The Hundred Beauties Bound in the Jianghu

"Move," the leader of the black-clad men said, his voice a low, hoarse rasp devoid of any discernible emotion. The other two quickly unfastened coiled, dark red ropes from their waists. The ropes gleamed with an oily sheen, and upon closer inspection, they were revealed to be woven from countless metallic threads finer than a strand of hair, possessing a cold hardness beneath their suppleness. Their movements were disturbingly practiced. One man seized Qiluo's limp wrist, twisting it behind her back. The other took one end of the rope, secured it, and swiftly tied a complex, unyielding knot where their wrists crossed. The rope bit into her fair flesh, leaving a stark red mark. Yet, Qiluo only let out a barely audible whimper, her long eyelashes fluttering a few times before she completely lost consciousness. "Waistline," the leader commanded, his gaze sharp as a blade, sweeping over the breathtaking curves Qiluo's tight dance costume accentuated. One of the men immediately produced a roll of thinner, dark gold silk ribbon. This ribbon was exceptionally soft and cool to the touch. He knelt on one knee and precisely wrapped the ribbon around Qiluo's slender, graspable waist. The ribbon tightened, loop by loop, sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her waist, further emphasizing the already stunning curve of her waist and hips, as if the most meticulous sculptor were refining a perfect masterpiece. The ends of the ribbon were tied into an exquisite bow at her side, which, far from detracting from the aesthetic, added a touch of unsettling refinement. Next, they attended to Qiluo's legs. One man gently lifted her long, straight right leg, while the other swiftly began to wrap the rope from her ankle, coiling it tightly and securing it firmly. The left leg was treated the same way. Finally, the two tightly bound legs were brought together and cinched immovably above the knees with rope. Throughout the entire process, the black-clad men's movements were seamless and economical, each wrap and knot executed with precision and efficiency, as if rehearsed thousands of times. It was as if they weren't kidnapping a person, but meticulously "packaging" a rare treasure. "Hmm... Perfect," the leader said with satisfaction, surveying his "masterpiece." Qiluo was bound in a posture of extreme humiliation yet possessing a strange, captivating beauty: her arms were twisted behind her back, her wrists pale from the rope's constriction; her slender waist was cinched into a perfect arc by the dark gold ribbon, creating a breathtaking contrast with her full hips; her legs were bound together, wrapped from ankle to knee as if a beautifully presented gift. She lay limply in the arms of the two men, her head lolling to one side, exposing her smooth, elegant neck, like a swan with a broken wing. "Tsk, this waist, these legs... they're even more tantalizing when bound," one of the men couldn't help but run his rough finger lightly along Qiluo's waistline, tightened by the dark gold ribbon, feeling the taut skin beneath the rope and those stunning curves. His finger moved upward, with an almost sacrilegious greed, lightly kneading the edge of Qiluo's chest, which had become more prominent and firm from the rope's constriction. The soft fullness yielded slightly under his touch, and even in her unconsciousness, a faint, pained whimper escaped Qiluo's throat. "Enough, don't delay the mission," the leader interrupted coldly. "The Master wants an 'intact' collectible, not a damaged piece you've messed with. Let's go." The reprimanded man reluctantly withdrew his hand, a flicker of unwillingness in his eyes, but he quickly resumed his cold demeanor. At that moment, a completely black carriage, bearing no markings, had silently stopped behind the side of the high platform. Its curtains were made of heavy black cloth, sealed tightly, resembling a moving sarcophagus. The black-clad men moved swiftly. Two of them lifted the exquisitely bound Qiluo, treating her like an extremely precious, fragile item, and carefully, yet unceremoniously, placed her deep within the carriage. The interior of the carriage seemed to be lined with thick velvet, into which Qiluo's body sank, leaving only the alluring outline meticulously sculpted by the ropes and ribbon. The carriage door slammed shut with a "bang," shutting out all external light and sound.

