Entering the Spirit Void, Chapter 110: The Drunken Monk

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When Li Hao glanced at the old monk, he did not immediately leap out but instead drifted back to memories from over ten years ago. At that time, Li Hao had been captured by villains who robbed him of his money. The old servant, Uncle Jin, knelt and pleaded with them to spare Li Hao’s life.

One ruthless bandit raised a gleaming large blade and swung it down. A mournful scream echoed as Uncle Jin’s head was severed, blood spurting high into the air. Terrified, Li Hao covered his eyes with both hands, his legs buckled, and he collapsed unconscious onto the ground.

When Li Hao regained consciousness, it was late at night, so dark he couldn’t see his own hand. He dared not breathe loudly, surrounded by an eerie silence that felt like the hells from ghost stories. Was he dead? Where was Uncle Jin?

Suddenly, he heard the scurrying of rats around him. At first, he mistook the sounds for the clanking chains of the hellish judges escorting souls, but when he realized it was only rats, he thought about how heartbroken his parents would be to know he was lying alone in such terrifying darkness.

Gradually, the darkness faded as dawn approached, and shapes around him became faintly visible. He was lying on a bench, bound tightly. The roof was thatched, and the walls made of bamboo.

At daybreak, two sword-bearing, grim-faced men entered. Seeing their intention to slaughter Li Hao for a feast, they threw him to the floor. Li Hao lay still, eyes closed, resigned to whatever fate awaited.

Suddenly, a bucket of water was dumped over him, making him shiver. His face and hair were soaked, and he struggled to open his eyes as someone began removing his clothes.

When the water ran down his face, he opened his eyes to see the two fierce women who had taken off his clothes. They were rough in manner and crude in speech. One woman wiped his face dry with a wrung-out cloth, puckered her dry lips, and kissed him softly, saying, “What a sweet, tender, and adorable face—truly charming.”

The other woman laughed loudly as she pulled down his trousers. “You scared little brat, you’ve shrunk your treasure so much you might as well be a girl.”

After washing him clean, one of the women lifted Li Hao and kissed him as she carried him. “Snowy skin, tender flesh—whose good child are you?”

She brought him into an ornately decorated room and laid him on a soft bed, warning, “Child, if you obey him a little, you can keep your life. But if you resist that devil, he will kill you and roast you for his meal.”

Soon after, Li Hao endured a humiliation he would never forget, bestowed by that bald-headed monk.

The monk entered, stripped off his robe, standing naked, his hairy, obese body repulsive beyond words.

He demanded Li Hao kiss his crotch. Though young, Li Hao had studied the sages and would not betray their teachings just to survive.

Seeing Li Hao’s refusal, the monk beat him savagely before dressing and leaving. No one came to tend to Li Hao afterward.

At noon, the woman who had carried him broughtI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.