Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

Outside the bathroom, Jiang Hong was not idle.

Listening to the sound of water inside, a charming smile curled at the corner of her lips. After pushing away Chen Feng's somewhat rough embrace, she quickly got up, drew the heavy blackout curtains, leaving only a warm yellow floor lamp, the light dim and ambiguous.

She walked to the dressing table and lit an aromatherapy lamp. It was a specially blended ylang-ylang essential oil, which has aphrodisiac and relaxing effects, and its sweet aroma quickly filled the room.

Then, she opened the wardrobe, her fingers tracing the rows of high-end pajamas, finally settling on a deep purple lace tulle nightgown. The dress was daring, as thin as a cicada's wing, with a deep V-neck in the front and back that barely covered anything, yet perfectly accentuated her mature, voluptuous curves.

Jiang Hong changed her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. At thirty-eight, she had shed her youthful naiveté, but gained a refined charm honed by time. Her skin remained fair and firm, and the fine lines around her eyes didn't make her look older; instead, they added to her allure.

"You little rascal, you got off easy." She chuckled at herself in the mirror, took out a bottle of imported massage oil from the drawer, and warmed it in her palm.

"Splash—"

The bathroom door was opened.

A wave of hot, humid steam rose up. Chen Feng, wearing only a white towel around his waist, walked out while drying his hair.

In that instant, Jiang Hong's gaze was involuntarily drawn to it.

It's so good to be young.

Chen Feng's physique wasn't the kind of rigid muscles you get from working out in a gym; it was the result of years of fighting, brawling, and carrying sandbags—a real combat physique. He had broad shoulders, a V-shaped back, and eight clearly defined abdominal muscles with glistening water droplets that slid down his V-line and into the edge of a bath towel.

Several faint scars crisscrossed the area, which, instead of detracting from the beauty, added a touch of masculine wildness and vicissitude.

Chen Feng looked up and was stunned.

Under the dim light, Jiang Hong lay on her side on the chaise longue. Her purple gauze nightgown was faintly visible in the light, her long, slender, white legs were crossed, and her toes were painted with bright red nail polish, making her look exceptionally alluring.

She held the bottle of essential oil in her hand, her eyes glazed over, her red lips slightly parted, like a ripe peach waiting to be picked.

Chen Feng's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. The anger he had suppressed in the bathroom suddenly surged up again, even more intensely than before.

"Sister Hong..." Chen Feng threw away the towel he was using to dry his hair and walked over with a burning gaze. "Are you testing the cadres' composure?"

Jiang Hong chuckled softly, her eyes alluring: "Didn't you say your shoulders were sore and you wanted me to serve you? What, you're scared now?"

Chen Feng walked to the edge of the couch, looking down at her with undisguised aggression in his eyes: "Sister Hong, with your figure and looks, if you were in our establishment, you would definitely be the top courtesan! Countless men would go bankrupt for you."

Although it was a compliment, it also carried a hint of the unrestrained speech typical of gangsters.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Hong's eyebrows shot up.

Although she came from a brothel and later followed Ninth Master, and is now a powerful and independent leader, she hates being seen as the kind of woman who sells smiles.

"You little bastard! You can't expect anything good to come out of a dog's mouth!"

Jiang Hong cursed, but her movements were extremely fast. She suddenly stretched out her jade hand and grabbed Chen Feng's... vital point under his bath towel.

"Hiss—" Chen Feng gasped, his body tensing instantly, too afraid to move. "Sister Hong! Sister Hong! Let go! It's going to break! That's our family heirloom!"

"Who are you calling a prostitute? Hmm?" Jiang Hong tightened her grip, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and provocation. "Only you. Anyone else would have had their legs broken!"

"I was wrong! I was wrong, Sister Hong!" Chen Feng quickly raised his hands in surrender, looking like he was begging for mercy. "You're the queen! You're the boss! I'm a gigolo! I'm the top gigolo, okay?!"

"Pfft."

Jiang Hong was amused by his shameless behavior, so she let go of his hand and slapped his leg. "You chatterbox! Get down here!"

Chen Feng chuckled and obediently lay down on the soft bed.

The sheets carried Jiang Hong's unique fragrance, the scent of a mature woman, which stirred his heart.

"Relax, your muscles are so tense, how can I massage them?"

Jiang Hong's voice sounded from behind, and then Chen Feng felt a pair of warm and soft hands touch his back.

The essential oil slid down her fingertips, leaving a warm sensation.

Jiang Hong's technique was very professional, as if she had received specialized training. Her fingers pressed firmly on the acupoints on Chen Feng's back, sometimes lightly and sometimes heavily, slowly loosening the stiff muscles.

"Mmm..." Chen Feng hummed comfortably. "Sister Hong, your skills are amazing. I'm quitting the underworld, let's open a massage parlor together."

"Dream on." Jiang Hong knelt beside Chen Feng, her body rising and falling slightly with the movements of her hands.

Her palm slid down Chen Feng's spine, from his broad back to his taut waistline. The slippery essential oil reduced friction but increased the sensitivity of his touch.

Chen Feng could clearly feel that, besides those hands, something soft occasionally brushed against his arm. It was Jiang Hong's loose hair, or... something even softer.

This kind of close yet distant contact is more agonizing than direct touching.

"You must be exhausted after a night like this?" Jiang Hong's voice softened as she gently massaged Chen Feng's temples. "You had to fight with Mad Dog, act with Iron Head, and keep an eye on Ninth Master."

"It's tiring, but it's worth it." Chen Feng closed his eyes, enjoying this rare moment of peace. "Once we get through this, half of Nancheng will be ours."

"Us?" Jiang Hong's finger paused for a moment.

"Yes, us." Chen Feng grabbed Jiang Hong's hand and kissed it. "What's mine is yours."

Jiang Hong's heart trembled slightly.

In this profit-driven circle, she had heard far too many sweet words and witnessed far too much betrayal. But for some reason, the words of this man, who was more than ten years younger than her, gave her a long-lost sense of security.

"Fool……"

Jiang Hong murmured softly and bent down.

Then, when those soft, boneless little hands, covered in warm essential oil, touched Chen Feng's back again, Chen Feng felt so comfortable that he almost cried out.

Jiang Hong did not press hard like a professional technician; her movements were gentle and ambiguous.

She knelt beside Chen Feng's hips, her hands slowly pushing down his spine. Her silk nightgown slipped down, revealing her warm, smooth thighs pressed tightly against Chen Feng's waist.

As she increased the range of motion, she almost lay flat on Chen Feng's back.

What kind of feel is that?

Two incredibly soft mounds, separated by a thin layer of silk, pressed, deformed, and slid across his back with her massage movements.

"Hiss..." Chen Feng gasped. The intense sensation from his back was a hundred times more ecstatic than direct physical contact.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Jiang Hong leaned close to his ear, her breath sweet as orchids, and deliberately licked his earlobe lightly with the tip of her tongue.

"No...it's life-threatening..." Chen Feng's voice was hoarse.

Jiang Hong chuckled, seemingly quite pleased with Chen Feng's reaction. She then straddled Chen Feng's waist, placed her hands on his shoulders, and used her body weight to slowly press down.

"Uncle Chen, are you satisfied with this force?"