How To Polish A Pearl

Chapter 1 - Culling

Author's note:

This is my version of a Ghost Valley wedding, TXJ style. The journey will take us exploring in the illusive Ghost Valley as our heroine is 'kidnaped' and married off to the Guzhu .

⊂ (▀▿▀) つ

Disclaimer: This fanfic is explicit and includes non-con, gore and violence. If this is something you are uncomfortable reading, please stop here. Don't force yourself.

For the rest of you – this how to guide unfortunately does not include a hot guy for you to practice pearl polishing with.

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"Do you think we got enough of them for him to choose from?" The head of prison guards is pacing nervously back and forth between the rows of cages, looking quite tiny against the backdrop of towering bars. "You know what peculiar taste he has."

Turning around for the nth time, he moves closer to scrutinize the bodies of the captives, involuntarily wincing at the smell of bowel fluids and blood. "Why does he want a bride anyway? He can just have all of these in a harem. Why does he need to marry one of them?"

The captives are strapped so hard against the corroded bars they are, in essence, held upright by the barbed wired chains digging into the flesh on their chest and neck. Any thoughts of screaming, begging, or bargaining for mercy has long left their thoughts. Having not seen any form of daylight since they entered the prison of the Ghost Valley, a place that gives new meaning to hell, most have lost track of time as they drift in and out of consciousness.

The only way to distinguish how long the captives have been there is by how far along their wounds have healed, the skin sealing itself in self-defense around the assaulting material. Some looking like barbed wire is growing out from their chest, like vines breaking free from the ground, whilst others are raw with the flesh still bleeding.

"We have filled every single cage here, there has to be hundreds of them." The second in command stands at the entrance waiting for their Guzhu (1) to descend, eyes anxiously bolting from one face to the next. "Surely one of them will be good enough? He likes them pretty. We searched every brothel in this land getting all these powdered beauties. Last week, I even grabbed that extra one coming back from..."

The guard is cut short by slender fingers wrapping firmly around his neck, snapping it like a twig before he can even react to the merciless touch. As the body goes limp, the hand holds it effortlessly still in its grasp, lifting it slightly above the ground.

"What extra one?" Turning around the head of the guards sees his second in command dangling lifeless in the hand of the newly 'appointed' Guigu Guzhu – Wen Ke Xing. Throwing himself down, bowing so deep he is breathing in the blood and dirt that has long soiled the earth, he whimpers, "Guzhu".

The Guigu Guzhu drops the dead ghost with a thud, not even sparing it a glance, and steps over it. His burgundy red silk robe, almost radiant as it slides over the white and lifeless face of the ghost.

"Line them up." Arrogantly, Wen Ke Xing picks up a few walnuts from within his long, draping sleeve and starts to roll them in his right palm, back and forth, almost caressing them as he feels the outline of the shells. "And strip them."

The head of the guard crawls to a standing position, barking orders at his subordinates so fast his saliva is left hanging off his chin. High pitch noises of metal against metal echoes as the gates are yanked open with unnecessary force. Muffled sounds of moans and gasps, as the chains are mercilessly ripped free from their bodies, are drowned beneath the hurried steps and dragging sounds.

Wen Ke Xing watches the worker ants line up his bridal offerings with what's left of their clothes now completely torn and thrown in piles on the ground, waves of fresh sticky blood reaching his nostrils. Had it been possible, the scene before him would have turned his eyes darker. The exposed naked flesh, the fear oozing from every drop of cold sweat, the scent of blood so thick he can almost taste it. He licks his lips and keeps them slightly open as he waits.

When the hustling and uncoordinated line up of the captives subsides, the head of guards kneels in front of his Guzhu, bowing more out of fear than of respect. Then again, in the Ghost Valley those two are one and the same, or at least never separated by much. His heart beating so hard he wonders if his subordinates can tell he is scared. He would lose face and they might kill him to gain the new Guzhu's favor. Swallowing hard, he says with a shaky voice, "Guzhu, they are ready for inspection."

With a smile curved out of disdain yet expectation, Wen Ke Xing walks along the offerings rolling the walnuts in his hand, culling them as he goes after only sparing each a single glace. Too short. Too skinny. Wrong hair color. What is that smell? Fat ankles. Mouth too small. Is this one a girl?

Moving from one to the next, he leaves a trail of lifeless bodies behind, already cooling as the blood stops flowing. Having snapped the neck of one that was just proportioned all wrong, a pair of shoulder blades catches his attention. Interesting. Moving so close behind the man, a bit shorter than himself with his hair in a top knot, he can smell the warm blood trickling down the back, almost pooling where a slender waist meets the curve of a firm ass. Wen Ke Xing suggestively licks his lips, fantasizing about the taste of that blood, and how it would taste when the blood was freshly induced by himself.

With nothing but a raised eyebrow, he holds out his slender hand and a wet cloth is immediately placed in his palm by a nameless servant, one of many who follows their Guzhu wherever he goes, abiding by any whim, need or desire.

Swallowing, noticeably enticed whilst biting his lower lip, Wen Ke Xing holds the cloth between the two strong yet slim shoulder blades and watches as water flows down the curves of a well‑defined upper body, parting in streaks around a surprisingly perky ass. The man is yet to make a single sound or movement, not even rewarding him with goosebumps from the cold water. Sending some spiritual energy into this specimen, he can feel the energy surging through the meridians in an intriguing way. Interesting. This man's spiritual core is magnificent. I wonder what martials arts are buried under these shoulders.

 ۹(ÒہÓ)۶ 

Author's notes:

(1) Guzhu = 雇主 or gùzhŭ, English translation is Master, owner, employer. The man we all know as 鬼谷雇主 or guǐgǔ gùzhŭ, Master of the Ghost Valley, or Ghost Valley Chief.