Chapter 109: Song Jingyan's Dependency on Wang Li

Two days after the vote, Wang Li entered Song Jingyan's chambers, a communication talisman clutched in his hand. "News from the Xia Family," he announced, his voice devoid of emotion as always.

Song Jingyan's heart leaped in her chest. Any news, any shred of information about her husband and son, was more valuable than gold. "What is it?" she pressed, her voice trembling slightly.

"Acting Matriarch Xia has discovered possible traces of the demonic gang responsible for the attack," Wang Li explained. "She has dispatched a team of their top experts to apprehend them and hopefully locate the missing Song delegation."

A glimmer of hope flickered in Song Jingyan's eyes. This was the first concrete lead they had received. "And... what else?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Wang Li smirked, the movement hidden behind his mask. "She will keep you updated via communication talisman," he said. "Rest assured, Madam Song, the Xia Family will leave no stone unturned in their search."

Song Jingyan nodded, a silent gratitude welling within her.

The next day arrived, and with it, another communication talisman delivered by a swift messenger. However, this one came directly from Xia Qingwu. With a touch of her essence, Song Jingyan activated the talisman, and a holographic image flickered to life.

Xia Qingwu, her usually composed demeanor etched with a touch of grimness, appeared before Song Jingyan. "Matriarch Song," she began, her voice filled with a forced sense of empathy, "I bear news regarding the demonic gang."

Song Jingyan's breath caught in her throat. "Go on..." she choked out, her eyes glued to the wavering image.

"My Xia Family cultivators encountered the gang members in a fierce battle. Unfortunately, the demons fought with a ferocity we hadn't anticipated. In the ensuing chaos, some of our cultivators were forced to utilize... lethal measures." Xia Qingwu's gaze seemed to flicker away for a moment, a flicker of deception hidden beneath the surface.

"Tragically," she continued, her voice dropping to a somber tone, "all of the demonic gang members perished. However, upon searching their hideout, we discovered... disturbing evidence."

The image shifted, revealing a gruesome scene – dismembered human remains, some partially consumed. Song Jingyan's stomach lurched, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

"It pains me to inform you, Matriarch Song," Xia Qingwu continued, "that amongst these remains we found a ring." The image zoomed in on a hand adorned with a ring.

It was a simple gold ring, etched with a symbol depicting a ravenous rat. Song Jingyan's world lurched. Recognition slammed into her with the force of a thunderbolt. That ring... it belonged to Song Weiguang, a personal token he always wore.

The blood drained from her face, leaving behind a horrifying certainty.

Her husband, her son... all those who accompanied them... were gone.

As the holographic image faded, Song Jingyan slumped to the floor, a wave of grief threatening to consume her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent.

He turned to face her, the glint in his eyes, unseen beneath the mask, sending a shiver down her spine. "Your loyalty pleases me, Song Jingyan. However, the assistance I need lie in a different area."

He leaned closer, his voice a low whisper. "If Ye Fan seeks an audience, under the pretense of discussing the alliance, refuse him. No meetings, no communication."

Song Jingyan nodded, understanding sinking in. This was the first step, isolating Ye Fan and preventing him from gaining any leverage.

"Furthermore," he continued, his voice laced with a cunning edge, "rumors are powerful tools. We need to turn the tide of public opinion against him."

Her brow furrowed. "Rumors? But what kind?"

A sly smile, invisible beneath the mask, played on his lips. "We need to paint him in a unfavorable light. Spread whispers of his... indulgences. Make it seem as though power and carnal pleasures are his true pursuits, not righteousness."

Song Jingyan scoffed, a hint of defiance flickering in her voice. "Indulgences? That description fits you more than Ye Fan, considering..."

Before she could finish her sentence, a sharp smack reverberated in the room. Wang Li had struck her backside, the sting momentarily silencing her.

"Don't be insolent," he growled, a hint of anger flickering in his masked eyes. "You seduced me, Song Jingyan. Don't pretend otherwise. Focus on the task at hand."

Song Jingyan's breath hitched at the unexpected blow. Shame and a strange sense of arousal warred within her. She let out a low moan, a sound tinged with pain and something else entirely.

"Fine," she whispered, her voice husky with a mixture of emotions. "I understand."

Later that night, as the moon cast its silvery glow on the Song Family mansion, Wang Li found himself in Song Jingyan's chambers.

Grief, betrayal, and a twisted form of desire swirled within her, creating a volatile mixture. A raw, primal desire consumed the two of them.

Wang Li tore at her clothes, his touch a whirlwind of fire and ice. Her sobs, muffled against his chest, were a twisted symphony of surrender.

He conquered her with a ferocity that bordered on brutality, leaving a trail of bite marks and hickies that mapped her pale skin. He reveled in her moans, the only sounds that rivaled the ragged gasps escaping his own lips. When the storm finally subsided, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies a testament to the passion and pain that intertwined their destinies.

As dawn painted the sky, casting a weak light through the window, Wang Li finally pulled away. He gazed at Song Jingyan, her face flushed and hair disheveled, a picture of vulnerability and defiance.

"Remember, Song Jingyan," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against her ear, "our fates are intertwined. Together, we will destroy Ye Fan and achieve what we desire."

Song Jingyan met his gaze, a storm brewing within her. Was she a grieving widow, a cunning conspirator, or simply a woman caught in the web of a powerful cultivator? The lines had blurred beyond recognition. With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, she simply nodded.