Chapter 315: Schemes of Rulers Of Great Nations (2)

In the serene, opulent heart of the Celestial Dragon Empire’s pavilion, the air was still and fragrant with the scent of ancient sandalwood and rare, blooming moon orchids.

The ancient Dragon Emperor, Huang Long, sat before a low, polished table of dark, thousand-year-old wood. He was not on a throne. He was practicing calligraphy, his hand moving with a slow, deliberate grace, each stroke of his brush a perfect, unhurried movement. He was a being of immense, terrifying power, a Martial Emperor who had lived for several hundred years, yet his appearance was that of a man in his prime, his handsome, regal features unmarred by the passage of time, his long, black hair a silken cascade.

Before him stood his most trusted advisor, the High Minister Chen Bo, his aged face a mask of calm, respectful deference.

“The young Duke of the Jorailian Kingdom hosted his gathering, Your Imperial Majesty,” Chen Bo reported, his voice a quiet, respectful murmur. “As anticipated, he is courting the smaller powers. He weaves a net of promises and trinkets.”

Huang Long did not look up from his scroll. His brush moved, creating a character that was both beautiful and powerful, a symbol of eternity. “A firefly thinks it can outshine the moon,” the Emperor mused, his voice a low, calm rumble that held the weight of centuries. “Let it have its flicker of light. It will be extinguished soon enough.”

Chen Bo bowed his head slightly. “Your wisdom is as boundless as the heavens, Your Majesty. But this firefly… it has a particularly irritating glow. Its light has begun to draw the other insects of the night. It creates… disharmony.”

The Emperor paused, his brush hovering over the scroll. “You have a proposal, High Minister.” It was not a question.

“A dragon does not swat a fly, Your Majesty,” Chen Bo said, echoing the Emperor’s own philosophy. “It simply changes the wind, and the fly is blown away. I believe it is time we… adjusted the prevailing winds.”

“Speak plainly, Chen Bo,” the Emperor said, his gaze still fixed on his calligraphy.

“This young Duke of the Jorailian Kingdom,” Chen Bo continued, his voice now a low, strategic hum, “he offers technology, protection. Promises. We, Your Majesty, can offer something far more tangible. Prosperity. We will not attack his new alliance; we will simply make it irrelevant. We will isolate it.”

“A sound strategy,” the Emperor conceded. “But it requires a delicate touch. A hand that can offer a golden chain as if it were a gift.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Chen Bo agreed. “And for such a task, I believe I know the perfect instrument. A woman of remarkable skill and… persuasive charm. The Guildmaster of the Jade Serpent Merchant Guild, Lin Ruoli.”

The Emperor’s hand paused once more. The name was vaguely familiar. A merchant guild that had seen a meteoric rise in recent years, swallowing up smaller competitors, its influence spreading like a beautiful, relentless vine.

“Lin Ruoli,” the Emperor mused, the name a soft, silken sound on his tongue. “I have heard the name. A woman of some… ambition.”

“More than ambition, Your Majesty,” Chen Bo corrected gently. “She possesses a genius for trade and diplomacy. She has single-handedly tripled the Guild’s profits in the last five years. Her network is vast, her methods… effective. She is the perfect choice to weave the golden cage you envision.”

The Emperor was silent for a long moment. He had never met this woman. She was a merchant, a commoner, a creature of a world far below his own celestial considerations. But Chen Bo’s recommendation was not one to be taken lightly.

“Very well,” the Emperor said finally, his brush descending to complete the final, perfect stroke of his calligraphy. “Summon her. I will meet this… Lin Ruoli… myself. I wish to see the instrument you would have me wield.”

The summons, when it arrived at the Jade Serpent Merchant Guild’s magnificent, if temporary, pavilion, was a quiet, understated affair. A single, silent court eunuch, a scroll bearing the Emperor’s personal seal. But its weight was that of a mountain.

Lin Ruoli received it in her private study. She was a woman in her early thirties, a vision of elegant, seductive beauty. Her gown of emerald silk was a masterpiece of subtle allure, cut in a way that hinted at the magnificent, curvaceous body beneath without ever being crass. A single, perfect jade hairpin held her glossy black hair in an intricate, elegant style. Her smile, as she read the summons, was a slow, beautiful bloom, like a night-lotus opening to the moon.

