Beauty

A historical Chinese practice where a beautiful young maidservant was employed as a living piece of toilet paper for nobles, washed and reused between uses. Symbolizes extreme dehumanization in feudal hierarchies.

Definition

Story context

Just when you thought the Dao-Twisted World couldn’t get any fouler, this chapter lands like a cold slap. After a rare moment of warmth—shared meat, drunk laughter, and a full moon—Li Huowang’s curiosity gets the better of him. A casual question to Sun Baolu’s mother about the wealthy Liang Kingdom unravels into something far darker than any monster he’s faced so far. This is not a chapter of ghosts or rituals, but of human cruelty so mundane and so thorough that it makes the flesh Buddhas of Zhengde Temple look almost quaint. Get ready, because the horror here isn’t supernatural—it’s social.

Why it matters

Brace yourself. This chapter’s horror is quiet, personal, and totally without monsters. The punchline of “they used my mother to wipe other people’s asses” is meant to land with the same visceral force as any dismemberment in the *Thousand Greats Record*. Pay close attention to Li Huowang’s reaction: he shifts from shock to nausea to a flat, exhausted pragmatism. That’s the character arc right there—the moment he stops hoping for a clean escape and accepts that this world is rotten to its core, everywhere. Bai Lingmiao’s innocence about her homeland isn’t a plot hole; it’s a shield. She only saw her tiny village, not the full beast. And Sun Baolu? His final confession, delivered through gritted teeth and drunken terror, is one of the most vulnerable moments in the story so far. Painful, necessary, and unforgettable.