Bali and Tuxi dragged the old man away.

The underground chamber was thick with the pungent smell of blood.

Vio frowned in disgust, about to turn and leave, when his footsteps suddenly halted.

He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the row of torture instruments hanging on the wall.

Finally, his eyes settled on the silver metal handcuffs.

As Vio looked at the cuffs, a vivid image of that woman suddenly came to mind.

He recalled the day on the ship, when she stood atop the auction platform, bathed in the spotlight, her body bound by red ropes.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Boss?”

Bali’s voice came from behind him.

Having finished with the old man, Bali returned, rubbing his nose and taking a deep breath.

“Where are we going tonight?”

He asked, his gaze following the boss’s line of sight to the row of torture tools on the wall, then returning to meet the boss’s eyes.

After a moment,

Vio spoke: “That auctioneer on Old Gui’s ship.”

Bali waited for more.

“Take them out.”

Vio raised a hand, as if lost in thought. After a pause, he continued, “Also check those who change the slaves’ clothes on the ship—

including the inspectors—are they all men?”

As he spoke, he walked over and took down the pair of silver metal handcuffs from the wall.

Vio held them in his hand and gave them a light shake; the metal clinked crisply.

He didn’t look at Bali, but stepped past him and headed for the door.

“If so, take them all out too.”

Bali stood frozen, his eyes tracking the boss’s retreating figure as the handcuffs swayed in his hand.

“…Yes.”

Vio got into the car. The backseat door closed.

Bali went around to the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the car roared to life, speeding out into the desert.

No sooner had they turned onto the main road than a voice came from the backseat: “I’ve got something for you.”

After dinner, Aunt Maria was just about to clear the table.

Qin Qinxi immediately stood up to help.

Although Aunt Maria was a hired domestic worker, she was the only person in this unfamiliar place, in this strange house, with whom Qin could really talk.

She treated Maria like a friend.

Yet Maria always remained very polite toward her.

“Qinxixi, you go get some rest. I can handle it myself.”

“No problem, you can’t manage everything on your own,” Qin Qinxi replied, picking up the bowls and plates and heading toward the kitchen.

Maria truly liked Qin Qinxi. But she always kept her status firmly in mind.

She was a hired worker, while Qin Qinxi belonged to Mr. Weiao—her master.

This was the first time she’d ever met such an unpretentious master: one who wouldn’t call her “Miss,” but instead used her nickname, and even volunteered to help her with chores.

This girl seemed exactly the kind of well-brought-up, sensible, obedient young lady.

“Are your parents here?” Maria asked as she wiped the table.

Qin Qinxi’s nose suddenly felt stinging.

Parents…

She missed them—so much.

Though she was already twenty, she hadn’t experienced much at all.

Being kidnapped to a place like this and going through all these things was simply not the kind of life she should be facing.

Qin Qinxi had never imagined she’d have to endure any of this—and she even felt rather pathetic, easily reduced to tears.

“My parents are in China…” She lowered her head, her voice soft, “I’m Chinese.”

Maria looked at her, her eyes filled with a touch of sympathy.

“So you came here for Mr. Weiao?”

That was what Maria thought.

Perhaps this young girl had left her homeland and come all the way to the Middle East for love.

Just as Qin Qinxi was about to explain, the doorbell rang.

Maria wiped her hands and went to answer it.

The door opened, and Bali stood there.

Dressed all in black, his face expressionless, as cold as ever.

End of Chapter 38: Chapter 38