’The Emperor himself,’ she thought, her heart aflutter with a mixture of excitement and a healthy, calculating fear. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to move beyond the world of merchants and into the true, rarefied air of Imperial power.

She prepared for the audience with the meticulous care of a general preparing for a decisive battle. Her gown was chosen with exquisite precision. A creation of shimmering, sky-blue silk that clung to her magnificent curves, its neckline cut just low enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of the soft, full swell of her magnificent breasts. It was a bold choice, but she knew that in the world of men, beauty was a weapon, and she wielded hers with the skill of a master swordswoman.

When she walked, her perfect, sexy buttocks swayed with a hypnotic, mesmerizing rhythm, a silent, powerful promise that was as intoxicating as any perfume.

She arrived at the Celestial Dragon Empire’s pavilion, her movements a study in graceful, confident elegance. She was announced, and the great doors to the Emperor’s private chamber swung open.

She entered, and for the first time in her life, she felt a flicker of genuine, unadulterated awe.

Emperor Huang Long stood by a large, open balcony, gazing out at the moonlit peaks. He turned as she entered, and her breath caught in her throat. She had expected an ancient, wizened old man. The being before her was a god in human form, his handsome, regal features unmarred by time, his eyes holding the ancient, terrifying wisdom of a true dragon.

His gaze swept over her, and she felt it like a physical touch. A slow, appreciative, and utterly possessive appraisal. His eyes lingered for a moment on the hint of cleavage she so artfully displayed, then drifted down to her swaying hips, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.

Lin Ruoli felt a shiver run down her spine. This was not the leering, brutish gaze of the merchants and minor lords she was used to manipulating. This was the gaze of a predator. A dragon appraising a particularly beautiful jewel it intended to add to its hoard.

“Guildmaster Lin Ruoli,” the Emperor said, his voice a low, calm rumble that vibrated through her very bones. “You come highly recommended.”

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Lin Ruoli replied, her voice a silken purr as she performed a deep, flawless curtsy. “To be summoned into your presence is the greatest honor of my humble life.”

The Emperor gestured to a low table set with a delicate tea service. “Sit,” he commanded.

They spoke for an hour. He laid out his plan, his vision of a golden cage built of prosperity and exclusivity. She listened, her mind sharp, her insights brilliant. She offered her own suggestions, ways to refine the plan, to make the cage even more inescapable.

“We will not just offer them trade, Your Majesty,” she suggested, her voice a low, conspiratorial murmur. “We will offer them… dreams. Access to our academies for their brightest children. Marriages between their noble houses and our own lesser gentry. We will bind them to us not just with coin, but with blood and ambition.”

The Emperor watched her, his gaze intense, his earlier amusement replaced by a genuine, if predatory, admiration. She was not just beautiful; she was brilliant. A perfect, exquisite tool. A tool he now realized was being wasted. Her husband, he knew, was a powerful General, a loyal but simple-minded brute. A man utterly unworthy of such a magnificent, complex creature.

’A flower of such rare, intoxicating beauty,’ the Emperor mused, his gaze once again lingering on the soft, full swell of her breasts. ’Should not be left to wither in the garden of a common general.’

He made his decision.

“High Minister Chen Bo,” the Emperor said, his voice a sudden, sharp command. “You may leave us. The Guildmaster and I have… further matters to discuss. In private.”

Chen Bo, who had been standing silently in the corner of the room, bowed his head. “As you command, Your Majesty.” He offered Lin Ruoli a brief, unreadable glance before turning and leaving the chamber, the great doors closing behind him with a soft, final click.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The air, which had been filled with the high-minded hum of political strategy, was now thick with a new, terrifying tension.

Lin Ruoli looked at the Emperor, a flicker of genuine, womanly fear in her intelligent eyes. “Your Majesty?”

The Emperor rose from his seat, his movements slow, deliberate, a predator closing in on its prey. He did not speak. He simply looked at her, his eyes burning with a sudden, raw, possessive fire that made her skin crawl.

He was before her in an instant, his movements a silent, impossible blur. She gasped, a choked, terrified sound, as his hands shot out, not to caress her, but to seize the delicate, shimmering silk of her gown.

With a single, brutal, contemptuous motion, he ripped it from her body.