"Zhao Qi... you beast... if you dare touch her, I, Liu Qingli, will haunt you as a ghost." Liu Qingli's voice was hoarse and broken, constricted by the binding around her chest. "Haunt you as a ghost." Zhao Qi let out a low, mocking laugh as if he'd heard the greatest joke. "A ghost won't let me go, you say? Lady Liu, you're less than an ant right now. With your body trapped in this net? Save your breath. Soon, I'll take away your strength to even speak. Men, bring this 'esteemed guest' up as well. Let her keep Miss Su company." The lackeys immediately sprang into action. Several thick ropes were lowered from the pit's opening, hooking onto the edges of the large net that constricted Liu Qingli. At Zhao Qi's command, the winch turned, and the net began to be slowly pulled upwards. Liu Qingli let out a suppressed groan. As the net ascended, it tightened further, as if squeezing out her last breath. The cold, rough ropes dug deep into her skin, her arms pinned tightly to her sides, her chest and waist bound as if by iron hoops. Her entire weight pressed against the suffocating net, each upward movement accompanied by the aching pressure of her bones being compressed and a dizzying sensation like [X]. By the time the net reached the edge of the pit, Liu Qingli's face was ashen, her clothes soaked with cold sweat. The lackeys swiftly released the mechanism sealing the net's opening and dragged her out of it like a piece of cargo. The moment the net loosened, numbness and soreness surged through her like a tide, but before she could even gasp for air, she was roughly shoved and stumbled towards Su Man'er. Two women, similarly bound by ropes, equally humiliated, equally desperate, stood side-by-side on the cold stone floor. Liu Qingli's arms were tied tightly behind her back with several dark red ropes, which also constricted her waist and chest, accentuating her bound form. Su Man'er remained in the humiliating pose she had been forced into, her ankles connected to her wrists, her body bent unnaturally. Their gazes met, wordless, conveying only the bone-deep despair, humiliation, and profound worry for each other's safety reflected in their eyes. They had once been heroines fighting side-by-side; now they were prisoners at the mercy of others, even the simple act of being near each other a luxury they couldn't afford. Zhao Qi paced before them with satisfaction, like an emperor inspecting his spoils of war. His gaze swept back and forth between Liu Qingli's rope-tightened chest and Su Man'er's forcibly elevated hips, his face alight with a perverse excitement and the arrogance of absolute control. "Good. Very good." He spread his arms, as if embracing a feast. "This is the kind of display we 'Shadow Hands' should have. Two renowned beauties of the martial world, now both 'art pieces' on our display shelf." He abruptly dropped his smile, his triangular eyes flashing with sharp light, his voice suddenly rising, a command brooks no argument: "Listen. Tonight, I will personally conduct the most perfect, the most thorough 'Beautiful Binding Collection' for you two. I will show you what true 'Shadow Hands' are. I will bind you into the most pleasing forms for my master, making you the most dazzling, the most... obedient new acquisitions in our 'Shadow Hands' collection room." He emphasized the word "obedient" with extreme weight. A cold wind swept through the courtyard, caressing their rope-bound bodies and bringing a bone-chilling cold. Liu Qingli looked at the madness in Zhao Qi's eyes, heard his declarations of "Beautiful Binding Collection" and "acquisitions," and an unprecedented chill shot from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, instantly freezing her blood. "Beautiful Binding Collection"... "acquisitions"...绮罗's fate... Everything before her pointed to an abyss more terrifying than death. Would she and Su Man'er truly be bound by these beasts into the shapes they desired, becoming playthings to satisfy the perverse desires of that mysterious "master"? Shadows spread silently under the pale moonlight, like invisible hands, slowly strangling their throats.

