The Wicked System: Path of the Devourer Chapter 37 Commissioner Yang

The phone's speakerphone was on before Zhang Wenbin had even pressed the button hard. Yang Qiang's voice came through immediately — small and subservient.

"Master, I hope I haven't disturbed your rest."

Zhang Wenbin checked the time. Ten o'clock. For a city that didn't sleep, the night was just getting started, and for the sort of young man who kept late hours, ten was practically afternoon. Yang Qiang seemed to have assumed he was dealing with a sage-hermit type, and his voice carried a tremor of anxiety.

"Spit it out."

Zhang Wenbin grinned and sealed Xu Fei's mouth with his — she went pliant immediately, half a shudder, half a surrender. She seemed simultaneously tense and strangely excited. He kissed her for a few seconds, then caught her eye and gave a small nod.

She understood precisely. She let a slow, wicked smile spread across her face, then slinked off his lap and knelt in front of him, moving with the particular languorous grace of a woman who had decided to stop pretending. She reached for the waistband of his trousers, drew them open, and freed him.

Zhang Wenbin helped by spreading his legs and letting her work. Already half-hardening, the cock swung as it met open air.

Xu Fei gazed up at him, unashamed now. She held his length in both hands and began, lips pressing slow and tender kisses along the side, tongue working warm circles across the glans, chin tilted to keep her eyes meeting his in something that could almost be called devotion.

From above he could look directly down: a beautiful woman kneeling at his feet, the open neckline of her slip revealing full, heavy breasts swaying with every motion. It was, as a visual, entirely its own reward.

She kissed along the underside with patient focus. Again and again she circled and returned to the head, lips pressing and releasing, tongue missing nothing.

"That — Master," said Yang Qiang, tone obsequious and cautious, "I went to work today and didn't notice anything unusual, and I was just thinking — maybe it's my residence that's the problem, not the office. Would it be an imposition to trouble you to have a look? I'd hate to take up your time, but—"

Zhang Wenbin relaxed against the sofa with a comfortable exhale. "You certainly have some nerve," he said, in the languid tone of someone being very, very well attended to. "You're making me your errand boy now? All while calling me Master. You have some audacity."

Yang Qiang stumbled over his next words in a rush: "Master, please don't misunderstand — I would never presume. I'm just — I can't sleep, I'm so worried. And — well, I think of myself as your loyal dog. A useful loyal dog is worth keeping, isn't it? I can serve you. I just need you to keep me breathing first."

The grovelling hit differently with Xu Fei's lips wrapped around him. She heard every word through the speaker. Her brow pulled together slightly, and a subtle curl of contempt moved across her mouth — though she kept working. The same man who'd terrified her and lorded himself over her for years. This sniveling creature.

She glanced up at Zhang Wenbin, and something in her expression shifted — the contempt for Yang Qiang pulling a faint, involuntary clarity. Her eyes softened by contrast. She applied herself with renewed focus, tongue rolling forward in slow, deliberate passes, the look on her face going from composed to openly intoxicated.

"Sure, sure. Very nicely put."

Zhang Wenbin lifted a leg, braced his foot against the edge of the coffee table, and lay back into it. "Well then — tell me something. If I wanted to fuck your wife, would you allow it?"

The question landed, and Xu Fei trembled from spine to toes — face suddenly a complicated map of things she wasn't going to name. She kept going, but dipped lower, dragging her mouth down to finally pull that heavy, swaying sac between her lips, her hand still working the length. However dark the atmosphere — or because of it — she could feel herself beginning to burn.

Yang Qiang answered without a flicker of hesitation — if anything with something that sounded disturbingly like relief. "Master, if you want her, it would be her honor. Just say the word, I'll arrange it — I'll make sure she cooperates completely. Do what you like with her."

Perhaps afraid of being second-guessed, he added quickly: "Master's taste is impeccable. My wife trained in dance — she's flexible, she can get into all kinds of positions. She'll serve you well, I promise."

Zhang Wenbin murmured something over the phone to the woman on the other end. "Your husband's practically offering gift wrapping. How does it feel to give head while listening to him?"

Xu Fei's arousal surged. She'd worked her way down further — tongue dragging along the underside of the sac, all the way to the perineum — and said indistinctly through a haze: "He's useless trash. How could he compare with Master. I'm desperate to be actually fucked by you right now — I can barely stand it."

