There was a certain light flickering in her eyes that Mu Xi couldn’t comprehend.
“Little An,” Ye Lan’s tone was like that used to address a well-trained pet, “these are the panties your young Master just took off. Consider them your reward for your diligent training during this time.”
Mu Xi held her breath.
She thought Little An would at least hesitate, show some sign of disgust or resistance.
Any normal person would.
Yet, to her shock, Little An’s eyes immediately lit up as if she’d seen a priceless treasure.
Her hands snatched up the white lace at an unbelievable speed, then, without the slightest hesitation, shoved it into her mouth.
Little An’s eyes half closed, a whimper of near obsession rising from deep in her throat as she chewed greedily, as if it was not fabric, but the most delicious food in the world.
Every swallow, every gentle bite, was filled with an intoxicating rapture that was almost unbearable to witness.
Mu Xi froze in place, lips slightly parted, unable to make a sound.
Her thoughts were in utter chaos; the absurd scene before her was completely beyond her comprehension.
In that moment, she even doubted if she was still on Earth—everything around her had become so strange and distorted.
A warm trickle slid down between her legs; with no panties to block it, the shame was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.
In a daze, Mu Xi found herself back in her room, not even recalling how she got there.
When she finally came to her senses, she was lying atop that dark green silk bed, eyes vacant, staring at the intricate carvings on the ceiling.
The night outside was already as deep as spilled ink.
Chilly winds slipped in through the Gothic Spire Window, lifting the strands of dark gold curtain, brushing icily over her burning skin and making her shrink back a little.
Mu Xi slowly raised her hand, gazing at her slender, pale fingers, an indescribable sense of absurdity welling up inside her.
This body, this shell of a woman, still felt unfamiliar.
Memories of her past life as a man remained vivid.
Yet now, she lay in this luxurious cage, wallowing in a mire of desire.
“What am I even doing?” she whispered to herself, her voice sounding especially powerless in the empty room.
Over the past few weeks, her life had shrunk into a morbid cycle: taking a Throat Lozenge every morning, submitting to the humiliating Medicine Bath each afternoon, and at night, becoming nothing more than Ye Lan’s plaything.
Her original plans, her thoughts of vengeance, had all grown blurred amidst repeated physical indulgence.
Mu Xi suddenly sat up, silver hair spilling over her shoulders, the crimson heart-shaped tattoo on her lower abdomen faintly visible in the moonlight, as if mocking her fall.
She remembered Ye Lan’s gaze, that condescending satisfaction—just like watching a perfectly tamed pet.
“No,” she clenched her fists, “I can’t go on like this.”
She recalled the people she’d seen in the Dungeon, remembered the cruelty of Ye Lan’s subordinates, and the reason she was imprisoned here to begin with.
And how Li Xin and Little An had been trained into such pitiful states.
She must not forget—Ye Lan was her mortal enemy, yet under this relentless conditioning, she was on the verge of losing herself.
“Starting tomorrow,” Mu Xi vowed softly to the night outside the window, her voice quiet but resolute, “I must start planning again.”
She needed to use He Yi more, though she still couldn’t fully trust her.
Most important of all, she had to resist the pleasure brought by the drugs and the training—she could not let her will be eroded by desire any further.
“I am not her pet,” Mu Xi said quietly.
The night wind brushed in once more, but this time Mu Xi didn’t shrink away. Instead, she felt a clarity she hadn’t known for a long time.
If she wanted to obtain the Tears of Oblivion, the best way would be to win Ye Lan’s trust first.
She lay on the bed, her thoughts rising and falling like the wind outside the window.
With her eyes closed, images of the suffering prisoners in the Dungeon surfaced in her mind, and she remembered Little An’s near-fanatical expression as she devoured her panties.
Everything in this manor was twisted and sick, and she herself was being gradually warped by it.
“No, I must keep my reason,” Mu Xi murmured to herself.
***
The next morning, just as Mu Xi got up, the door was pushed open.
Ye Lan strode in with elegant steps, her long black hair glimmering in the morning light, those deep, fox-like eyes glinting with expectation.
“Did my little pet sleep well?” Ye Lan walked to the bedside, her slender fingers gently stroking Mu Xi’s cheek.
Mu Xi forcibly suppressed her instinct to flinch.
Instead, she leaned forward ever so slightly, matching Ye Lan’s touch.
“Master, you’re here so early.”
The two had breakfast together.
From time to time, Ye Lan fed Mu Xi pieces of fruit with her fork.
After the meal, Ye Lan’s hands began to wander restlessly over Mu Xi’s body, clearly planning, as usual, to spend a pleasant morning in bed.
Mu Xi felt a familiar heat surging in her lower abdomen—this was the Throat Lozenge starting to take effect.
She bit her lower lip, knowing that if she gave in to desire now, last night’s resolve would be for nothing.
“Master,” Mu Xi gently pushed Ye Lan’s hand away, a hint of cunning flashing in her eyes, “I have an idea.”
Ye Lan raised an eyebrow, “Let’s hear it.”
“I want to see the prisoners in the Dungeon.”
Mu Xi licked her lips, deliberately making her voice sound eager and expectant, “I want to personally torture them with the Tears of Oblivion, to see the look on their faces when they’re in pain.”
Ye Lan’s expression froze for a moment, then she broke into a delighted smile.
“What a surprise. I thought you weren’t interested in such things. Why so twisted all of a sudden?”
“I just don’t want Master to think I’m too weak,” Mu Xi lowered her head, her voice turning even softer.
“I want Master to see another side of me.”
A trace of satisfaction flickered in Ye Lan’s eyes as she lifted Mu Xi’s chin and said, “Then let’s go now.”
***
They walked along the garden path to a hidden trail deep in the woods.
Mu Xi followed behind Ye Lan, her heart pounding faster.
Every step brought her closer to that deadly vial—and closer, too, to the innocent prisoners.
The air in the Dungeon was still cold and damp, laced with the stench of blood and decay.
Mu Xi forced down her urge to gag, following Ye Lan through the narrow corridor.
The oil lamps on the walls flickered with feeble light, casting twisted shadows on the stone walls.
“This one.” Ye Lan stopped in front of a cell.
Inside, a ragged man was huddled on the floor.
Hearing the sound, the man looked up.
His eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow, beard unkempt, yet there was still a glimmer of clarity in his gaze.
“Who is this?” Mu Xi asked, trying to buy time.
“An unimportant person.” Ye Lan replied offhandedly, taking a delicate crystal vial from her pocket, “Here, hold it steady.”
Mu Xi took the vial, feeling the weight in her hand.
The transparent liquid shimmered with an eerie blue glow under the dim light, looking harmless, yet capable of inflicting a slow and agonizing death.
“Go on, let me see how you do.” Ye Lan nudged Mu Xi’s back.
Mu Xi stepped toward the cell, the iron bars creaking shrilly.
The man looked at her, fear flashing in his eyes.
“Please,” the man croaked, “I didn’t mean to kill anyone, it was an accident.”
Mu Xi crouched down to look him in the eye.
She could smell the sweat and terror radiating from his body.
Her hands trembled slightly, but under Ye Lan’s gaze, she could not show a trace of hesitation.
“Open your mouth,” Mu Xi commanded, her voice so cold and hard that even she found it unfamiliar.