The circular display in the center of the hall was illuminated by a crystal chandelier. A woman in a sheer dancing costume knelt on black velvet, her arms bound tightly behind her back at the butterfly bone with golden silk ropes, her wrists and elbows secured together. The golden silk snaked from behind her to her chest, crossing above her full [X], digging deeply into her skin and forming two soft, distorted curves. The knot continued downwards, cinching her slender waist before finally encircling her ankles, which were pressed together. She was forced to tilt her head back, her neck forming a fragile arc, her eyes wet with tears. A woman in a plain white gauze dress knelt behind her, holding a peacock feather. The tip of the feather was gently stroking the soles of her feet, which were already red from the rope's constriction. The dancer in pink curled and uncurled her toes, a soft whimper escaping her throat. Each tremor caused the knot on her chest to dig deeper into her flesh. "Sister Qingli..." Su Man'er's voice was kept very low, her fingertips digging into Liu Qingli's arm. Liu Qingli's gaze swept over the dancer's waist and hips, outlined by the ropes, before turning to the alcove on the right. Crystal pillars refracted a cold light under the dim blue glow. A woman in a plain green dress was bound to a pillar by dark green ropes that resembled vines. The ropes began at her wrists, spiraling upwards to her elbows, then down under her arms, crossing at her chest and tightening, clearly defining her bust. Several small silver bells were tied to the ends of the ropes, emitting a delicate chime with each of her subtle struggles. Two women, also in plain white gauze, stood nearby. One slowly traced the red marks on her neck left by the ropes with her fingertip. The other covered her mouth and giggled each time the bells chimed, her gaze drifting over the woman's flushed cheeks, a result of shame, and her bound body. "Are the esteemed guests interested in the 'collections'?" A lazy, smiling voice came from behind them. Liu Qingli turned. Tang Wanqing was leaning against a beaded curtain, dressed in a vibrant red brocade palace gown that made her skin appear like snow. A ruby hairpin swayed gently in her golden-threaded updo with her every movement. A shimmering, glazed-colored rope was loosely wrapped around her waist, and her slender fingers idly toyed with its end. "I've heard that the Myriad Treasures Pavilion houses all the world's rare treasures. We've come to broaden our horizons," Su Man'er offered a perfectly timed smile, though her fingertips still clutched Liu Qingli's sleeve. Tang Wanqing's gaze swept over the two women, finally settling on Su Man'er's delicate wrist. "Your wrist bones are truly exquisite," she chuckled. The glazed rope in her fingers suddenly darted out like a living thing, coiling around Su Man'er's wrist like a snake and tightening abruptly. "If you were to wrap this glazed rope around it a few times, it would surely be a most beautiful sight." The cold rope instantly dug into her skin, and Su Man'er's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing uncontrollably. Liu Qingli stepped forward half a pace, subtly shielding Su Man'er behind her. "The proprietress is joking. We are only here to admire treasures." Her voice was cool and steady. "Oh?" Tang Wanqing's eyes flickered, her gaze settling on Liu Qingli. She raised her hand, her fingertip lightly brushing away non-existent dust from Liu Qingli's shoulder. A nearby maid immediately stepped forward, holding a silk cape embroidered with entwined lotus flowers in silver thread. "The night is growing cold, Lady Liu. Be careful not to catch a chill." The maid's voice was soft, but her actions carried an undeniable force. The silk cape was instantly draped over Liu Qingli's arms, tightly encasing her upper body and binding her arms to her sides. Tang Wanqing looked with satisfaction at Liu Qingli's upright posture, outlined by the silk, and her forcibly drawn-in arms. She lightly traced Liu Qingli's shoulder, now tightly encased by the fabric. "Lady Liu, as cold and pure as frost, if you were to be carefully bound with ribbons, I imagine a more captivating charm would emerge from beneath that icy exterior," her voice held a faint, almost imperceptible sigh. Liu Qingli was already displeased but did not wish to alert them. She remained calm. Su Man'er seized the opportunity to speak, the glazed rope on her wrist swaying slightly as she raised her hand. "Proprietress, I've heard the pavilion has even rarer 'collections'? Do my sister and I have the fortune to view them?" Tang Wanqing withdrew her gaze from Liu Qingli and looked at the glazed rope on Su Man'er's wrist, a deeper curve forming on her lips. "Naturally."

