“I like it… Master… please, I beg you…” Â
Mu Xi’s voice trembled with incoherent pleas, thick with sobs, her once-sweet and charming demeanor shattered.
She was no longer the radiant girl she had been, now reduced to a pitiful captive, drowning in the tides of desire. Â
Ye Lan gazed at Mu Xi’s utterly undone state, a deeper amusement glinting in her eyes.
She relished this—watching Mu Xi shed every pretense, baring her rawest, most vulnerable self.
The power to unravel her, to hold her in the palm of her hand, filled Ye Lan with a profound satisfaction. Â
Instead of relenting, Ye Lan intensified her torment, increasing the rhythm of the pulsing device, each wave striking Mu Xi’s crumbling defenses.
Unable to endure any longer, Mu Xi surrendered completely, her body melting into a boneless heap, her voice reduced to meaningless moans as pleasure consumed her entirely.
Sated, Ye Lan slid off Mu Xi, her own exhaustion lending a languid grace as she leaned against the headboard.
The room was heavy with the scent of desire.
Mu Xi, like a ravaged kitten, curled weakly in the sheets, her body still quivering with the aftershocks, so sensitive that the faintest breeze seemed to make her tremble. Â
Outside, twilight draped the estate in a gauzy veil, and the room grew dim.
Ye Lan flicked on the bedside lamp, its soft glow banishing the shadows and illuminating Mu Xi’s flushed cheeks and damp, silver hair.
“Oh, by the way, there’s something you should know,” Ye Lan said casually, her tone as light as if she were commenting on the weather.
Mu Xi flinched, lifting her head from the cocoon of blankets, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty, like a startled fawn.
“What… what is it?”
Her voice was hoarse, still trembling, her mind clearly struggling to emerge from the haze of earlier ecstasy. Â
“Next month, the estate will host some distinguished guests,” Ye Lan said, twirling a strand of her raven hair around her finger, her gaze deep and unreadable.
“Before they arrive, you’d better perfect your singing.” Â
Mu Xi blinked, confusion clouding her face.
“Singing?”
“Yes. I’ve hired a new music teacher for you. They arrive tomorrow,” Ye Lan declared, her tone brooking no argument.
Mu Xi’s expression wavered between bewilderment and a trace of grievance.
“But… didn’t you say my singing was awful?”
She recalled Ye Lan’s past mockery of her voice. Â
Ye Lan let out a soft chuckle, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes.
“It is awful. That’s why you need to practice.” She paused, her voice taking on a meaningful edge.
“I’ve spared no expense hiring a world-class teacher. If you still sound like a squawking duck, wouldn’t that be a waste of my money?” Â
Mu Xi bit her lip, unease stirring in her chest.
A world-class teacher?
Ye Lan, spending so much on her? Â
“What if… what if I can’t learn well enough?”
Her voice shrank, laced with timidity and nerves. Â
She felt clumsy, inadequate, certain she could never meet Ye Lan’s lofty expectations.
Ye Lan arched a brow, her lips curving into a dangerous smile.
“Can’t learn?”
She drew out the words, her tone darkening.
“When those guests arrive, you’ll be expected to perform.” Â
Mu Xi’s heart lurched, a foreboding chill creeping over her.
Perform?
She could barely sing, and her voice was, by Ye Lan’s own admission, dreadful.
“If you can’t sing, can’t dance, and have no talents to show…”
Ye Lan paused deliberately, watching Mu Xi’s face as fear deepened in her eyes. “
Well, that would be… problematic.” Â
Mu Xi’s face paled, her body trembling faintly.
The implication in Ye Lan’s words sent a shiver of dread through her, a horrifying possibility taking shape in her mind.
Savoring Mu Xi’s growing panic, Ye Lan continued in a leisurely drawl, “So, if you have nothing to offer by then, you’ll have to compensate our guests with… your body.”
“My… body?” Mu Xi’s voice broke with a sob, the full weight of Ye Lan’s meaning crashing over her like a tidal wave.
“Oh, yes. Entertain the guests for a few days, until they’ve had their fill and leave.”
Ye Lan’s tone was breezy, as if discussing something trivial, but each word stabbed into Mu Xi’s heart like a dagger.
Panic seized her.
She couldn’t tell if Ye Lan was serious, but the mere possibility was enough to unravel her. Â
Caged like a pet, forced into acts she loathed, offered up as a gift to strangers… the thought was unbearable, unthinkable.
Clutching the sheets, tears spilled from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks.
The pressure was a mountain, crushing her, stealing her breath.
Ye Lan seemed to revel in Mu Xi’s distress, a faint smile playing on her lips.
She stood, her sleek black leather outfit accentuating her lithe form, each step radiating an intangible menace.
“Prepare well. Don’t disappoint me.”
With that, she turned and left, the door closing softly behind her, yet it felt like an iron shackle locking Mu Xi in her prison once more.
The room fell silent, save for Mu Xi’s ragged breaths, the air heavy with the void Ye Lan left behind.
She sat frozen on the bed, the remnants of pleasure now tangled with raw fear, a chaotic knot she couldn’t unravel.
“Don’t disappoint me?” she whispered, her voice thick with confusion and hurt.
How could she possibly meet Ye Lan’s demands?
Singing?
How could she master it so quickly, when skill required time and talent she wasn’t sure she possessed?
Guests?
Physical compensation?
The words pierced her like thorns, each one drawing blood from her heart.
A sudden spark of anger flared within her.
Grabbing a pillow, she imagined it as Ye Lan’s cold, enigmatic face. Â
“Hmph!” she huffed, flinging the pillow onto the bed and pummeling it with her small fists, as if she could beat away her frustration and rage.
“Villain! Always bullying me! I hate you! Hate you!”
Her delicate fists thudded against the soft pillow, each strike muffled, carrying her anger and helplessness.
Her petite frame shook with exertion, sweat beading on her forehead, silver hair clinging messily to her cheeks, making her look all the more disheveled.
Exhausted, she collapsed onto the bed, deflated, like a balloon drained of air.
The outburst left her sticky and spent.
Dragging herself to the bathroom, she turned on the shower, letting warm water cascade over her weary body, as if it could wash away her fear and uncertainty. Â
Steam rose, clouding the mirror and her thoughts alike.
Ye Lan’s words echoed in her mind—the guests, the “compensation”—each one tightening the vines of dread around her heart, choking her.
That night, sleep eluded her.
Tossing and turning on the soft bed, her mind replayed Ye Lan’s icy gaze and the vague, menacing figures of the “guests.”
A nightmare gripped her: she was surrounded by strangers, their greedy eyes raking over her like blades, their vile words searing her ears.
And there, in the distance, stood Ye Lan, watching coldly, a mocking smile on her lips. Â
The dream was vivid, suffocating, a despair so real it stole her breath.