Mu Xi’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but she forced herself to focus, her voice trembling as she followed the melody.
The notes felt like chains, each one tighter than the last.
Her nerves betrayed her, pitching her voice off-key, and Lin Ke’er, with that maddening spark in her eyes, only leaned closer, her enthusiasm growing with every faltering note.
“Teacher, please, can we take a break?” Mu Xi pleaded, her throat aching from more than just strain.
“My voice… it’s hurting.”
“Alright,” Lin Ke’er said, setting her violin aside with a flourish.
“Shall I massage your throat for you?”
“No!” Mu Xi’s hands flew to her neck, shielding it as if it were her last defense.
“I’ll rest on my own.”
Lin Ke’er’s laughter danced through the air, light but edged with mischief.
“Such a proud little thing,” she teased, shaking her head.
“Fine, then. How about a game to loosen you up?”
“What kind of game?” Mu Xi asked, her voice wary.
“You lie on the piano,” Lin Ke’er said, her smile curling like smoke, “and I’ll play.”
“Don’t even think about it!” Mu Xi stomped her foot, her cheeks flaring with indignation.
“You’re such a pervert!”
“Oh, but you’re even cuter when you’re angry,” Lin Ke’er said, reaching to pinch her cheek.
Mu Xi dodged, her heart racing.
“Fine, no games. Let’s keep singing.”
Mu Xi met Lin Ke’er’s gaze, those cunning eyes glinting with unspoken promises, and felt the lesson stretch into an eternity of torment.
She didn’t dare provoke her teacher further, so she swallowed her frustration and pressed on, her voice a reluctant offering to the endless class.
“Sing from the heart,” Lin Ke’er instructed, her fingers gliding over the piano keys.
“Like the way I feel about you.”
“Can you not say things like that?” Mu Xi sighed, exasperation lacing her words.
“Can’t you just teach properly?”
“Of course I can,” Lin Ke’er replied, her smile blooming brighter.
“But seeing you blush makes it so hard to resist teasing you.”
In her mind, Mu Xi cursed Lin Ke’er a thousand times over, but outwardly, she maintained the facade of a diligent student, her patience fraying with every passing second.
She prayed she’d never have to endure another lesson like this.
When the two-hour vocal lesson finally ended, Mu Xi fled the music room as if her life depended on it.
Lin Ke’er’s hands had been far too bold, roaming under the guise of correcting her posture—sliding from her shoulders to her waist, even daring to venture toward more intimate territory.
“Your figure is exquisite,” Lin Ke’er had purred, her voice thick with enchantment.
“Your skin, so smooth, so soft… like milk pudding.”
“I—I need to find my master,” Mu Xi stammered, shoving Lin Ke’er’s hands away.
“Don’t rush off,” Lin Ke’er cooed, stepping closer, her breath warm.
“That milky scent of yours… it’s utterly captivating.”
Seizing a moment of distraction, Mu Xi bolted from the room, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her pulse thundered, Lin Ke’er’s suggestive words echoing in her mind like a haunting refrain.
She ran too fast, her thoughts a tangle, and at the corner, she collided headlong into a maid.
“Ah!” Mu Xi gasped, her face buried in the maid’s ample chest, the softness overwhelming.
Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself, only to graze something even softer.
“I’m so sorry!” Mu Xi stumbled back, her face burning as red as a ripened apple.
“It’s alright, miss,” the maid said, her smile gentle but her eyes appraising.
Mu Xi’s gaze flickered to the maid’s striking figure, and her mind drifted to the herbal baths Ye Lan had prepared for her.
Was this what her master wanted her to become?
The thought alone sent a dizzying wave through her, the image too much to bear.
“Miss, are you alright?” the maid asked, her voice laced with concern.
“I—I’m fine,” Mu Xi managed, shaking her head as she fled the scene.
The day had been a whirlwind of intensity—Lin Ke’er’s wandering hands, this mortifying collision.
All Mu Xi wanted was the sanctuary of her room, a place to quiet her racing heart.
“Miss, wait,” the maid called, catching Mu Xi’s wrist with surprising strength.
“Let me check if you’re hurt.”
Mu Xi tried to pull free, but the maid’s grip held firm.
