Chapter 343: Mindset 

A third-party force?

Mu Xi’s mind went blank.

It touched upon his interests? The reason his men attacked here was because of Ye Lan’s power seizure in Stone City—wasn’t Ba He just one of Nan Qiao’s generals?

But then why was there a third party? Who was it?

She instinctively looked at Ye Lan.

Ye Lan’s expression turned ice-cold in an instant.

In those phoenix eyes that had just regained their luster, the last trace of exhaustion was completely dispelled, replaced by a frigid, murderous glint.

Her entire aura shifted abruptly. That familiar, suffocating dominance and sense of absolute control spread through the room once again.

Mu Xi could even feel the fingers on Ye Lan’s hand wrapped around her waist subtly protruding as her knuckles tightened.

The force caused her some discomfort, yet she didn’t dare struggle.

The air seemed to freeze solid.

The room was left with only the three of them breathing softly, along with the occasional faint sounds of the battlefield being cleaned up drifting in from outside the window.

Ye Lan’s gaze shifted away from the captain, slowly lowering to rest on Mu Xi’s pale, small face.

Her eyes were deep and unfathomable, complex emotions churning within them.

Mu Xi’s chest tightened under that stare. The relief she’d felt moments ago when Ye Lan regained consciousness was once again seized by intense unease.

She didn’t understand why every time she felt a sliver of safety, a new crisis always emerged.

Stone City. This place was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

Ye Lan slowly—extremely slowly—sat up a bit straighter.

The movement tugged at the wounds on her back. Mu Xi could see her brow furrow slightly, but she endured it without making a sound.

Though her body was still weak and her movements stiff from injury, the commanding presence belonging to a true sovereign had fully returned.

She finally spoke, her voice hoarse from her earlier weakness and pain, yet every word was crisp and clear, carrying an unquestionable tone of command:

“Investigate.”

Just a single word, yet it carried the weight of a thousand pounds, crashing into the silent air.

“Dig out the rats hiding in the shadows—inch by inch!”

Ye Lan’s gaze was terrifyingly cold. “Whoever he is, whatever methods he used—since he dared to set his sights on me, he’d better be prepared to pay the price.”

“Yes!” The captain of the personal guard responded immediately without hesitation.

The Sovereign was truly enraged.

This wasn’t just because the Silent Language Building had been attacked. It was because the Sovereign had nearly died here—and in front of Lady Mu Xi, no less.

After receiving the order, the captain said nothing more. She bowed once again, then swiftly turned and left the room.

Her footsteps faded at the stairwell, leaving only Ye Lan and Mu Xi in the room once more.

Ye Lan didn’t immediately release Mu Xi. Instead, she pulled her closer into her embrace.

Her chin rested gently against the top of Mu Xi’s head. The silver hair was soft and cool, carrying Mu Xi’s unique fragrance.

“Little Xi…” Ye Lan’s voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible sigh and an almost obsessive need for confirmation. “Don’t be afraid.”

Mu Xi’s body was rigid. She didn’t dare move.

She could feel the heartbeat reverberating from Ye Lan’s chest—steady and powerful, a world apart from the near-death state she’d been in moments ago.

That gave her some comfort, but the sudden, chilling murderous aura radiating from Ye Lan, along with the unquestionable sense of control hidden beneath those words “Don’t be afraid,” filled her with dread.

She wasn’t sure who that “Don’t be afraid” was meant for.

Was it for her, or for Ye Lan herself?

The Silent Language Building was temporarily safe, but the world outside—the undercurrents of Stone City—seemed to have grown even more turbulent because of this attack.

Who exactly was that third party hidden behind Ba He’s forces? What was their goal? To stop Ye Lan from seizing power, or was there something else at play?

Mu Xi leaned against Ye Lan’s chest, feeling the strength and warmth gradually returning to the other woman, yet her heart remained ice-cold.

She had a premonition that a new, even greater storm was brewing in the shadows of Stone City.

And she and Ye Lan were standing at the very center of it.

—

Ye Lan held Mu Xi.

The woman in her arms trembled slightly, carrying the weakness of someone who had narrowly escaped death.