On the edge of the jade platform, countless fine, bone-gnawing golden threads extended upwards, beginning to coil around her slender waist. The ropes, as if alive, precisely wrapped three times around the narrowest part of her waist, then with a flash of gold, they tightened abruptly. Under the immense pulling force, her waist was cinched into a breathtakingly thin arc, leaving faint bruises on her skin. The golden ropes did not stop there, but continued to split and entwine, like two agile serpents, climbing up along the roots of her rounded thighs, then abruptly splitting to the sides, firmly separating her two long, beautiful legs and forcibly securing them to the sides of the jade platform. This extremely spread-leg posture caused her skirt to slide down, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin. Even more astonishingly, her ankles were also tightly bound by the golden ropes, adorned with a few small golden bells. Every time she struggled in vain against the restraints, the golden bells would emit clear, pleasant chimes, echoing in the vast illusion, like an accompaniment to this luxurious bondage. Chu Hongxiu stared blankly at herself in the illusion, a beauty of extreme, intensely oppressive power. However, as she realized it was an illusion, a sharp, constricting pain suddenly came from reality. Her body tensed violently. The golden silk ropes that had been merely suspending her upside down now seemed to come alive. A tremendous force traveled up from her ankles, her calves, and continued upwards, just like the golden rope that bound her waist in the illusion, tightening abruptly. Her arms were instantly pulled back and lifted. The golden silks, like agile serpents, precisely wrapped around her wrists and elbows, finally meeting behind her back, lifting her elbows high and pressing them tightly against her spine. This bound-back posture prevented her from closing her arms, forcing her chest to arch upwards, feeling the pulling and binding from behind. The golden silk ropes around her waist tightened visibly, just like the three loops that had left bruises in the illusion, pressing onto her slender waist with an extremely real sensation, instantly leaving clear, slightly reddened marks. Her legs, just like in the illusion, were separated by the golden silks, forcibly pulled apart to the sides and fixed to the sides of the rope system. Even her ankles were realistically bound by thin ropes like golden rings, and when she struggled slightly, a clear, crisp chime of a golden bell actually rang out. "Mmmph," Chu Hongxiu let out a muffled groan. This synchronized oppressive feeling of illusion and reality was even more suffocating than a pure illusion. Her face was filled with astonishment; the sensation was too real, as if she were truly on that jade platform binding her. Just as she was filled with doubt and surprise, at the bottom of the jade platform deep within the illusion, a reflected image suddenly appeared. At the bottom of the crystal-clear platform, she saw the figure of another person – it was Su Yin. However, Su Yin's appearance was extremely tragic. She was not suspended upside down as Chu Hongxiu had been, but in a more humiliating manner. She was suspended upside down by countless vines on some kind of thorny frame. The vines were skillfully applied, as if by a master of bondage, specifically wrapping around the most sensitive and easily bound areas. A thick, soft vine passed across her chest, sinking deeply into the cleavage, while another tightly encircled her soft waist like a belt, outlining a perfect curve. Even more terrifyingly, her already fragile ankles were wrapped by two vines, which were then pulled taut, forcing her legs completely apart into an extreme, passive, and humiliating posture. Su Yin's figure was delicate; this forced separation undoubtedly caused her immense pain. One of the silver bells that had always accompanied her footsteps on her ankles was broken, and the other was emitting intermittent moans under the pull of the vines. Her face was pale, her lips bloodless from pain, and several small thorny vines were tightly wrapped around her slender neck, like a noose about to sever it. "Su Yin..." Chu Hongxiu saw this scene, disregarding the oppressive restraints on her body, and shouted sternly. She tried to mobilize her internal energy to break free, but another change occurred. The bone-gnawing totems at the bottom of the jade platform, the patterns originally carved in the illusion, all lit up at this moment. Crimson light spread outwards from the totems, creeping like living things and transmitting to the golden silk ropes in reality. The golden silks, which had only been binding her skin, now seemed to ignite, bursting with dazzling blue light. A strange power flowed through the golden silks into Chu Hongxiu's limbs and bones, like an invisible net firmly sealing the internal energy within her body. Her meridians felt as if they were pricked by countless tiny golden needles; every circulation of internal energy brought a prickly, numbing pain. She tried to activate her逍遥剑意 (Carefree Sword Intent), but found it to be incredibly slow, as if separated by a thick golden membrane. The restraints in reality became stronger. The golden silks seemed to gain life, not only tightening and digging deeper but also beginning to slowly writhe, searching for every sensitive indentation on her body, as if to mold her into a perfect work of art for all to admire.

