When Mu Xi woke up, she found herself naked and secured to an Iron Bed, the cold metal pressed tightly against her skin.
Her hands and feet were bound firmly with rough iron wires, immovable no matter how much she struggled.
A bone-chilling cold seeped from the bed’s surface into her spine, causing her to shiver uncontrollably.
A few oil lamps hung on the Dungeon walls, their faint flames casting flickering shadows against the stone.
The damp air was thick with the smell of mildew and rust, mixed with a lingering metallic scent of blood.
The dripping of water echoed sharply in the silence.
Mu Xi glanced around; in one corner of the Prison Cell, there was a pile of straw stained dark brown.
Manacles and Chains on the walls gleamed coldly, their corroded surfaces telling tales of unspeakable horrors once committed here.
Moss of an unknown kind sprouted between the stone slabs on the floor, showing a sickly green under the dim light.
A rat darted out from a hole in the wall but quickly disappeared again upon seeing Mu Xi.
Occasionally, faint moans came from the corridor outside—the other Prisoners, their voices hollow and hopeless.
Mu Xi took a deep breath, the foul mixture of decay and despair filling her lungs.
“Back here again, this Dungeon,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with fear.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the iron door, and Mu Xi’s entire body tensed.
The steps grew closer, accompanied by the clinking of keys.
The nightmare was about to begin.
“Broken hands? Broken feet? Or some other part?”
Mu Xi bit her lower lip, forcing herself to stay calm.
She had seen those “handled” by Ye Lan—some had lost their eyes, some their tongues, others had organs removed.
Even more terrifying were those who appeared intact but were mentally shattered.
The lock’s tumblers clicked as it turned.
Mu Xi closed her eyes and silently apologized to Li Xin.
If not for her, Li Xin wouldn’t have lost both legs.
And now, Mu Xi herself was about to face the same—or worse—fate.
The iron door slowly creaked open, blinding light pouring into the cell.
Squinting, Mu Xi saw a familiar figure standing at the entrance, her elegant silhouette sharp and cold against the backlight.
The moment Ye Lan pushed the door open, the light stabbed into the dark cell like a sword.
She stepped in lightly, a faint smile playing at her lips, as if merely visiting a beloved treasure.
The iron door shut slowly behind her with a dull thud, sealing Mu Xi’s last chance of escape.
The air inside the cell seemed to freeze with her arrival.
Ye Lan stood by the bed, the scent of her expensive perfume sharply contrasting with the dungeon’s rot.
She looked down at the bound Mu Xi, her eyes gleaming with an indescribable light.
“My little nightingale,” Ye Lan’s voice was as smooth as silk, “Seeing you in a place like this, it’s truly heartbreaking.”
Her fingers touched Mu Xi’s bare skin, gentle as if handling a fragile work of art.
Long fingertips traced down from her collarbone, following the curves of her body, resting on the bright red heart tattoo on her lower abdomen.
She softly stroked the mark, as if caressing her own private seal.
“This heart will forever belong to me,” she whispered, her voice nearly drowned by the drip of water.
Mu Xi’s whole body tensed, her skin trembling between the icy metal bed and Ye Lan’s warm fingertips.
She opened her mouth to say something—to preserve her last shred of dignity—maybe a word of defiance, or a mocking laugh—but when her gaze met Ye Lan’s fathomless eyes, all her prepared words caught in her throat.
Those eyes held too much: possessiveness, cruelty, excitement, and a kind of sick tenderness.
Mu Xi had seen this look before—just like when Ye Lan broke Li Xin’s legs.
Fear surged like a tide, and Mu Xi instinctively turned her head away, avoiding that scorching gaze; the words on her lips dissolved into silence.
Ye Lan stared down at the bound Mu Xi, a dangerous gleam flickering in her eyes.
Her lips curled into a slight smile, one far more terrifying than the shadows of the Dungeon.
“Ready to accept your punishment?” Ye Lan’s voice remained smooth as silk, but carried an undeniable authority.
Mu Xi closed her eyes, Li Xin’s powerless legs flashing through her mind.
She bit her lip; the mingled scents of milk and perfume drifted from her quickening breaths into the cold air.
“Come, I’m willing to pay the price for what I did.” Her voice was soft but surprisingly calm, as if prepared for the worst.
The clinking of metal echoed through the Dungeon.
Mu Xi tensed every muscle, waiting for the coming pain—whether blades, heated iron rods, or something worse.
She silently counted the seconds, bracing for the first wave of agony.
Yet what touched her skin was an almost imperceptible lightness.
Mu Xi opened her eyes in confusion and saw Ye Lan holding a long white feather, gently sweeping it under her bare armpit.
The sensation was subtle, hovering between a tickle and a caress, catching her completely off guard.
“Wh-what?” she asked uncertainly, but before she could finish, an uncontrollable tickling surged through her.
Ye Lan’s feather danced in her armpit, precise and deliberate, as if she knew every sensitive spot on Mu Xi’s body.
Mu Xi suddenly struggled violently, Chains clinking sharply.
“Haha… no… stop… ahahaha…” she writhed, laughter spilling uncontrollably from her throat, creating a grotesque contrast with the other Prisoners’ moans.
Ye Lan’s gaze deepened.
She moved the feather to Mu Xi’s lower abdomen, lightly brushing around the bright red heart tattoo.
The tickling shot through Mu Xi’s body like electricity; her laughter broke into sobs, her struggles growing more desperate.
“Laugh, my little pet,” Ye Lan’s voice turned hoarse, “Your laughter is far more beautiful than your singing.”
Mu Xi’s body tightened to the limit, her muscles twitching from prolonged laughter.
Just as she felt herself near suffocation, Ye Lan suddenly stopped.
The tickling vanished, and Mu Xi gasped for air, tears streaming down her cheeks, mingling with sweat that dampened her silvery hair.
Her chest heaved wildly, just as she was about to relax, the feather touched her navel again.
“Please… don’t…” her plea transformed into another uncontrollable bout of laughter, her body arching on the Iron Bed as Chains bit deep into her slender wrists.
Ye Lan watched her reaction with a satisfied gleam in her eyes.
Her punishments were always like this—not through pain, but through overwhelming sensory stimulation, breaking her prey completely under her control.
“Remember this feeling.” Ye Lan leaned close, whispering into Mu Xi’s ear, “This is only the beginning.”
The feather brushed once more over Mu Xi’s trembling skin.
The Dungeon echoed with her uncontrollable laughter, mingled with the clashing of Chains, stirring ripples of sound against the damp stone walls.
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