Letting out a long breath, Mu Xi switched on the small lamp on her bedside table.
The warm glow chased away the shadows in the room.
Her trembling fingertips gradually steadied, her slender body no longer taut with fear.
She took paper and pen from the drawer, closed her eyes, and recalled that bloody, mangled face.
Every twisted wrinkle, every terrifying detail surfaced vividly in her mind.
Long hair draped down on either side of her fair cheeks, making her look even paler.
This was the method Mu Xi’s Mother had taught her in her previous life, when nightmares plagued her sleep.
‘Fear cannot be avoided. If you wish to conquer it, you must face it head-on.’ Her mother’s gentle voice seemed to echo in her ears.
The pencil scratched out the first line on the paper.
Mu Xi bit her lower lip.
Fear curled around her heart like vines, but she didn’t stop.
Stroke by stroke, that nightmare face gradually took shape.
Distorted features, bloodshot eyes, a mouth lifted in a grotesque smile.
“Hoo…” Mu Xi set down the pencil and stared at the drawing on the paper.
In the first few seconds, a chill crept up her spine.
But as time passed, the fear began to fade.
“So that’s all it is.” She murmured softly, fingertips brushing across the paper.
Next came the most crucial step.
Mu Xi picked up colored pencils and began transforming the horrific face.
First, she filled out the cheeks, making the gaunt, frightening outline round and full; then she enlarged the eyes, drawing them big and round, adding sparkling pupils; finally, she turned the fierce expression into a beaming smile, and drew a few playful cat whiskers.
“It’s cute now.” The corners of Mu Xi’s lips lifted, the pallor of her face gradually warming with color.
A comical, cat-like face replaced the terrifying human one.
Mu Xi couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
That small laugh seemed especially precious in the night, like a ray of light illuminating the darkness of her captive life.
She turned the drawing over and over in her hands, her original fear of nightmares washed away like footprints on the sand by the tides of time.
Mu Xi folded the paper and tucked it under her pillow—a habitual gesture, as if this could seal her fears away for good.
Outside, dark clouds blocked the moonlight, and the entire Manor was plunged into deeper darkness.
Mu Xi lay back down, her gaze drifting over the heavy, drawn curtains.
Nightmares might return, but for now, at least, she felt she’d regained a small sense of control.
In this luxurious cage, this tiny victory was, to Mu Xi, like a drop of sweet dew in the desert.
For the next few days, Mu Xi was trapped in her room.
Time passed in boredom, every minute and second stretching endlessly.
Sometimes she stood a short distance from the floor-to-ceiling windows, peering through the stained glass at the distant woods; sometimes she reclined on the chaise lounge, flipping through books, but rarely managed to read more than a few pages; sometimes she sat by the bed, dazed, her thoughts drifting off to unknown places.
Until that day, when Ye Lan pushed open the door and entered.
“Master.” Mu Xi immediately stood, her silver hair swaying with the movement.
Today Ye Lan wore a fitted black suit, making her figure look even more striking.
She approached Mu Xi, her long fingers gently brushing Mu Xi’s cheek.
“That traitor has already been caught and quietly executed.” Ye Lan’s tone was calm, as if she were merely discussing the weather.
Mu Xi’s heart tightened; her first reaction was to worry about Little An.
She didn’t dare ask directly, only pretending nothing was wrong.
“Master, may I go outside for a walk?” Mu Xi blinked, her eyes under long lashes tinged with a bit of grievance.
“I’ve been in this room so long, I’m about to suffocate.”
Ye Lan’s lips curved slightly, “Of course you can. You’re free to go anywhere in the Manor now.”
Mu Xi was secretly delighted, but on the surface only nodded gently.
She wanted to ask who the traitor was, how they had been executed, but the words caught in her throat.
Anything Ye Lan didn’t bring up on her own surely had its reasons.
Asking rashly would only arouse suspicion.
“Thank you, Master.” Mu Xi lowered her head, hiding the complicated emotions in her eyes.
Ye Lan turned to the window, her back to Mu Xi.
“Do you want to know who the traitor was?” Ye Lan suddenly asked.
Mu Xi’s heart skipped a beat.
“If Master wishes to tell me, I’ll listen. If not, I’ll never want to know.”
Ye Lan didn’t reply, only chuckled lightly and left the room.
Once the door was shut, Mu Xi let out a long breath, finally able to relax her tense body.
She sat down at the bedside, thoughts tumbling through her mind.
‘Was the traitor really executed?’
‘Or was Ye Lan testing me?’
‘How was Little An now?’
These questions swirled in her mind, but no answers could be found.
Mu Xi got up and walked to the window.
She didn’t believe Ye Lan’s words—not completely, at least.
Without seeing the so-called traitor’s corpse herself, without confirming that person was truly the traitor, everything was just Ye Lan’s side of the story.
But Mu Xi also knew her own abilities were limited.
In this Manor, she was nothing but a caged Golden Canary, her wings long since clipped.
Even if she felt resentful, for now she could only go along.
Upon regaining her freedom, Mu Xi immediately went to the Dungeon to look for He Yi.
She carefully crossed the Garden, avoiding the patrolling guards.
The moonlight was like water, shining on the neatly trimmed hedges and providing her perfect cover.
Mu Xi’s heartbeat sped up, every step full of vigilance.
This was her first truly “free action,” yet not for enjoyment, but to seek the truth.
The entrance to the Dungeon was hidden deep in the woods—if she hadn’t been there before, she’d never have found it.
Mu Xi followed the winding downward path; the air grew damp and chilly.
She couldn’t help but wrap her coat tighter around her, silver hair glowing faintly in the dim light.
She pushed open the rusty iron door.
The familiar stench of rot hit her at once.
Mu Xi held her breath, following the route she remembered.
The drip of water echoed sharply in the silent Dungeon, every sound pounding on her taut nerves.
After a few turns, she finally found the target cell.
He Yi, using the identity of Wuhen, was bending over, handling a corpse with skilled, unhurried movements.
At the sound of footsteps, she looked up.
When she recognized Mu Xi, a trace of surprise flashed in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” He Yi didn’t stop what she was doing, but her voice softened a little.
Mu Xi leaned against the cell door, her gaze flicking over the unrecognizable corpse, her stomach churning.
She forced herself to look away and met He Yi’s eyes.
“Do you know what’s been happening in the Manor lately?”
He Yi let out a cold laugh, the blade in her hand glinting under the dim light.
“Of course I know. Ye Lan’s precious darling has been attacked twice in a row. You think she wouldn’t go mad?”
He Yi put down the knife and wiped the blood from her hands.
“The whole Manor’s been turned upside down. I almost exposed myself.”
“That traitor, do you know who it was?” Mu Xi lowered her voice and asked.
He Yi stood and went to the bucket to wash her hands.
Blood swirled in the water, like blooming black flowers.
“Someone from the Lin Jun Squad, but I’m not sure exactly who.” She flicked water off her hands.
“But I’m sure that wasn’t the real traitor.”
Mu Xi’s eyes lit up, “You think so too?”
“The real traitor is still in the Manor and could strike again at any time.”
He Yi turned to face Mu Xi, a dangerous glint in her eyes, “You’d best be careful—the next attack could be tomorrow.”
Mu Xi involuntarily stepped back half a pace, “Who do you think it might be?”