The icy touch instantly wrapped around her wrists. Dozens of wax threads, like living creatures, tightened, intertwined, and coiled in an instant. What was even more terrifying was that when these threads touched Leng Yue's skin, which had become cold from the potent poison and exertion— *Screech.* A grating sound of solidification echoed. Those dozens of soft wax threads, in the blink of an eye, hardened and solidified. They were no longer ropes, but had transformed into a pair of heavy, cold, and perfectly sealed amber arm shackles. Exactly like the shackles that had previously bound her left wrist. The two arm shackles, as if custom-made for her, locked her wrists tightly on both arms, fixing them to her sides. Her joints were completely immobilized, making it difficult to even move her fingers. With her arms bound, Leng Yue's forward momentum halted abruptly, and she fell heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. "Act," Tang Wanqing commanded sharply, quickly tucking the booklet into her embrace. Jiao Na's eyes flashed with ferocity as she slammed her hands down on the blood-red guqin. *Rumble.* The walls of the entire space seemed to come alive. The originally smooth stone walls instantly cracked open, revealing countless tiny holes. In the next moment, ten thousand silvery-white threads, like a silver waterfall breaking through a dam, erupted from the holes in all directions, above, below, left, and right. These threads were as fine as ox hair, dense as a torrential downpour, carrying a strong, pungent, sweet, and腥气 smell—the scent of a potent anesthetic. They wove into a vast, all-encompassing net of death, instantly engulfing the entire space. "Careful," Liu Qingli's long sword danced, forming a curtain of light in an attempt to block. But the threads were too numerous and too dense. Several silver threads pierced the sword net, entangling her arms and waist. Su Man'er bore the brunt of it. She was closest to the wall, and before her cry of alarm could even escape her lips, countless silver threads had already swallowed her whole. Leng Yue's arms were locked by the two heavy amber arm shackles, severely restricting her movement. The cold glint in her eyes undiminished, her body moved like a phantom, dodging and weaving through the downpour of threads. Her dark figure left trails of afterimages, narrowly avoiding the entanglement of most of the threads. However, the threads were simply too dense. *Thwack, thwack, thwack.* Several silver threads wrapped around her ankles. More threads, like piranhas smelling blood, swarmed towards her instantly. They coiled around her legs, waist, and arms. Layer upon layer. The cold, sticky sensation enveloped her entire body, the sweet,腥气 of the anesthetic rushing into her nose and mouth. In just a few breaths, Leng Yue's figure was completely submerged. A massive, writhing "cocoon," formed by countless silver-white threads, hung suspended in mid-air. Her arms were forcibly pulled and crossed above her head, the two amber arm shackles looking particularly glaring amidst the entanglement of threads. Her toes were spread apart, and several fine threads were precisely wound around the base of each toe, with small, cold silver bells tied to their ends. The entire person resembled a sacrificial offering, completely immobilized, with only the slight undulation of the cocoon visible. On the other side, Liu Qingli fought valiantly in the downpour of threads, protecting Su Man'er. Her long sword sliced through countless silver threads, but more continued to entangle her. A thick silver thread, like a venomous snake, coiled around her waist and yanked her backward forcefully. Liu Qingli lost her balance and was flung violently against the wall. *Bang.* The moment her back hit the stone wall, more silver threads shot out from the holes in the wall, entangling her tightly. Then, the thread around her waist was pulled upward sharply. Liu Qingli was hoisted upside down, her moon-white sash slipping down in the process, revealing her firm, flat abdomen and slender waist. The silver thread around her waist dug deeply into her skin, leaving a deep, rapidly swelling, purplish mark, even showing small blood spots from ruptured capillaries beneath the skin. She struggled desperately, but the threads tightened, and the dizziness of being suspended upside down washed over her in waves. Su Man'er, whom she had been protecting beneath her, suffered an even more terrifying restraint. Countless silver threads, as if alive, wrapped around her body, layer upon layer, instantly encasing her into a giant, airtight, silver "spherical mass."

