once thrown herself at him to secure a place in the safety zone, he probably wouldn't have spared her a glance.

Of course, all these “what ifs” are nothing but idle dreams. Zhao Nana watched Yang Dalong flit around her clinic like a persistent fly and wished she possessed some legendary skill—time reversal. She’d heard professors from the Academy had theorized about such things, though she doubted the truth of it.

“Brother Long, could you stop hovering around here? I need to work!” Zhao Nana kept her tone measured; she feared her words might provoke this local tyrant.

“The world’s ending—who cares about work?” Yang Dalong replied, then shouted to the queue outside, “Go home! Go home! With the shortage of medicine, Doctor Zhao can’t see patients!”

The crowd outside, sensing the situation, dispersed without protest. Zhao Nana, seeing everyone gone, grew uneasy and spoke with a hint of anger, “What exactly do you want?”

Yang Dalong leered, “I want to make little ones with you!”

Zhao Nana clenched her fists so tightly she nearly retched in disgust, but she forced herself to smile coyly. “Oh, you should have said so sooner! You work so hard, clocking in every day and sitting here all day. How about tonight? Daytime’s too public.”

“What’s there to be afraid of? I’d like to see who dares gossip!” Brother Long was pleased at her concession and couldn’t resist boasting.

“If you don’t leave now, I’ll get angry!”

…

After finally shooing away that plague, Zhao Nana exhaled deeply. She closed up her temporary clinic and went home to prepare.

She wasn't really setting up a candlelit dinner for a romantic evening; instead, she planned to carefully lay a trap for Yang Dalong, the lecher. The dinner would include drinks—spiked, of course. She gathered her tools and hid them well, lest he discover and use them against her.

As for her attire, Zhao Nana discarded her usual reserved style for something much more revealing—after all, that’s what men like. She brushed on a natural look but painted her lips a vivid red. When she looked in the mirror, she resembled a woman of the night.

What else was missing? Everything seemed ready, so Zhao Nana sat in her room waiting for Brother Long to take the bait.

As dusk settled, Brother Long arrived meticulously groomed. He was handsome and well-built, and with a little effort, he’d shed the look of a petty thug and now resembled a rugged leading man.

Knock-knock—there came a rap at the door. Zhao Nana took a deep breath, fixed a smile on her face, and opened the door to find a handsome, slightly world-weary man standing there, greeting her with a gentle smile.

Hmph! He may look the part now, but no amount of polish can hide the scoundrel beneath. Though she thought this, Zhao Nana feigned excitement and sidled up to him in a coquettish tone, “Oh, Brother Long! You’re so handsome tonight—I almost didn’t recognize you!”

Brother Long was utterly unprepared for Zhao Nana’s flirtatious tone and outfit. He blinked, uneasy. “Nana, are you possessed? Must be something wrong with your approach.” He reached out to touch her forehead, searching for signs of illness.

---

“Take your hand off me! Trying to take advantage again!” Zhao Nana snapped out of her role. Brother Long was reassured—this was the real Nana, no need to start over.

He stepped inside, closed the door, and surveyed the carefully arranged room, nodding in satisfaction, though a hint of impatience crept in. A veteran of many wild nights, Brother Long summoned his willpower to restrain himself.

The candlelit dinner, the height of romance, paired with Nana’s beauty, almost moved her. But reason quickly returned—he was no good, the kind that indulged in vice and violence, perhaps even murder. She’d studied anatomy in college, but she was a healer, while he was a destroyer. The planned program was about to begin.

“Brother Long, next…” Zhao Nana let her words trail off, glancing repeatedly at the bottle of red wine she’d prepared.

Brother Long thought he understood and rose gallantly to fetch the wine. As he turned away, Zhao Nana swiftly slipped her prepared sedative into Yang Dalong’s porridge, then waited for him to return with the wine so she could coax him to eat.

But Yang Dalong covertly glanced back, taking everything in. He was hardly unsuspecting, yet pretended ignorance and returned to the table.

