Mu Xi paused, her heartbeat quickening uncontrollably.
“Tomorrow, a car will come to pick me up.”
Ling Yue stepped close to Mu Xi, speaking almost right against her ear, “Come with me. Hide in the car’s trunk. The guards are half as many as before, and the rest are distracted. As long as we’re not too obvious, no one will check carefully.”
Mu Xi fell silent for a moment, the timid gaze of Little An and the heroic face of Li Xin flashing through her mind.
She looked up, her voice soft but resolute, “Can we bring Little An and Li Xin with us?”
Ling Yue’s expression froze in an instant.
She shook her head, “Impossible. I can only take you. Three people would be too much, too conspicuous—it would likely fail.”
“Then I’m not leaving.” Mu Xi almost blurted it out, with not a hint of hesitation in her tone, “I’ll find my own way. Teacher, you should go by yourself.”
A trace of disappointment and confusion flashed in Ling Yue’s eyes.
“Do you know how rare this opportunity is? Ye Lan isn’t here, the guards are lax. This might never happen again!”
Mu Xi lowered her gaze, her long lashes casting a shadow across her face as she said, “I understand, but I absolutely will not leave alone.”
She looked up, her determination so clear it surprised Ling Yue, “Little An and Li Xin are very important to me. I can’t leave them behind.”
Ling Yue stared deeply at Mu Xi, as if searching her clear eyes for any sign of wavering.
But in the end, she found only resolve.
With a soft sigh, she elegantly tidied the collar of her qipao and said, “I see. In that case, I can only wish you well.”
Mu Xi bowed to Ling Yue, “Thank you for your kindness, Teacher. I wish you a safe journey, too.”
Sunlight streamed through the stained glass window, casting hazy patterns of light and shadow between them, as if placing a silent, complicated full stop at the end of their conversation.
***
Night fell quietly over the Manor, soft lamplight scattered around Mu Xi’s room.
She sat alone at the old desk, her slender fingers gently turning the pages of a hardcover poetry collection.
The wooden surface of the desk reflected a warm glow.
From time to time, Mu Xi would look out at the night, then return to the world within her book.
From the bathroom came the faint sound of water.
Little An was kneeling on the floor, focused on scrubbing a pile of clothes that had accumulated over several days.
Her fingers were rough from years of work, but her movements were practiced and precise.
Water droplets slipped down her wrist, soaking her rolled-up sleeve.
She didn’t notice, her gaze focused on a pale pink silk undergarment—one Mu Xi had worn just yesterday.
Listening to the water, Mu Xi felt a pang of guilt in her heart.
She lowered her head, looking at her own fair, slender hands, their tips marked faintly from years of playing piano.
These hands had never done heavy chores—she didn’t even know how to properly wash clothes.
Though she felt guilty for not being able to help, she also knew her own status and situation.
What she didn’t know was that deep inside, Little An felt immense satisfaction being able to touch each of Mu Xi’s garments with her own hands—especially those intimate little pieces.
It was as if, in this way, she could draw a little closer to the mistress she so revered.
Outside, the tension lingered; the guards’ footsteps were sometimes hurried, sometimes lazy but inside, Mu Xi felt an unusual calm.
She had an almost superstitious faith in Ye Lan’s ability to control everything.
No matter what happened, that proud and dangerous woman would always find the perfect solution.
Especially when it came to her own safety, Ye Lan had never let anything slip.
Thinking of this, Mu Xi let out a soft sigh and closed her book, setting it on the desk.
As night deepened, the temperature in the room rose rather than fell.
Mu Xi tossed and turned on her bed, until at last she took off her outer clothes and lay down wearing only a thin, pale undergarment.
Unconsciously, she kicked off the silk blanket, exposing her long, fair legs.
Her silver hair fanned out across the pillow.
Sleep quickly claimed her, her breathing becoming gentle and even.
Little An stood in the shadowed corner of the room, unmoving like a guardian.
She’d long since grown used to staying awake all night.
To protect Mu Xi, she could remain vigilant until dawn but tonight, her gaze couldn’t leave Mu Xi for a single moment.
Those usually hollow, numb eyes now flickered with an unusual light.
The only sound in the room was Mu Xi’s steady breathing.
Like a cat, Little An moved noiselessly, edging closer to the bed.
Her gaze lingered on Mu Xi’s smooth legs, her throat bobbing involuntarily.
In the end, she could no longer resist the urge in her heart.
Bending down, she carefully leaned over the bedside, her nose almost touching Mu Xi’s leg.
She inhaled greedily, savoring the unique scent—a blend of milk and perfume—then, trembling as if in worship, gently extended her tongue to lick that jade-like skin.
Mu Xi’s body shuddered slightly, her delicate eyebrows knitting for a moment before relaxing.
She unconsciously pursed her lips, drifting even deeper into her dreams.
Little An’s breathing grew rapid and heavy, her fingers grazing Mu Xi’s smooth calf as if touching fragile porcelain.
The sensation was even softer than she’d imagined—like the finest silk.
Her tongue darted out again, starting at the ankle and slowly tracing upward along the long, slender leg, leaving behind an almost invisible trail of dampness.
She could feel the warmth of Mu Xi’s skin beneath her tongue, the touch making her whole body tremble.
When her lips and tongue reached above Mu Xi’s knee, Mu Xi suddenly shuddered again—this time more noticeably.
A muffled murmur escaped her throat, her head turning slightly to the side, silver hair spilling across the pillow like a stream under moonlight.
Her eyelids fluttered, as if she might wake at any moment.
Little An’s heart nearly stopped.
With astonishing speed and agility, she straightened up, stepping back two paces, adopting a stance as if she’d just finished inspecting the room.
Her fingers trembled faintly, but her expression had returned to its usual numb emptiness—only the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed her inner turmoil.
Mu Xi’s breathing changed rhythm for a few seconds, but soon steadied again.
She turned over, her back to Little An, and continued to sleep.
Little An stood where she was, unmoving, waiting several minutes to be sure Mu Xi hadn’t woken before finally breathing a quiet sigh of relief.
She dared not approach the bed again.
On the one hand, that brief contact had left her heart almost bursting with satisfaction; on the other, she was keenly aware of how dangerous her actions had been.
If Mu Xi ever found out, she would surely be disgusted and repulsed.
Little An retreated to the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, though her eyes still couldn’t leave Mu Xi’s body.
She licked her lips, as if still tasting the skin’s flavor—the mix of milk and perfume was already deeply imprinted in her memory.
Mu Xi slept uneasily, plagued by strange sensations of being touched in her dreams, leaving her uncomfortable all over.
When she awoke, a sudden urge to relieve herself struck, but she was reluctant to get up right away.
She tossed and turned for a while, finally forced to throw off the covers by the ache in her bladder.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet, her silver hair tousled around her shoulders.
She wore only that thin, pale undergarment, tugging subconsciously at the hem as she walked toward the bathroom.
The moment she pushed open the door, Mu Xi froze.
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