The mahogany table was cold, but Stepmother Lin's skin was a furnace of panicked Pure Qi. Han Feng didn't just throw her onto the wood; he claimed the space, his shadow swallowing her elegant, midnight-blue silhouette. Outside, the world was screaming, but inside the dining hall, the only sound was the jagged, frantic hitching of the Matriarch's breath. The scent of her fear, a sharp, metallic tang mixed with the cloying sweetness of her expensive perfume, was an aphrodisiac to his senses. He could smell her arousal too, a betraying, musky bloom beneath the silk of her ruined cheongsam, the [Scent of Desire] already working its insidious magic, a testament to the poison he had so meticulously cultivated.
"You spent ten years calling me a mistake, Lin," Han Feng growled, his voice a low, vibrating frequency that made the crystal chandelier above them tremble. He stepped between her silk-clad thighs, his powerful frame eclipsing the candlelight. "Now, look at you. Kneeling on the very table where you signed away my father's life." He ran a possessive hand up her quivering thigh, his touch a brand against her skin. "This table has seen a lot of signatures, but none as satisfying as the one you're about to make."
He didn't wait for her to retort. He reached down and gripped the high slit of her cheongsam. With a single, brutal snap of his wrist, the reinforced silk hissed and tore, the sound echoing like a final judgment in the cavernous room. The fabric gave way to expose the porcelain-smooth expanse of her mature, trembling legs, the delicate lace of her stockings, and the soaked patch of her panties. The sight of her exposed vulnerability, the glistening evidence of her body's treason, made his Primal Root throb with an almost painful urgency. Lin's sharp, strangled cry was music to his ears, a sound rapidly losing its edge of defiance to a traitorous, deep-seated heat that was melting her composure from the inside out.
"Han Feng… stop… the board… the elders…" she gasped, her chest heaving against the tight bodice of her dress, the strained fabric threatening to burst under the pressure of her ragged breaths. Her Matriarch Qi was surging, a stubborn, refined energy trying to erect a barrier of ice around her core, but Han Feng's Iron Root energy was a forge hammer, crushing it like dry glass with each passing second. He could feel her spiritual defenses crumbling, turning to mist under the onslaught of his corrupted power.
"The board is irrelevant. The elders are irrelevant. The only thing that matters right now is this," he hissed, slapping the transfer papers onto the table beside her ear. He unfastened his belt with a deliberate, metallic scrape, the sound loud and obscene in the tense silence. His Primal Root sprang free, thick and pulsing with the bronze glow of the converted poison, a weapon of flesh and energy that radiated a heat that seemed to scorch the air between them. The sight of his raw, aggressive dominance made Lin's vision blur, her last bastion of resistance faltering as her Divine Crevice wept through its lace prison, the [Scent of Desire] now a heady, overwhelming perfume that filled the room and fogged her mind.
He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her firm flesh like steel talons, leaving angry red marks that would bloom into bruises by morning. He positioned himself at her entrance, the flared head of his Heavenly Pillar teasing her slick folds. "Look at me, Lin," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of terror and unwilling desire, met his. "I want you to see who is claiming you. I want you to remember this moment for the rest of your life." With that, he buried himself deep within her with a single, devastating thrust, a primal invasion that tore through her resistance and filled her completely.
Lin's scream was caught in her throat, turning into a guttural, jagged moan as she was stretched to her absolute limit. Her back arched off the table, her hands frantically searching for purchase on the smooth mahogany as she was hammered by the sheer volume of his presence. The feeling was overwhelming, a mix of searing pain and a pleasure so intense it was agonizing. She felt herself being split open, filled to the brim with his burning heat, his Primal Root hitting depths she didn't know existed. "Ahhh! Han Feng! It's too much! You're tearing me apart!" she sobbed, her body writhing beneath him, a trapped animal fighting a battle it had already lost.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Link Established: [MATRIARCH SIPHON] Active.
Current Flow: 450 Qi Units/Sec.
Refinement Progress: 15%... 30%...
"Ah… ahhh! God… you're so… so thick!" Lin sobbed, her head thrashing from side to side, her dark hair a wild halo against the polished wood. Every impact of his hips felt like a sledgehammer against her soul, a physical and spiritual violation that was breaking her down piece by piece. She felt her refined Qi—the energy she had hoarded for decades, the very essence of her power as the Matriarch—being violently pulled out of her core and into his bones. It was a total draining of her power, a spiritual reclamation that left her gasping for air, her body feeling hollow and achingly empty even as it was stuffed to the brim with his throbbing flesh.
Han Feng didn't slow down. He was a machine of rhythmic, brutal efficiency, his hips pistoning into her with a relentless force that shook the heavy table. Each withdrawal left her feeling cold and bereft, each thrust filled her with a burning heat that threatened to consume her. He reached out, shoving the pen into her shaking hand. "Sign it! Give me the company, Lin! Give me everything!" His voice was a harsh command, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust that drove the air from her lungs.
Lin tried to resist, her fingers refusing to close around the pen, but as he drove into her again, bottoming out against her core with a force that made her vision go white, her body betrayed her. Her fingers moved instinctively, wrapping around the pen. She began to scrawl her name, the letters jagged and messy, a testament to the brutal fucking she was enduring. Each stroke of the pen was timed to a thrust, a rhythmic submission that saw the Han Group's billions transferred back to the "trash" she had once mocked. The act of signing, of giving away her life's work while being ravaged, was a humiliation so profound it shattered the last remnants of her pride.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
BONE-MARROW REFINEMENT: 100%.
New Skill Unlocked: [Sovereign's Aura].
Target Lin: Spirit Broken. Status: Subjugated.
Han Feng felt the energy reach a terminal point, the last of her Matriarch Qi flowing into him, completing his transformation. He let out a low, guttural growl as he filled her with his Lust-Qi, the white-hot essence surging into her and sealing the [Slave Mark] on the small of her back. The mark burned for a moment, a final, permanent brand of his ownership. Lin collapsed onto the mahogany, her strength completely depleted, her eyes glazed with a hollow, absolute devotion. She was no longer the Matriarch, the powerful head of the Han family. She was his, body and soul, a broken vessel waiting to be filled with his will.
He stepped back, adjusting his clothes with cold, predatory efficiency. He picked up the signed papers, the ink still fresh, and tucked them into his coat. He looked down at the woman who had made his life a living hell for ten years, now a spent, trembling mess on the table, her body marked with his possession, her spirit utterly broken. A grim satisfaction settled over him, a cold, hard victory that was only the beginning of his reign. The Han Group was his, and soon, everything else would be too.