Little An gazed at Mu Xi the same way, her eyes still hollow.
No soul, no life, nothing— not even the passion from just moments ago, as if it were nothing more than an illusion.
Her eyes were like two dark wells; Mu Xi tried to find a trace of emotion in them but only saw her own distorted reflection.
It was as if Little An existed solely as a tool for Mu Xi to release the suppressed desires within her at this moment, a puppet without self-awareness.
Moonlight poured through the Gothic spire window, casting a hazy silver glow over the bed.
Outside, the manor lay bathed in the quiet of the night.
Mu Xi could hear the beat of her own heart and Little An’s steady breathing.
Aside from that, the entire world seemed frozen in time.
She stared at the ceiling for a while, her thoughts tangled like a mess of threads.
She was ashamed of losing control, puzzled by Little An’s unusual behavior, and worried that Miss Ye Lan might find out about all of this.
In the end, Mu Xi threw caution to the wind and reached out, pulling the fragile girl into her arms.
Little An’s body stiffened for a moment, then obediently nestled against Mu Xi’s chest.
Her body was warm and soft, yet felt like a cold stone, without any response.
Mu Xi gently stroked Little An’s hair, feeling the fine strands slip through her fingers.
This intimate contact brought a flicker of comfort.
The double exhaustion from the medicinal bath and lovemaking finally overcame her.
Mu Xi’s eyelids grew heavy, and her consciousness began to blur.
Her last moment of clarity was feeling Little An’s hand gently cover hers, as if a faint warmth was seeping out from that cold shell.
Then, Mu Xi closed her eyes and sank into a deep and terrifying dream.
In the dream, Mu Xi found her lower abdomen swollen and rounded, full and taut like a full moon.
Against her slender figure, it looked utterly out of place.
The thin nightgown traced that unnatural outline tightly, making her waist ache.
Two maids with indistinct faces, dressed in pure black Gothic dresses with exquisitely intricate lace edges, approached her carrying silver vessels.
The cold metal reflected an eerie gleam under the light.
She was sitting on a massive round table, covered with thick crimson velvet that felt soft yet as if it might swallow her whole.
Scattered across the tabletop were unknown herbs and glistening droplets, exuding a heavy fragrance mixed with the scent of milk and perfume on her body— suffocating.
Surrounding the table were men and women whose faces she could not make out.
They wore luxurious formal attire, their masks revealing only smiles curved upward at the edges.
The light cast twisted shadows on them, like a horde of demons awaiting their sacrifice.
They laughed, their voices low and hollow, echoing in Mu Xi’s ears like a summons from hell.
Their eyes gleamed with greed and anticipation, their gazes sharp as knives, carving into Mu Xi’s bare skin.
Overcome with shame, Mu Xi tried to cover her body.
But she found her hands bound by invisible forces, powerless as those eyes roamed freely.
Her tears slipped silently down, only provoking more laughter.
Suddenly, a sharp pain struck her abdomen, as if pierced by countless knives at once.
Mu Xi curled up, hair spilling onto the table, her belly twitching irregularly as cold sweat poured down her face.
In terror, she realized she was going to give birth before all those people.
The uncontrollable feeling drove her to the brink of collapse.
She could feel something descending inside her, and the audience’s laughter grew louder.
Mu Xi screamed, her voice sharp and desperate, struggling to escape.
But her body was nailed to the spot, unable to move, only able to endure the waves of tearing pain.
Her screams pierced through the veil of the dream, abruptly waking her.
Cold sweat drenched her hair and silk nightgown; her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
When she awoke, golden sunlight was already streaming through the window, casting a warm glow over the dark sheets.
The manor’s outline outside was clear in the morning light.
She still lay in her oversized bed, the dark green silk sheets rumpled from her tossing, clinging to her sweat-soaked body and outlining her petite frame.
Little An stood quietly by the bedside, disturbed by Mu Xi’s scream.
Her hollow eyes stared blankly at her, her pale face unreadable.
The girl wore a neat Maid outfit, black and white fabric pristine.
Her hands were neatly folded in front of her, as if she’d been standing there for a long time yet also as if she’d just appeared.
Her gaze remained numb, showing no reaction to Mu Xi’s terror.
She simply stared mechanically, waiting for possible orders.
Her rough little hands clenched and unclenched softly in front of her.
Mu Xi smiled awkwardly, subconsciously touching her flat belly—the place that had bulged in the dream.
The memory of fear made her smile forced and stiff.
“I dreamed I was pregnant. I hope it won’t come true.”
She spoke softly, avoiding Little An’s eyes as if afraid her inner fear would be seen through.
She lifted the dark green silk covers and stepped barefoot onto the soft Persian Carpet.
Her silk nightgown clung to her slender figure, damp with sweat.
Mu Xi walked to the wardrobe and took out a light, pale blue dress.
The fabric was soft as clouds, shimmering subtly in the morning light.
It was one of the “pet outfits” carefully chosen for her by Ye Lan, elegant yet infused with a lively girlish spirit.
Turning her back to Little An, she slipped off the soaked nightgown, revealing smooth skin along her back.
After dressing, Mu Xi went to the vanity, sat on the gilded chair, and picked up a silver comb to brush through her long silver hair.
The mirror reflected her delicate face.
Though her eyes beneath long lashes looked tired from the nightmare, they still shone with life and charm.
Little An silently approached from behind, taking the comb from Mu Xi’s hand.
Her movements were mechanical but surprisingly gentle as she carefully untangled the knots caused by sleep, cautious not to hurt Mu Xi.
Once her hair was brushed, Mu Xi stepped into the bathroom and washed her face with warm water, feeling the cool flow wash away the lingering shadows of the dream.
She looked up at her reflection.
This female face was now a part of her, but the male soul inside still perceived everything clearly.
Together, Mu Xi and Little An walked toward the dining hall.
Sunlight passed through the stained-glass windows in the corridor, casting colorful shadows on the marble floor.
As they stepped forward, the shifting light beneath their feet was like walking on a moving rainbow.
Breakfast was abundant—golden toasted bread, rich milk, fresh fruit salad, and a small dish of honey, all served on pure white bone china, filling the morning air with tempting aromas.
She ate slowly, glancing at Little An across from her.
The girl’s movements remained mechanical, but Mu Xi noticed a flicker of something unusual in her eyes, reminding her of the little hand that had covered her own the night before.
After breakfast, Mu Xi decided to take a walk in the garden, to breathe fresh air and forget that dreadful dream.
She nodded to Little An, signaling her to follow.
The two walked out of the dining hall in single file, stepping onto the corridor leading to the manor’s garden.