The internal struggle to remain a "green flag" completely evaporated. The sociopathic, homicidal monster beneath his ice didn't roar in anger. It wept tears of pure, euphoric joy.
He had been holding back his rage for twenty hours. He had been suppressing his absolute zero aura. He had been playing the polite, benevolent gentleman because he didn't want to slaughter innocent maidens and upset his Chef.
But Hu Yanlie and Mo Wuchen?
They were not innocent maidens. They were aggressive, toxic, and durable male protagonists who had actively provoked him and obsessed over the one person he loved.
They were not off-limits.
They were a socially acceptable outlet for his homicidal rage.
'Thank you, Heavens,' Wangchen's internal monologue wept with gratitude, the ruby light in his eyes flaring into a blinding, apocalyptic crimson. 'I finally get to hit something.'