The honesty of it was gratifying. Zhang Wenbin redirected his attention back to the phone. "What about your daughter?"

Not a half-second of delay. "Master has an eye for quality. My daughter is the school's beauty — pretty face, filled out just like her mother, and she's developing well. If Master wants her, that's her blessing to receive."

"Young girls have their own appeal. If one isn't enough, mother and daughter together would be even better. I even have a little something I keep on hand that would make both of them practically throw themselves at you — whatever you want to do, Master, they'll beg for it."

It was difficult — almost surreal — to process that a father had just said those words.

Zhang Wenbin's expression grew quietly thoughtful.

He turned it over. Gave the assent that ended the call. "I appreciate the gesture. I'll call you later — send a car."

"Yes, yes, of course — thank you Master, thank you — just name the time and I'll have my wife delivered right to your bed—"

The line clicked.

Xu Fei's rhythm faltered by a beat, then resumed. Beneath the composure: the thinnest thread of anger.

Zhang Wenbin rested a hand on her head and asked conversationally, "Yang Leguo isn't his biologically, is she."

Xu Fei hesitated a moment, then gave a small nod, eyes gone somewhere private. "That's right. He knew from the beginning. The thing I'm most afraid of right now is what he might be planning for Guoguo."

"He knew?" Zhang Wenbin's interest sharpened.

Yang Qiang hadn't struck him as the type to quietly absorb that kind of humiliation. That his wife had borne another man's child and he'd just — accepted it — didn't compute.

Xu Fei looked down, something like shame moving across her face. "I'd just started working. We were married — or barely married — when a senior official noticed me. Yang Qiang arranged it directly. Slipped something in my drink and sent me to that man's room."

"Ambitious," Zhang Wenbin observed. "So his career — the posting he has now — that's tied to what he sold you for."

"Yes." She said it without drama. "The official was old — he wasn't really still capable. I don't even remember being touched. When I came around, it barely felt like anything had happened."

"Then I turned out to be pregnant. The doctor said with my condition, it was better not to terminate — the chance I'd conceive again would be significantly reduced. So I kept her."

What a wreck human beings make of each other. Zhang Wenbin let the weight of it sit for a moment before asking, "And Yang Qiang just — agreed to let you keep her?"

"He didn't have a say. That official took an interest in the pregnancy — sent gifts, was involved in a way that was pure ego. Some men just want proof they can still do it. Yang Qiang was a junior official then; he wouldn't have dared contradict the man. He was there at the birth. Extremely attentive. More than he ever was for anything actually ours."

She continued — voice level, almost analytical: "He's always been willing to sacrifice anything for rank. He raised another man's child for years and kept the performance going. But he never had any real interest in me after that — I think just looking at me made him sick. Once he had enough power and money he surrounded himself with women elsewhere. I have no idea how many there are, or how many children. Probably several."

Xu Fei gave a small, tired smile. "Master, it's a fairly ugly story, isn't it? You're only the second man to have ever touched me. The first wasn't even my husband."

She'd been a family arrangement — married to Yang Qiang with very little courtship, nothing improper before the wedding. Her wedding night was stolen before she was conscious. An old man, past his prime, but apparently still capable of once — and apparently that once was all it took to leave her with a daughter. He'd never sought her out again. Clearly had some other purpose in mind, some private vanity in knowing the seed had taken.

Zhang Wenbin let himself think about that for a beat. Then said aloud: "He was getting old but still wanted proof he could. And that's that."

"After he died a few years ago, Yang Qiang dropped the pretense. He had everything he'd wanted. With women lined up wherever he went, he stopped even maintaining appearances at home. He only comes by occasionally if there's some public function requiring a wife. Mostly I think I genuinely repel him. As long as he keeps sending money and stays out of our lives, I've made my peace."

Xu Fei said it steadily, though her eyes had gone faintly bright. Something old and sharp lived in the set of her jaw.

Zhang Wenbin rose. "All right. Help me put my trousers back on."

She resumed her kneeling posture and helped him dress. Her fingers were careful, patient.

She had something left to say. She bit it down for a moment — then let it out: "The reason I decided to kill him — this year he's been different. Coming around the flat more. Asking after Guoguo. Paying particular attention to her."

"When someone acts like that without cause, it's never good. Whether he's developed some kind of revenge interest in my daughter, or whether he's thinking of using her to buy favor with someone above him — either way I won't allow it."