Tang Wanqing clutched the bleeding wound on her collarbone, blood seeping through her fingers and dripping onto the ground, forming a small, dark red pool. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of shame and fury as she stared intently at Leng Yue, who had broken free from her cocoon but whose arms were still bound by amber shackles. "Good... very good," Tang Wanqing's voice was distorted by pain and anger. She struggled to stand, ignoring the searing pain in her collarbone, and her blood-stained hand pointed fiercely at Leng Yue and the other two. "Hold them down for me." Jiao Na chuckled, her delicate hand lightly sweeping across the blood-colored guqin. Invisible sound waves spread out, and the silk threads binding the three suddenly tightened. *Thump. Thump. Thump.* Leng Yue, Liu Qingli, and Su Man'er were forcibly dragged and forced to kneel on the cold ground. The giant bronze mirrors embedded in the surrounding walls clearly reflected their current disheveled and humiliated postures. Leng Yue's arms were shackled in front of her by the heavy amber arm restraints. Her dark, fitted outfit was torn in several places by the silk threads, revealing the pale skin beneath. Especially on her chest, where the silk threads had previously constricted her, the swollen red marks had not yet faded, making them particularly conspicuous under the tight fabric. Tang Wanqing walked step by step towards Leng Yue, her blood-stained fingertips carrying a heavy scent of gore. She leaned down, her icy gaze sweeping over Leng Yue's tightly bound chest like a venomous snake. Suddenly, she extended two fingers and precisely pinched a swollen, red protrusion on Leng Yue's chest, deeply indented by the silk threads. "Urgh." A sharp, piercing pain mixed with intense humiliation instantly overwhelmed Leng Yue. Her body trembled violently, and her eyes beneath the silver mask erupted with terrifying killing intent, but she was held fast by the amber arm restraints and the constricting silk threads. "Does it hurt?" Tang Wanqing's voice carried a cruel delight as she tightened her grip, twisting the sensitive protrusion she held, watching it deform and swell under her fingers. "Miss Leng Yue, you've become a plaything under my fingertips now..." With her other hand, she drew a smooth, warm jade ruler from her waist. The edge of the ruler had been polished to be exceptionally smooth and sharp. *Slap.* The jade ruler, cutting through the air, fiercely struck the sole of Leng Yue's left foot, which was bound separately and had silver bells tied to its toes. "Jingle bells—." The silver bells emitted a rapid, chaotic chime. A burning, fiery pain exploded from the sole of her foot. Leng Yue's toes curled involuntarily from the intense pain, causing the silver bells to jingle wildly again. The cold jade ruler was raised once more. *Slap. Slap. Slap.* The jade ruler repeatedly struck Leng Yue's sensitive soles, each blow raising a patch of redness and swelling. The silver bells rang frantically with each strike, their clear chimes echoing in the empty space, intertwining with Leng Yue's suppressed groans to form a symphony of humiliation. "Tell me," Tang Wanqing stopped striking, the tip of the jade ruler pressing against the most swollen and red spot on Leng Yue's sole, grinding it forcefully. "How does it feel to be beaten while wearing bells... Is it amusing?"