After chatting for a few minutes, they realized it wasn’t time to start making the wine yet—they needed to fetch their tools first. So the leader turned to two of the other monsters, his voice low and commanding: "Go get the tools for the beauty wine—hurry up, and don’t make a sound. If you wake her up, I’ll skin you alive!" The two monsters nodded frantically, too scared to argue, and snuck out of the hot spring area as quietly as they’d come. The leader stayed behind with the third monster, his eyes fixed on Jieyou and Miss Jiu, his body tensed, ready to pounce if either of them woke up.

  It didn’t take long for the two monsters to hurry back, their arms loaded with a pile of terrifying tools: large, dented wine jars caked with dried residue (obviously used many times before), a smooth, dark agarwood cutting board, an extremely sharp kitchen knife with a gleaming blade that still had a faint trace of dried blood on it, and a bunch of random blunt tools and ironware—hammers, pliers, and even a rusty saw. Every single one of these tools was stained with the blood of innocent victims, a chilling reminder of how many girls had met a terrible fate at their hands.

  The two monsters put down the tools with a soft thud, then hurried over to the hot spring. They stretched out their fuzzy, clawed hands, moving carefully but quickly—one grabbed Jieyou’s arm, his claws digging slightly into her soft skin, while the other grabbed her feet, lifting her gently out of the water. They were being surprisingly careful, not because they felt any sympathy for her, but because they were afraid of scratching her skin—any damage would ruin the taste of the beauty wine, and they didn’t want to waste such a "perfect" ingredient.

  They carried her over to the agarwood cutting board and placed her down gently, her body still limp from sleep and alcohol. The cutting board was smooth and delicate, polished to a shine from years of use, and it emitted a faint, pleasant agarwood fragrance that masked the faint smell of blood. From the deep, faint cuts and stains on the surface, it was clear that this cutting board had been used countless times before—this wasn’t the first time these monsters had kidnapped a young girl to make their terrible wine.

  The leader walked over to the cutting board, his eyes fixed on Jieyou’s sleeping face, a sinister smile spreading across his lips. He reached out his fuzzy hand, his rough fingers brushing against her arm, feeling her soft, smooth skin. His voice was low and greedy, almost a purr: "Little girl, you’re lucky. You drank our knockout wine and soaked in our enchanted spring—when we kill you, you won’t feel a single thing. Be good and turn into our beauty wine, and you’ll finally be useful. Think of it as repaying us for the warm spring and the good wine we gave you!"

  Jieyou’s arm was snow-white, smooth as the finest mutton-fat jade, still damp with the warm spring water, making it feel soft and slippery to the touch. The leader’s eyes grew even greedier, his smile more sinister, as he ran his fingers up and down her arm, savoring the feel of her skin—like he was already imagining how she’d taste in his wine.

  "Only one little flaw," he muttered, pinching her chest lightly with his claws, his voice a mix of regret and greed. "Her chest is a bit small—looks like she’s still a kid, not fully grown. But hey, that’s okay—younger flesh is tenderer, juicier, and it’ll make the wine taste even better. Perfect." As he spoke, he reached down, picked up the sharp kitchen knife, and raised it high above his head, the blade glinting coldly in the dim light.

  That knife was incredibly sharp, sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone like butter, and the faint trace of blood on the blade was a grim reminder of all the lives it had taken. It hung high in the air, catching the light, and a bitter, cold wind swirled around it as the leader got ready to strike.

  The knife swung down fiercely toward Jieyou’s neck, moving so fast it was just a blur. One single strike, and her head would be chopped off, her body reduced to nothing more than ingredients for their sickening wine. This was it—her life was about to end, and she had no idea.

  But at that critical, life-or-death moment, the sleeping Jieyou seemed to feel the cold, deadly aura of the knife. She twisted her body unconsciously, tilting her head slightly to the side—and that tiny, accidental movement was enough to save her life. The knife slammed into the cutting board with a loud, sharp "thud," missing her neck by just a hair’s breadth, leaving a deep gash in the wood.

  "Damao, what the hell are you dawdling for?!" one of the other monsters snapped impatiently, his voice filled with eagerness and frustration. "Hurry up and kill her! If you wait any longer, her vitality will fade, and the wine won’t taste as good! We’ve been waiting for a perfect ingredient like her for months!"

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  So the leader’s name was Damao, and the other three were his brothers—Ermao, Sanmao, and Simao. The four of them had grown up together in the mountains, cultivating dark magic and doing evil wherever they went. Kidnapping young girls to make beauty wine was their favorite hobby, their obsession—and over the years, countless innocent girls had died at their hands, their lives cut short in the most terrible way.

  Damao glared at Ermao fiercely, his eyes filled with anger and irritation. "Shut the hell up!," he snapped, his voice loud enough to make the other monsters flinch. "I’m trying not to scratch her—do you want to ruin the wine? One more word, and I’ll throw you to the beasts first, and you can be their dinner instead!"