Opening wine, pouring, letting it breathe, tasting…

“Brother Long, you’ve had a lot to drink—have some porridge to settle your stomach,” Zhao Nana said, trying to sound gentle.

“No, I want yours!” Yang Dalong replied in a childlike tone. Since the scene required him to be drunk, he played it to the hilt.

“But I’ve already tasted mine,” Zhao Nana feigned reluctance.

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do!” Zhao Nana blurted out, then quickly corrected herself with a contrite, “That’s not what I meant… How about I feed you, as an apology?” She pretended to be bashful.

“Alright!” Brother Long opened his mouth wide.

Zhao Nana scooped up a generous spoonful and shoved it at him, anxious he’d eat too little. Brother Long didn’t actually swallow it; instead, he let it spill everywhere like a child. Zhao Nana was annoyed but maintained her composure, chiding gently, “Look at you, you spilled it!” She picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.

Brother Long sat motionless, cooperating, mumbling, “Doesn’t taste good.”

“What should we do?” Zhao Nana pondered how to persuade him.

“Why don’t you try some too?” Yang Dalong’s tone turned cold and sinister. “What’s wrong, scared?”

Zhao Nana sensed danger and wanted to call for help or escape.

“Tsk tsk tsk, since I want you, you’d better behave and cooperate. Don’t play games with me!” Yang Dalong grabbed Zhao Nana without a shred of pity. “Trying to run or call for help? Forget it. Your robot butler—I dismantled it, you didn’t know, did you?”

---

Yang Dalong threw Zhao Nana onto the bed, grabbed a scarf as makeshift rope, and tied her hands to the headboard before attempting to undress. Zhao Nana refused to go down without a fight; she’d rather perish together. Summoning all her strength, she kicked Yang Dalong off the bed and struggled to rise.

Yang Dalong, sprawled on the floor, didn’t get up immediately—he’d made an unexpected discovery. Hidden beneath the bed was a small box, well concealed by other items. He dragged it out, found it locked, and used a hammer to pry it open. What he found stunned him—ropes, whips, handcuffs, pliers, tweezers, clamps, and other indescribable implements.

“All prepared for me? How considerate,” Yang Dalong sneered.

Zhao Nana shook her head in terror, sobbing and begging for mercy. Yang Dalong, annoyed, stuffed her mouth with a rag—at least it wasn’t a dirty sock.

Bound hand and foot, unable to move, and now gagged, Zhao Nana couldn’t even cry for help. She was truly trapped, terrified and sobbing.

“Don’t cry, little beauty. I’ll treat you well! Look at this feast you’ve prepared, all these toys—you really moved me.” The bashful grace Yang Dalong had shown at the door was gone; he’d reverted to his lecherous, sinister self. Clearly, a man can only keep up a façade for so long.

Zhao Nana was genuinely afraid now. Normally, Yang Dalong was just a sleazy nuisance, not truly evil. But now, he seemed a monster, ready to devour her. She shook her head and wept.

At this point, Yang Dalong had lost all interest in the original purpose. As someone who always exacts revenge, tormenting others was far more entertaining. Just like when he tortured the “big brother” who’d tried to assault him—listening to his screams had brought him immense satisfaction.

Of course, he wouldn’t treat a woman so brutally; for now, scaring her into tears would suffice. Where to start? First, he wanted her to stop crying—her wailing was annoying and might attract attention.

“No crying, no fuss, no calling for help! Let’s have a proper talk,” Yang Dalong commanded, not negotiated.

Zhao Nana, sensing his tone soften, ceased her protests. True to his word, Yang Dalong released her.

“Tell me, who put you up to all this? Was it Buzzcut or Scarface?” More than the kinky setup, Yang Dalong was concerned about a larger conspiracy—recent events had made him wary.

Zhao Nana shook her head, insisting she acted alone. Yang Dalong didn’t believe her and pretended to undress. Zhao Nana no longer resisted but stayed silent.

“No one told you to do this?” Brother Long was skeptical.