The female bodyguard replied expressionlessly, “Teacher Ling Yue left a long time ago, on the very day you escaped.”
“Left?” Mu Xi froze on the spot, a wave of bitterness rising in her chest.
If she had chosen to follow Ling Yue that day instead of Tuesday, would she have already been far away from this hell?
Mu Xi gave a bitter smile and shook her head, mocking herself, “What am I even thinking?”
She gently stroked the smooth surface of the piano, murmuring to herself:
“Even if I escape, what then? My goal isn’t to run away—it’s to take revenge on Ye Lan.”
Since she was already in the Practice Room, Mu Xi sat down in front of the Steinway Piano, her slender fingers lightly resting on the keys.
“Little An, what song do you want to hear?” Mu Xi asked, a rare trace of ease flickering in her eyes.
Little An stood silently by the side, expressionless as always, showing no reaction.
Mu Xi chuckled softly and her fingers danced over the keys, a beautiful melody echoing through the Practice Room.
She closed her eyes and began to sing softly, her voice flowing like a clear spring through mountain streams, tinged with sorrow yet resolute.
In this brief moment, she seemed to forget she was a caged Golden Canary, forgot Li Xin’s painful gaze, and forgot Ye Lan’s cruelty.
There was only music, only singing, only this moment of freedom.
The beautiful melody lingered in the Practice Room for a long while before Mu Xi slowly released the keys and cleared her throat gently.
“Little An, please pour me a glass of water.” Her voice was hoarse; singing for so long had left her parched.
Without a sound, Little An nodded and quickly went to the tea table in the corner of the room, her movements mechanical yet practiced.
Mu Xi stood and walked to the soft velvet sofa, sitting down casually and resting her feet on the tea table, her delicate ankles faintly visible beneath the skirt.
“Thank you.” Taking the teacup Little An handed her, Mu Xi sipped the warm tea, feeling her throat ease considerably.
She glanced at the expressionless Little An and quietly ordered, “Help me take off my shoes, then give me a foot massage.”
Little An immediately knelt in front of the sofa, her slender but rough hands carefully undoing the straps of Mu Xi’s Gothic lace shoes, her motions gentle yet efficient.
“Your technique is quite professional.” Mu Xi squinted slightly, but inside, her mind was calculating other matters.
She didn’t truly intend to treat Little An as a servant, but she understood that every corner of the Manor was watched by Ye Lan’s spies.
Showing too much pity toward Little An could bring disaster upon her.
Ye Lan’s logic was simple—useless things should be discarded.
If Mu Xi appeared unwilling to use Little An, in Ye Lan’s eyes, Little An would become “useless.”
Little An’s thumb pressed precisely on an acupoint on Mu Xi’s foot, a comforting warmth spreading from her soles throughout her body.
“Mm…” Mu Xi couldn’t help but sigh softly in relief, feeling the fatigue slowly dissipate.
“Where did you learn such skilled hands?” Mu Xi asked casually, knowing she wouldn’t get a reply but wanting to maintain the master-servant facade.
Little An remained silent, her hands working with even greater focus.
Mu Xi closed her eyes slightly, drifting into a brief moment of relaxation, but her thoughts wandered far away.
No matter what, she had to protect Little An until the day she could take her revenge on Ye Lan.
***
In the afternoon, Mu Xi strolled through the Garden with Little An, her long hair fluttering gently in the breeze.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves.
“Little An, look at those roses, they’re so beautiful.” Mu Xi spoke softly, but her gaze suddenly froze on a figure in the distance.
That familiar silhouette made her heart skip a beat.
It was Wuhen!
The last time she caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure in the Garden through a window in the Manor hallway, she thought it was a hallucination.
But this time, she clearly saw Wuhen walking along a path in the Garden before disappearing toward the Dungeon.
“How is this possible…” Mu Xi muttered, her slender fingers unconsciously clutching at her skirt.
“She was clearly shot in the head by Li Xin.”
Swallowing hard, her heart pounding, the image of Wuhen’s bloodshot eyes flashed through her mind.
“Little An, wait here for me.” Mu Xi turned to Little An beside her and said, “Just watch the flowers here, I’ll be back soon.”
Little An nodded expressionlessly.
Mu Xi took a deep breath and cautiously followed the direction where Wuhen had disappeared.
The narrow path deep in the Garden twisted and turned, leading toward the familiar entrance of the Dungeon.
The trees grew thicker, sunlight blocked by layer upon layer of leaves, and the surroundings grew darker.
Mu Xi’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, each step careful and silent, afraid of making any sound.
Inside the Dungeon was damp and dark, a few dim oil lamps hanging on the walls barely illuminating the surroundings.
‘What am I doing?’ Mu Xi questioned herself inwardly, but her curiosity and thirst for the truth pushed her forward.
“Drip, drip”—the sound of water droplets hitting the stone floor was especially clear in the silent Dungeon.
Mu Xi carefully avoided puddles as she moved along the narrow corridor, searching for any sign of Wuhen.
Some cells on either side were empty, while others held prisoners in tattered clothes.
Mu Xi covered her nose, suppressing her nausea as she continued.
At a corner, a shadow suddenly flashed.
Before Mu Xi could react, a strong hand grabbed her and slammed her heavily against the cold stone wall.
“Why are you following me?” A low, hoarse female voice whispered in her ear.
Mu Xi’s eyes widened, and up close she could see the other’s face clearly—under tangled hair, a pair of bloodshot eyes were fixed on her intensely.
“W-Wuhen…” Mu Xi stammered, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
She never expected to be caught, let alone face a “dead person” face to face like this.
Wuhen’s fingers gripped her neck, making it hard to breathe, yet Mu Xi’s mind was unusually clear—this was Wuhen, without a doubt.
But why did something feel off?
Forcing herself to stay calm, she asked in a trembling voice, “You… you’re supposed to be dead. How are you still alive?”
Wuhen’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion flashing through her bloodshot gaze as the grip on Mu Xi’s neck loosened just a bit.
“What are you talking about? Do we know each other?” Wuhen’s hoarse voice carried clear bewilderment.
Mu Xi stared in disbelief, not daring to believe her ears.
“You… you don’t remember? You took me hostage before, planning to escape the Manor, but Li Xin shot you in the head…”
Mu Xi’s voice grew quieter, noticing Wuhen’s expression grow even more puzzled.
Wuhen released her hold completely but still pressed Mu Xi against the wall, watching the small silver-haired girl warily.
“You’re not one of Ye Lan’s?” Wuhen asked softly, the murderous intent in her eyes lessening.
Only then did Mu Xi realize that this “Wuhen” might not be the Wuhen she knew.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to take a chance.
“I was captured by Ye Lan…” Mu Xi said quietly, the humiliation evident in her tone.
“She kept me like a pet, often… ‘training’ me.”
Wuhen’s expression softened, and she took a step back.
“That’s fine then. That means you’re not the enemy.” Wuhen’s voice was still cold but lacked hostility.
Mu Xi rubbed her neck, still red from the grip, leaning against the cold stone wall, her mind a whirlwind.
“Then who exactly are you?” Mu Xi asked cautiously, her eyes filled with both suspicion and curiosity.