Morning light filtered through the Gothic stained glass windows, scattering flecks of brightness across the dark green bedspread.
Mu Xi rubbed her drowsy eyes, her consciousness slowly retreating from the realm of dreams.
She noticed Little An still busying herself in the room, carefully arranging breakfast on the table.
Her silver hair tumbled over her shoulders.
Mu Xi let out a quiet sigh, stepping barefoot onto the Persian Carpet.
Walking to the wardrobe, she casually pulled out a new pair of panties and slipped them on, not bothering to add any other clothing.
Her petite 150cm frame was clad in nothing but underwear, skin so fair it was nearly translucent, and the bright red heart tattoo on her lower abdomen was especially conspicuous in the morning light.
She sat at the table like this, half-naked, completely unconcerned.
The scent of herbal bath lingered on her skin, the blend of milk and perfume drifting warmly through the room.
Little An stood silently nearby, her eyes cast down, face expressionless—but in her gaze flashed a hint of something imperceptibly strange.
When Mu Xi reached for her chopsticks, Little An swiftly stepped forward, blocking her hand.
This was an unspoken understanding between them.
Testing for poison.
The ritual was not a Manor rule, but rather a habit Little An insisted on herself.
At first, Mu Xi had been surprised, but soon she accepted this odd way of coexisting.
Little An picked up Mu Xi’s chopsticks, taking a small sample from every dish and putting it in her mouth.
Mu Xi rested her chin on her palm, silver hair falling over her eyes, never looking away from Little An’s every move.
She watched the subtle movement of Little An’s throat as she chewed, noted the barely perceptible nod she gave after sampling each dish.
‘What a stubborn child,’ Mu Xi whispered inwardly, yet she never stopped her.
Little An’s presence brought a trace of warmth to this cage-like room.
Though she was always silent and her gaze vacant, Mu Xi could sense something hidden beneath that layer of numbness.
After the ritual was done, Little An stepped back, folding her hands over her Maid uniform, bowing her head slightly to indicate that Mu Xi could begin her meal.
Mu Xi picked up her chopsticks; the tips still held the faint warmth of Little An’s lips and teeth.
She glanced thoughtfully at the mute girl beside her.
Silver hair swayed gently, a faint smile in her eyes.
After breakfast, the room was as quiet as always, yet Mu Xi suddenly felt an inexplicable irritation.
The faint chirping of birds drifted through the window, but instead of bringing her joy, the sound only made reality sting all the more.
“Little An, come here.” Mu Xi put down her book and patted the spot beside her.
Little An obediently walked over, her hands folded in front of her Maid uniform, head lowered.
“Sit at the dressing table.” Mu Xi pointed at the vanity, her voice carrying an undeniable command.
Little An did as told, sitting stiffly on the stool, both hands resting on her knees.
Mu Xi walked behind her, slender fingers brushing through Little An’s hair.
“I’m going to give you a pretty hairstyle.” Mu Xi picked up a comb and began to gently smooth Little An’s hair.
Little An’s eyes widened slightly, her reflection in the mirror tinged with surprise, but her expression quickly returned to calm.
Mu Xi’s fingers wove through the black strands, dividing them and beginning to braid.
The act felt foreign even to herself.
Once, as a man, she had never experienced such intimacy between girls.
Now, out of boredom, she found herself playing with someone else’s hair.
“Look, does this look nice?” Mu Xi braided Little An’s hair into a simple plait.
Little An nodded, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror, where the braid hung loosely over her shoulder.
“No, it’s not pretty enough.” Mu Xi shook her head, unraveling the braid to try a different style.
“Let me try another one.”
She twisted Little An’s hair into a bun, but thought it looked too old-fashioned and took it down again.
Then she tried twin tails, a princess style, a half-updo—seriously finishing each one only to undo it and try again, unsatisfied every time.
“How strange.” Mu Xi paused, looking at herself in the mirror.
‘I’m actually playing with someone else’s hair, just like a real girl.’
Little An sat quietly, allowing Mu Xi to do as she pleased, occasionally sneaking glances at Mu Xi’s focused expression in the mirror.
“Do you know?” Mu Xi continued braiding Little An’s hair, her movements becoming more practiced.
“I never thought I’d do this sort of thing before.”
A ripple flickered through Little An’s eyes, but Mu Xi didn’t notice.
Tired of playing with hairstyles, Mu Xi suddenly had a new idea.
She walked to the wardrobe and pulled the door open.
Inside, all sorts of clothes hung neatly in a row.
“If we’re doing hair, why not change outfits too?” Mu Xi turned around, mischief sparkling in her eyes.
“Stand up.”
Little An stood up obediently, still with that wooden expression.
“Take off your clothes.” Mu Xi ordered directly.
Little An’s body trembled slightly, but she didn’t hesitate, starting to unbutton her Maid uniform.
Mu Xi noticed that Little An’s fingers weren’t very nimble at undoing buttons, as if she seldom undressed herself.
When the Maid uniform slipped to the floor, Little An stood before Mu Xi in nothing but plain underwear—her frame thin, skin pale, with several old scars on her body.
Mu Xi picked a blue dress from the wardrobe and handed it to Little An.
“Try this on.”
Little An took the dress and clumsily slipped it on.
The dress was a bit small for her, but she managed to squeeze into it.
“No, this one doesn’t suit you.” Mu Xi shook her head.
“Take it off, let’s try something else.”
So, Little An kept putting on and taking off all sorts of clothes: ornate dresses, thin nightgowns, even Mu Xi’s own underwear.
Each time she changed, Mu Xi would carefully assess the look before deciding to try something new.
“This dress matches your skin tone,” Mu Xi circled Little An, “but it’s too tight, makes you look huge.”
Little An stood silently, letting Mu Xi arrange her as she pleased, her gaze always following Mu Xi’s movements.
“Take it off, try this one.” Mu Xi handed her a red slip dress.
Little An stripped again, her pale body especially striking in the morning light.
Suddenly, Mu Xi noticed a slender scar on Little An’s shoulder.
“How did you get this scar?” Mu Xi reached out and lightly touched it.
Little An stiffened, a flash of fear in her eyes, but she still kept silent.
Mu Xi didn’t press further, helping her slip on the red dress.
The fit was perfect; the red added a touch of color to Little An’s pallor.
“Turn around.” Mu Xi commanded.
Little An slowly spun, the skirt hem rising and falling.
“This one suits you.”
Mu Xi nodded, a trace of self-mockery in her voice, “What am I doing? Clearly locked up here, yet I’m playing dress-up.”
Little An kept her head lowered, but Mu Xi noticed her lips seemed to curve ever so slightly.
Mu Xi caught that fleeting hint of a smile at the corner of Little An’s lips, but quickly dismissed it as an illusion.
After all, in her mind, this dull girl’s expressions seemed programmed—pre-set and unchanging.
‘How could she possibly smile all of a sudden?’
“All right, the dress-up show is over.”
Mu Xi waved her hand, as if releasing her puppet from its strings.
She suddenly felt a bit embarrassed and said, “I really am losing my mind in here.”