Chapter 58: A Failed Disguise

“Heh… Hehehe, I want Master… Give it to me, heh…”

Pinned beneath Murong Fanghua on the mattress, Ye Feng wore a hollow, dazed expression, letting out mindless, foolish giggles.

In this state, he had been reduced entirely to a helpless creature driven purely by raw, unrestrained desire.

Murong Fanghua gazed down at her handiwork with immense satisfaction. To completely break a man and reshape him into such a pliable state was a profound point of pride for a woman of her stature.

The two became entangled, yielding to each other until Ye Feng finally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Only then did Murong Fanghua cease.

Carrying him into the adjoining bathroom, she bathed him thoroughly before holding him close as they fell asleep.

Early the next morning, Ye Feng was the first to open his eyes. Just like before, he made no sound or sudden movement, remaining motionlessly asleep until Murong Fanghua quietly departed.

The moment the bedchamber door clicked shut, he bolted upright and reached beneath the bed frame to retrieve the hidden smartphone.

Checking the top corner, his heart sank—the battery was down to 20%.

He let out a shaky sigh of relief. If the device had died completely, his gamble would have been a total failure. Swiping up on the screen, he stopped the active recording session and immediately initiated playback.

At first, the audio picked up only faint rustling fabrics and muffled breathing. As the recording progressed, explicit sounds filled the quiet room, though no spoken words were audible yet. After a tense pause, a voice finally echoed from the small speaker.

“Master…”

That single word sent a violent shudder straight down Ye Feng’s spine. The voice sounded agonizingly familiar yet terrifyingly foreign—it was unmistakably his own voice, yet delivering words he would never, under any circumstances, utter himself.

Forcing his racing mind to stay grounded, Ye Feng continued listening. But the further the recording progressed, the deeper his horror and rage grew, causing his whole body to tremble uncontrollably.

Listening to the humiliating, breathy whimpers coming from the phone—sounding no different from a vulgar video—Ye Feng reached his absolute breaking point and slammed the pause button.

“Hah… Hah… Hah…”

He gasped frantically for air, trying to stabilize his hyperventilating chest, but the sudden oxygen did nothing to soothe his terror. If anything, it only amplified the visceral panic knotting his stomach.

Why did I act like that? Why don’t I have a single shred of memory from those moments? That person wasn’t me at all!

Ye Feng clutched his head with both hands, eyes wide with sheer horror of the unknown.

He slowly looked down at his visibly rounded stomach. If he had truly been unconscious for a whole month, then the entity controlling his physical body during that entire void of time was… another version of himself!

Who is he?!

Gradually, the raw fear in Ye Feng’s eyes morphed into a dark, simmering rage.

If that secondary personality completely swallowed him up one day, what would become of his existence? Would he even be considered alive?

He refused to be erased. He refused to be replaced. He wanted to live!

No matter who or what that entity was—stealing his body, stealing his life… that intruder had no right to exist!

At the very least, he had established one crucial rule: only that specific audio track could force him into that passive “sleep” state. As long as he avoided that sound, the other entity couldn’t surface to take over.

I have to run. I have to escape this place immediately, or I’m going to die here!

If all Murong Fanghua truly desired was that obedient, mindless version of him, then his conscious self was entirely disposable. Even if she didn’t outright kill him, he would be locked away in permanent slumber, never allowed to wake up again.

He had to escape. He had to get away from Murong Fanghua at all costs.

But how? Especially while carrying this child…

That was the ultimate, glaring obstacle.

Ye Feng stared down at the smartphone in his hand, realizing he had no choice but to use it to forge a way out. At this stage, failure meant complete oblivion anyway—if he couldn’t break free, he would rather die than let that stranger steal his identity.

His expression hardened into pure desperation.

However, before executing any escape attempt, Ye Feng had one immediate, non-negotiable hurdle to clear: he had to fake his way through the evening.

He could not afford to let that entity take control of his body ever again, which meant he had to fool Murong Fanghua himself.

Suppressing a wave of intense nausea, Ye Feng restarted the recording. He studied every single word, analyzing the precise inflection, pitch, and servile tone of that other persona.

Perhaps because the other personality had inhabited the body for so long, Ye Feng’s vocal cords retained a strange muscle memory. After practicing for a short while, his imitation already carried a striking 70 to 80 percent resemblance.

Yet alongside a brief flicker of relief, a cold dread washed over him. Am I slowly becoming him? The terrifying thought only cemented his absolute resolve to break free.

Throughout the afternoon, Ye Feng practiced relentlessly, yet he continually felt an crucial element was missing.

His underlying emotions were completely wrong. Deep down, he harbored nothing but intense hatred for Murong Fanghua, whereas that other persona felt nothing but absolute adoration and blind submission toward her. That fundamental divide was something no superficial vocal mimicry could fully bridge.

Still, he had no alternative except to keep practicing, forcing himself to inhabit the role as deeply as possible.

Time waited for no one. His window for preparation rapidly evaporated, and as dusk settled over the palace, his anxiety spiked to an unbearable high.

Late that night, Murong Fanghua concluded her administrative tasks and returned to her private quarters. She pushed the door open, a soft smile adorning her face.

The moment she stepped inside, her eyes landed on Ye Feng sitting upright on the bed. He was offering her a forced smile, looking as though he wanted to speak but hesitated.

In an instant, the warmth vanished from Murong Fanghua’s face. Panic flickered in her eyes as her gaze instinctively darted toward the nightstand.

“Mas… ter…”

The word “Master” stumbled clumsily off Ye Feng’s tongue. Even though he had rehearsed the line hundreds of times in solitude, facing Murong Fanghua in the flesh shattered his composure.

Hearing his awkward delivery, Murong Fanghua slowly closed her eyes.

A heavy, agonizing silence fell over the room. After a long moment, a radiant, deliberate smile bloomed across her face once more as she walked slowly toward him.

“My sweet boy… did you miss me?”

“I… missed you…”

“Master missed you so much, too!”

The corner of Ye Feng’s mouth twitched into an excruciatingly strained smile.

As Murong Fanghua leaned close, she could distinctly hear his rapid, irregular heartbeat—racing just as frantically as her own.

“Ngh!”

Ye Feng’s eyes snapped wide. An instinctive urge to fight back surged through him, but a pair of strong arms locked around his torso, pinning him violently against the mattress.

At that moment, the facade shattered completely. Ye Feng possessed no acting talent, nor did he have the emotional discipline to suppress his true feelings. He was, ultimately, just an ordinary person pushed far beyond his limit.

“Get off me!”

“Don’t touch me! Get away!”

“No!”

“You liar! You bastard, get off!”

Murong Fanghua offered no verbal response; her overwhelming force spoke for her.

Tears spilled from the corners of Ye Feng’s eyes. A wave of suffocating humiliation and bitter resentment overwhelmed him. Why? Why can’t I control my own fate? Why am I constantly violated and stripped of dignity?!

He couldn’t endure it any longer. He had to fight back—he had to resist!

Yet the ultimate result of his resistance was merely being lifted and repositioned directly above her by those unyielding hands.

Though the dynamic had physically shifted, he remained the one entirely subject to her pleasure.

Refusing to accept such a meaningless defeat, Ye Feng began to move on his own accord, desperately trying to assert control over his own body.

Murong Fanghua looked up at him in brief surprise. Then, a genuinely dark, satisfied smile curled her lips.

Her mood had been dreadful all evening—but at this exact moment, she felt thoroughly thrilled.

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