Chapter Nine: Total Surrender
It was over.
Every ounce of pride, every shred of discipline, every last thread of control the heroines had clung to was gone. They were broken—not by touch, not by force, not by anyone in the physical world—but by memory, by obsession, by Li Chen's invisible dominion over their bodies, their minds, and their very souls.
Yue Ling collapsed to her knees in her chamber, robes loose, hair falling into her flushed face. She shivered uncontrollably, trembling like a ragdoll, moaning low and helplessly. Every nerve in her body ached with desire she could not satisfy, every pulse screamed for him, and every soft, gasping sound was a surrender she could not reclaim. She had tried, oh how she had tried, to push it away, to reclaim herself, to be someone else. But she was nothing now. Nothing but a trembling, moaning, desperate shell of a woman, a whore to her own craving, enslaved to a ghost she could never touch.
"Fuck… why… why does it still hurt like this?" she whispered to herself, tears dripping down her cheeks, shivering, moaning again as the heat pooled and coursed through her. Her body betrayed her completely. Every shiver, every tremble, every pathetic moan screamed her surrender, screamed that she was his—his in mind, in flesh, in everything.
---
Mei Xin's chamber echoed with the soft, helpless moans of surrender.
She had tried to pretend she could resist, tried to distract herself with cultivation, tried to fill the emptiness with other men, but every attempt only reminded her that she was nothing but a slave to memory. Her hands shook as she pressed them to her chest, covering her flushed face, moaning softly at the heat that had taken over her body. She leaned forward instinctively, knees trembling, hair falling over her flushed skin, utterly helpless.
"I'm such a fucking whore…" she whispered between shaky breaths, moaning again involuntarily. "I can't… I can't stop… it's him… it's always him…"
Her words were vulgar, raw, and unflinching—the truth of her surrender. Every gasp, every shiver, every trembling moan confirmed that she had been claimed, owned, and reduced to obsession. She was his, and she had no choice but to accept it.
---
Fen Xian had lost everything.
Her spine arched involuntarily, heat flooding her skin, body trembling, knees weak. She pressed her hands against her thighs, shivering as moans escaped despite herself. Every nerve screamed with memory, every pulse throbbed with obsession, every gasp betrayed her helplessness. She had tried to maintain discipline, tried to maintain control, tried to keep her pride intact—but it had all shattered.
"I'm such a fucking slut… a pathetic little whore…" she hissed, voice trembling, cheeks flushed, body shivering under the weight of memory. Every moan, every shiver, every gasp was a surrender she could not resist, a confession she could not take back. She had become nothing but a slave to craving, a vessel for obsession, and there was no returning.
---
And so it went for all ten of them.
Across lands and sects, every heroine trembled, moaned, flushed, and surrendered. Every man they had encountered, every substitute they had sought, was meaningless. Every whisper, every touch, every gesture had only cemented their chains, driven them deeper into helpless obsession. They were mentally and emotionally enslaved, whores not in action but in mind, body, and spirit. Every pulse, every shiver, every gasp testified to the truth: Li Chen had claimed them fully, utterly, irreversibly.
They shivered in shame, moaned at the helplessness, and surrendered again and again, as if their bodies remembered only him. They had opened themselves completely, kneeling in invisible chains of craving, guilt, and obsession, moaning low and helplessly at every memory that surged through them.
They were broken.
They were his.
---
Yue Ling pressed her face into her hands, shivering, gasping, moaning softly. She had opened herself entirely to memory, to craving, to obsession. Every nerve, every pulse, every shiver screamed her surrender. She had become a trembling, helpless whore to her own flesh, enslaved to a ghost she could never reach.
Mei Xin trembled on her cushions, cheeks flushed, breath shallow, moaning low and helplessly. Every inch of her body was alive with memory, every shiver a confession, every soft gasp a surrender. She was his, and she had no control. She was a slave of obsession, a whore of memory, completely undone.
Fen Xian pressed her trembling hands to her thighs, moaning softly, knees shaking, heat coursing through her. Shame and desire coiled together so tightly she could barely breathe, yet she leaned further into it, moaning helplessly at every sensation that reminded her of him. She was utterly broken, owned by craving, enslaved to memory, and she knew it.
---
All ten heroines had reached the same final point:
Kneeling, trembling, flushed, and moaning at their own helplessness.
Mind and body enslaved to memory, craving, and obsession.
Pride, discipline, and control shattered.
Completely and irreversibly addicted to the ghost of Li Chen, moaning at their own surrender, whispering vulgar confessions of their helpless state.
They were total, irreversibly dominated. Their surrender was complete. Their obsession was all-consuming. Their shame and guilt only heightened every shiver, every gasp, every moan.
They had become whores in mind, body, and soul, and there was no turning back.
---
Li Chen, far away, remained unaware of the full scale of his conquest.
And yet, through invisible threads of obsession, he could feel them trembling, shivering, moaning, flushed with heat, kneeling in helpless surrender. Every gasp, every moan, every tremor of flesh and mind answered to him. Every confession of helplessness, every vulgar whisper of surrender, every moan in memory confirmed their total enslavement.
They were undone.
They were enslaved.
They were his—in every thought, every nerve, every shiver, every pulse, every trembling moan.
And he had claimed them all.
Without touching them.
Without speaking.
Without appearing.
Total. Irreversible. Complete.