“Ah!” she screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated shock and terror as the beautiful, expensive fabric tore, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her delicate, lace-trimmed undergarments.

She tried to cover herself, her hands flying to her exposed breasts, but he was too fast. He seized her wrists, his grip like iron, and pulled her towards him.

“Your Majesty! Please! What are you doing?!” she cried, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and outrage.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound that held no trace of humor. “I am correcting an imbalance in the celestial harmony, my dear Guildmaster,” he purred, his voice a low, dangerous whisper against her ear. “A flower of your exquisite beauty… it is a waste for it to be enjoyed by a single, brutish general. Such beauty… it belongs to the Emperor.”

He pushed her back against the large, polished table, her body crashing against the delicate tea service, sending cups and saucers scattering to the floor.

She struggled, her legs kicking, her body writhing, but it was useless. He was a Martial Emperor. His strength was that of a god. He held her down with one hand, his power a crushing, inescapable weight.

With his free hand, he ripped away her remaining undergarments, leaving her completely, utterly naked, her magnificent, curvaceous body exposed on the cold, hard wood of the table.

She sobbed, a sound of pure, helpless despair. She had used her beauty as a weapon, a tool, her entire life. But she was not a whore. She had known only one man, her husband. And now… now this…

He did not speak. He simply admired her, his gaze sweeping over her magnificent, trembling form. Her full, heavy breasts, her narrow waist, her flaring, curvaceous hips, her perfect, sexy buttocks.

He unfastened his own robes, his magnificent, imperial cock springing free, hard and erect and pulsing with a life of its own.

Lin Ruoli stared at it, her eyes widening in terror. It was a weapon. A tool of conquest. And it was about to destroy her.

He spread her legs with a single, brutal motion, and then, without a single word of warning, without any pretense of seduction, he drove into her.

She screamed, a raw, animalistic sound of pure, unadulterated pain as he tore through her, his size a brutal, punishing invasion.

He began to fuck her, his movements deep, powerful, and utterly devoid of any tenderness. He was not making love to her; he was conquering her. He was branding her. He was breaking her.

He fucked her on the table, her magnificent, curvaceous buttocks jiggling with each brutal, pounding thrust. He fucked her against the wall, her beautiful legs wrapped around his waist, her cries of pain and a dawning, terrible, unwilling pleasure echoing in the silent, opulent chamber. He took her from behind, pulling her hair, his movements raw, savage, a dragon claiming its prize.

He bit her, his teeth leaving marks on her soft, pale skin. He fondled her, his hands squeezing and kneading her magnificent breasts, her perfect, sexy buttocks, with a bruising, possessive force.

He fucked her for what felt like an eternity, his stamina as boundless as his power. He brought her to a series of shuddering, unwilling orgasms, her body betraying her, responding to his masterful, brutal fucking even as her mind screamed in silent, helpless protest.

Finally, as the first pale light of dawn began to creep into the chamber, he came inside her with a deep, guttural roar, his body convulsing with the power of his release, his seed flooding her womb.

He collapsed on top of her, his weight a crushing, possessive blanket. He stayed there for a long moment, his breathing ragged, his body slick with sweat.

He then rolled off her, leaving her a broken, whimpering puddle on the cold, hard floor.

He stood, calmly adjusting his robes, his handsome face once again a mask of serene, imperial authority. He looked down at her, his eyes cold, impassive.

“You will do the task I have assigned you, Guildmaster Lin Ruoli,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous command. “You will weave your golden cage. You will isolate the young Duke of the Jorailian Kingdom and his little alliance of beggars. And you will succeed.”

He paused, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. “And you will visit my chambers. Regularly. To… report on your progress.”

He leaned down, his voice a chilling, absolute threat. “And if you displease me, if you fail me, if you ever think of refusing me… I will not just destroy your precious guild. I will send you your husband’s head in a box. Do you understand?”

Lin Ruoli, her body a symphony of pain, her mind a shattered ruin of its former brilliance, could only nod, a single, silent tear tracing a path through the grime and sweat on her beautiful, broken face.

She had come to this meeting as a queen of commerce, a master of her own destiny. She would leave as a slave. A beautiful, broken flower, now owned, body and soul, by the Dragon Emperor.