Ye Lan could clearly feel the warmth radiating from Mu Xi’s body—real and soft.

There was also Mu Xi’s scent—faint, sweet, like some fragile yet beautiful flower.

That scent. Ye Lan had once thought she loathed it utterly, wishing nothing more than to destroy it completely.

Now it was like a lifeline. The moment she grasped it tightly, she could pull herself free from the boundless darkness and return to the living world.

Her internal energy was slowly recovering, no longer the hollow emptiness and ethereal drift from before.

Ye Lan’s gaze was complex as she looked down at Mu Xi in her arms.

Mu Xi leaned against Ye Lan’s chest, the faint scent of blood lingering around her nose, mingled with another scent unique to Ye Lan—cold, overbearing, and commanding.

The two scents intertwined, causing Mu Xi’s heartbeat to fall out of rhythm.

Shame surged over her like a tidal wave, drowning her completely.

Her body felt as if it had been crushed. Every inch of skin screamed with soreness and exhaustion.

She moved her fingers, trying to straighten her disheveled clothes.

The fabric was wrinkled and bunched together, hanging loosely on her frame, exposing large swaths of pale, fair skin.

The moment her fingertips touched the collar, Ye Lan’s large hand pressed down over hers.

Ye Lan’s palm was dry and warm, carrying a force that brooked no refusal.

Mu Xi’s body stiffened instantly, as if nailed to the spot, unable to move.

Ye Lan lowered her head, her warm breath spilling against Mu Xi’s ear.

Her voice was low and hoarse, carrying a faint vulnerability and dependence that was hard to detect—like someone cherishing a fragile treasure, cautious and afraid of startling it.

“Don’t move.”

Just two words, yet they carried a command-like firmness that allowed no argument.

Mu Xi pressed her lips together, maintaining her rigid posture within Ye Lan’s confinement, not daring to move an inch.

Ye Lan’s breath drew closer. Scorching hot air brushed against Mu Xi’s sensitive earlobe, carrying a burning temperature that seemed ready to consume her entirely.

“You saved me.”

“Let me feel it a little longer…” Ye Lan’s voice dropped even lower, like a lover’s whisper, or perhaps a quiet plea.

The tail end of her words carried a barely perceptible tremble, and a tone Mu Xi had never heard before—something almost fragile.

Not a commanding order from on high. Not cold, ruthless mockery. Not teasing amusement.

But something genuine. Dependence.

Mu Xi’s body stiffened again.

The emotion in Ye Lan’s words, so different from anything before, was like a stone thrown into the calm surface of her heart, stirring ripple after ripple, leaving her inner lake unable to return to stillness.

Her mind grew even more chaotic.

Shame. Exhaustion. Confusion. Unease. All these complex emotions intertwined like a tangled knot—impossible to unravel, impossible to cut through.

She saved Ye Lan?

That realization struck Mu Xi as absurd.

Between her and Ye Lan, there was nothing but irreconcilable hatred—an unbridgeable chasm that could never be crossed.

Ye Lan was her enemy. The one who had destroyed everything she held dear.

She had once hated Ye Lan. She had wished she could cut Ye Lan into a thousand pieces and grind her bones to ash.

And yet, she had saved Ye Lan.

With her own body. In that way.

This realization filled Mu Xi with a profound sense of self-loathing.

She felt dirty. Lowly. Like mud trampled underfoot—devoid of dignity, walked upon by all.

But then, Ye Lan’s tone just now… it made her feel a flicker of confusion.

That dependence. That vulnerability. She had never seen it in Ye Lan before.

Always, in front of her, Ye Lan was forceful, domineering, in complete control.

Like a queen perched high above, looking down at the ants crawling on the ground.

And now, that queen had revealed a fragile side before her.

It confused Mu Xi. It made her uneasy. And it stirred something else—a feeling she didn’t even want to acknowledge.

What was it? Pity? Sympathy? Or…

Mu Xi didn’t dare think deeper. She didn’t want to.

She told herself to stay clear-headed, stay calm, not to let her emotions cloud her judgment.

But Ye Lan’s embrace was so warm. So safe.

And her exhausted body craved that warmth, longed for that safety.