She looked up, and the glint in the maid’s eyes sent a shiver through her—a look eerily similar to Lin Ke’er’s, to Ye Lan’s.
“Your scent is divine,” the maid murmured, leaning closer.
“Like milk and cream, so sweet.”
“T-thank you, I’m really fine,” Mu Xi said, struggling to keep her composure.
“Your skin,” the maid continued, her fingers brushing lightly over Mu Xi’s wrist, “it’s as delicate as milk pudding.”
The words struck a chord of déjà vu—hadn’t Lin Ke’er said the exact same thing?
Mu Xi’s heart skipped.
“I heard from Captain Lin that you’re learning to sing,” the maid went on, her voice soft but persistent.
“Your voice must be lovely. Will you sing for me sometime?”
“I—I have to find my master,” Mu Xi said, finally wrenching her arm free.
“Such a pity,” the maid said, her tone tinged with regret.
“But I clean this floor every day. Perhaps we’ll meet again, miss.”
The implication in her words sent a chill down Mu Xi’s spine, and she didn’t bother with pleasantries—she turned and ran.
Safe in her room at last, Mu Xi collapsed onto her bed, her mind replaying the day’s events like a fevered dream.
‘What was wrong with the women in this manor? Was it the baths, the perfumes, working some strange magic on them?’
Or… Her face flushed scarlet as a new thought struck her.
‘Could Ye Lan have orchestrated this?
Arranged for these women to… to train her?’
“No, no, stop it!” Mu Xi shook her head fiercely, trying to banish the horrifying idea.
But the maid’s suggestive gaze and Lin Ke’er’s brazen words clung to her, a mix of fear and confusion swirling in her chest.
That evening, as always, Mu Xi bathed, swallowed the mind-dulling pill, and sank into the herbal bath, the warm liquid enveloping her, its rich fragrance filling the air.
She was drifting into a haze when Ye Lan returned, dust still clinging to her leather coat, her presence commanding the room.
“Master, you’re back,” Mu Xi said, instinctively sinking lower into the water.
Ye Lan prowled the room, inspecting it with a practiced eye before stopping by the wooden tub, gazing down at Mu Xi.
“Have you been good today?”
“I—I did everything you asked,” Mu Xi replied, her fingers nervously stirring the water.
“Master, if you want to see, I… I can stand,” Mu Xi offered, her cheeks aflame, accustomed to Ye Lan’s demands.
“No need,” Ye Lan said with a soft chuckle.
“The bath takes time to work its magic. Besides, I’ll see plenty when you’re done.”
Before Mu Xi could respond, Ye Lan picked up a ladle, scooped some of the bathwater, and brought it to her lips.
Mu Xi’s eyes widened, her stomach churning as Ye Lan savored the taste, licking her lips.
“Delicious,” she said, her voice low.
“It’s filled with your essence.”
“Master, that water…” Mu Xi faltered, unsure how to protest.
“What? Don’t want me to drink it?” Ye Lan asked, scooping another ladleful.
“It’s more intoxicating than any wine.”
Mu Xi bit back a retort—’Why not add some spices and stew me while you’re at it?’
“Oh, what’s that look?” Ye Lan said, catching the shift in her expression.
“Thinking something amusing? Share it with me.”
“N-nothing,” Mu Xi stammered, shaking her head.
“Thinking about your vocal lesson?” Ye Lan asked suddenly.
“Lin Ke’er said you were very… attentive.”
Mu Xi’s heart lurched.
Has Lin Ke’er told her everything?
“Why so quiet?” Ye Lan took another sip of the bathwater, her eyes never leaving Mu Xi’s.
“Did something interesting happen?”
“No!” Mu Xi blurted, her voice almost a shout.
“Really?” Ye Lan’s fingers traced Mu Xi’s cheek, her touch light but unyielding.
“Then why is your face so red?”
Mu Xi tried to pull away, but Ye Lan’s hand on her shoulder held her in place, the water rippling with her movement, splashing softly.
“Master, the water’s getting cold,” Mu Xi said, desperate to change the subject.
“No matter,” Ye Lan said, her voice warm with amusement.
“I’ll keep drinking until it does.”