  Ermao shrank back in fear, quickly closing his mouth and hanging his head. He knew better than to anger Damao—out of the four brothers, Damao was the strongest, the cruelest, and the most unpredictable. If he got angry, he’d kill without hesitation, even his own brothers. So Ermao stayed quiet, his body trembling with fear, not daring to say another word.

  Damao snorted coldly, yanking the knife out of the cutting board with a sharp "squeak." He raised it high again, his eyes fixed on Jieyou’s neck, his expression cold and determined. This time, he didn’t hesitate—he calculated the angle perfectly, making sure he wouldn’t miss again. Even if Jieyou twisted her body again, there was no way she could dodge this strike. It was over.

  But just as the knife was about to hit her neck, a bright white light suddenly shot out of Jieyou’s arms, moving so fast it was almost invisible. It slammed into Damao’s wrist with all its strength, a tiny but powerful force that caught him completely off guard. That white light was none other than Miss Jiu—she’d woken up just in time, and when she saw Damao trying to hurt her master, she didn’t hesitate to charge forward, using every bit of her tiny strength to stop him. She might be small, but she was fierce, and she’d never let anyone hurt Jieyou.

  It didn’t take long for the two monsters to hurry back, carrying a pile of things: large and small wine jars, a smooth cutting board, an extremely sharp kitchen knife (with a faint trace of blood on the blade), and a bunch of random blunt tools and ironware. Clearly, these were their usual tools for making beauty wine—each one stained with the blood of innocent victims.

  The two monsters put down the tools, walked quickly to the hot spring, and stretched out their fuzzy hands. One grabbed Jieyou’s arm, the other her feet, and together they carefully lifted her out of the water and placed her gently on the smooth cutting board. They were being careful not to scratch her skin—afraid it would ruin the taste of the beauty wine.

  The cutting board was made of agarwood, smooth and delicate, emitting a faint, pleasant fragrance—obviously specially prepared for making beauty wine. From the marks on it, it was clear they’d done this terrible thing many times before.

  The leader walked over to the cutting board, staring at the sleeping Jieyou with a sinister smile. He reached out his fuzzy hand and stroked her arm greedily, saying, "Little girl, you’re lucky. You drank our knockout wine and soaked in our enchanted spring. When you die later, you won’t feel a thing. Be good and turn into beauty wine to repay us for the hot spring and the wine!"

  Jieyou’s arm was snow-white, smooth as jade, still damp with spring water. It felt soft and slippery, like the finest mutton-fat jade. The leader’s eyes grew even greedier, his smile more sinister.

  "Only downside is her chest is a bit small—looks like she’s not fully grown yet. But that’s okay, the meat will be tenderer, and the beauty wine will taste even better." The leader pinched Jieyou’s chest, his voice a mix of regret and greed. As he spoke, he picked up the kitchen knife and raised it high.

  The knife was extremely sharp, glinting with a cold light, and there was still a trace of blood on the blade—proof it had taken countless lives.

  The knife hung high, cutting through the air with a bitter chill, swinging down fiercely toward Jieyou’s neck. One strike, and she’d be decapitated, becoming nothing more than ingredients for their beauty wine.

  At that critical moment, the sleeping Jieyou seemed to feel the bitter cold. She twisted her body unconsciously, tilting her head slightly—and that accidental movement made her narrowly dodge the fatal strike.

  "Damao, what are you dawdling for? Hurry up! If you wait any longer, the girl’s vitality will fade, and the beauty wine won’t taste as good!" one of the monsters urged impatiently, his voice filled with eagerness.

  So the leader’s name was Damao, and the other three were Ermao, Sanmao, and Simao—four brothers who’d grown up in the mountains, cultivating together and doing evil together. Their favorite thing was kidnapping young girls to make beauty wine, and over the years, countless innocent girls had died at their hands.

  Annoyed by Ermao’s urging, Damao glared at him fiercely and snapped, "What’s the rush? I’m trying not to scratch her—don’t you dare rush me again, or I’ll feed you to the beasts first!"

  Scolded by Damao, Ermao fell silent immediately, hanging his head in fear. Among the four brothers, Damao was the strongest and the most irritable. If you angered him, he’d kill you without hesitation.

  Damao snorted coldly, raised the knife again, and stared at Jieyou with cold eyes. This time, he didn’t hesitate—he swung the knife down fiercely toward her neck again, calculating the angle perfectly. Even if Jieyou twisted again, she couldn’t dodge this time.

  But just as the knife was about to hit her neck, a white light suddenly shot out of Jieyou’s arms, slamming into Damao’s wrist with all its strength. That white light was none other than the sleeping Miss Jiu. She’d woken up somehow, and when she saw Damao trying to hurt Jieyou, she rushed forward without hesitation, doing her best to stop him.