“You’re awfully busy, my little pet,” Ye Lan’s low, magnetic voice purred in Mu Xi’s ear, smooth as velvet yet sharp enough to cut.
Mu Xi jolted as if struck by lightning, the game controller nearly slipping from her trembling hands.
She spun around, heart lurching, to find Ye Lan standing behind her, a cryptic smile playing on her lips, dark eyes glinting with something unreadable.
“I… I’m just playing a game,” Mu Xi stammered, a flicker of panic darting through her wide, butterfly-wing eyes.
Ye Lan arched a brow, her gaze sharpening.
“A game? It looks more like you’re venting some pent-up rage.”
Mu Xi’s pulse raced, her mind scrambling for a lifeline, any excuse to deflect the scrutiny.
“Uh… it’s just that the boss in this game has beaten me so many times,” she blurted.
“Now I finally have a chance to fight back, so I got a bit… carried away.”
She forced a smile, praying it was convincing enough to slip past Ye Lan’s piercing stare.
Ye Lan’s eyes lingered on her, as though peeling back the layers of her soul.
“Is that so?” she murmured, her voice laced with skepticism.
Mu Xi nodded frantically.
“Yes, I swear!”
The air grew thick with tension, and Mu Xi felt cold sweat prickling down her spine.
Just as she braced for her facade to crumble, Ye Lan’s lips curved into a mysterious smile.
“Alright, I’ll believe you,” she said, her long fingers brushing through Mu Xi’s hair with a gentleness that felt like a warning.
“But it’s time to go. I have something… special planned for you.”
Mu Xi’s heart nearly leapt from her chest.
Swallowing her dread, she followed Ye Lan out of the media room.
As they passed the stoic female bodyguards, their faces carved from stone, Mu Xi couldn’t help but wonder: had they, too, faced moments like this?
Her heart still pounded as she trailed Ye Lan, expecting to be led back to that suffocating room.
Instead, Ye Lan guided her downward, deeper into the mansion.
“M-Master… aren’t we going back to the room?” Mu Xi’s voice quivered, barely above a whisper.
Ye Lan glanced back, her phoenix eyes glinting with a dangerous spark, her smile sharp and enigmatic.
“Not yet. We’re going somewhere special. You’ll love it.”
A chill slithered up Mu Xi’s spine.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm.
“What… what kind of place?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Ye Lan replied, her voice a silken thread of mystery as her fingers grazed Mu Xi’s cheek, sending an involuntary shiver through her.
They crossed the opulent hall, and Mu Xi caught the fleeting glances of the bodyguards—eyes that seemed to hold a trace of pity.
It only deepened her unease.
At last, they reached a shadowed corner where a staircase descended into darkness.
Mu Xi’s heart thundered, the golden bell around her neck chiming softly with each step.
“Master… what is this…?”
Her voice was a fragile whisper, trembling with fear.
Ye Lan said nothing, only nudged her forward, her touch firm yet eerily gentle.
With each step down, the air grew colder, damper, thick with the scent of decay mingling with the cloying sweetness of cream and perfume.
Flickering torches cast ghostly shadows on the walls, and Mu Xi’s head spun, nausea rising in her throat.
They stopped before a heavy iron door.
Ye Lan produced an ancient key, sliding it into the lock.
With a dull thud, the door creaked open.
Mu Xi gasped, her blood running cold.
Before her, a man lay bound to an iron bed, his body a canvas of whip marks and wounds from cruel instruments.
His face, though familiar, was a hollow mask of pain, eyes shut, consciousness long fled.
‘Tuesday…?’
Her lips trembled, words failing her.
Ye Lan turned with an elegant grace, her eyes gleaming with menace.
“My dear little pet,” she said softly, “do you know this man?”
The world tilted beneath Mu Xi’s feet.
This was a question of life and death.
Should she admit the truth?
Or feign ignorance?
Would Tuesday betray her if he woke?
Time seemed to freeze, her mind racing through the consequences of every choice.
She decided to gamble.
Widening her butterfly eyes, she summoned an air of innocence.
“Huh? Me? Should I know him?”
Her heart pounded so fiercely she feared it might burst, but she clung to her act, praying Ye Lan would buy it.
Ye Lan’s gaze flickered between Mu Xi and the unconscious man, as if dissecting their very souls.
The air grew heavy with fear, time itself holding its breath.
After a long, agonizing silence, Ye Lan’s voice cut through, low and dangerous.
“This man planned to steal the gold mine map and hand it to outsiders. You’re telling me you’ve never seen him? Never spoken to him?”
Mu Xi’s pulse roared in her ears, her instincts screaming to confess, to betray Tuesday.
Tell Ye Lan he cared for her—surely that would enrage her enough to end him on the spot.
But a faint, stubborn voice within her resisted.
Biting her lip, she decided to gamble again.
“Master, I swear I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him, never spoken a word.”
Ye Lan’s lips curled into a cold smile, her fingers brushing Mu Xi’s pale cheek.
“Still lying? He’s already confessed.”
Mu Xi’s heart lurched, her eyes darting to Tuesday’s limp form.
‘Is she bluffing?’ she thought.
‘He’s unconscious—she could say anything.’
Forcing down her panic, she pouted, feigning indignation.
“Master, I really don’t…” Her voice dripped with innocence and helplessness.
At that moment, a stone-faced bodyguard approached, carrying a basin of icy water.
Without hesitation, she doused Tuesday.
The frigid liquid shocked him awake, his body writhing as guttural moans escaped his throat.
Ye Lan’s gaze snapped between them.
“Do you know her?” she demanded, her voice like a blade.
But Tuesday, lost in pain, could only groan, his mind too broken to respond.
Ye Lan’s eyes flashed with impatience.
Turning to Mu Xi, she said, “Fine. I’ll let this go.”
She handed Mu Xi a bloodstained whip, her voice ice-cold.
“Kill him, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Mu Xi’s fingers trembled as she took the whip.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Ye Lan’s glare turned feral.
“Don’t dawdle! Don’t think my indulgence gives you free rein!”
Mu Xi flinched, her silver hair falling limply around her shoulders.
She looked at Tuesday, a tangle of emotions swelling within her.
‘He’s suffered so much…’ she thought.
‘But what choice do I have?’
After a moment’s hesitation, she made her decision.
She would act—but she’d try to spare him as much pain as possible.
Feigning clumsiness, she raised the whip with a shaky hand.
Her first strike missed entirely.
On the second, she subtly angled her wrist, letting the whip snap against her own back.
“Ah!” she cried, her slender frame quivering from the sting.
Ye Lan’s laughter was sharp, almost amused.
“Is there anyone in this world clumsier than you?”
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Girls trying to escape while living my dream life. Lowkey jealous. Say what you want about her captor but she still treats her better than my own family does. At least up to this point.
Does to me*
I wish i was her