Every vibration brought by the swing of her hand, Mu Xi’s every tremble and sob, felt like fuel added to her spiraling emotions.
She even began to indulge in it.
Indulging in this absolute control, in the vulnerability Mu Xi had completely exposed to her, and in this eerie atmosphere where pain intertwined with a secret connection.
Her breathing grew heavy, and a flame bordering on madness ignited deep within her gaze.
Mu Xi wailed heart-wrenchingly, her voice entirely hoarse.
She reached out, trying to grab the arm Ye Lan was swinging down, but her attempt was easily evaded.
“Please… Ye Lan… I was wrong… stop…”
“Slap!”
Another loud slap landed on Mu Xi’s face.
Mu Xi’s head was knocked to the side, a thin trail of bright red blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.
She no longer begged for mercy; she simply opened her tear-soaked eyes, looking at Ye Lan in disbelief.
That gaze was filled with fear, pain, and a trace of utter despair.
Seeing the despair in her eyes, Ye Lan’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an icy hand, the pain nearly suffocating her.
‘Who was she? What was she doing?’
She looked at her still-raised hand, then at the tear-stained and bruised face of the woman she loved so dearly.
“No…” A broken syllable forced its way out of Ye Lan’s throat, carrying endless regret and self-loathing.
Yet, her hand still rose again, out of her control.
Mu Xi closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling like the wings of a dying butterfly.
A single tear of despair rolled down her pale cheek.
The night was thick, like ink that wouldn’t dissolve, tightly enveloping the off-road RV.
Inside the cabin, only Mu Xi’s uncontrollable, low weeping remained — fragmented like rain hitting banana leaves — alongside Ye Lan’s heavy, unsteady breathing, sounding like a beast on the verge of losing control.
The raised hand finally hesitated in the air for a moment before slowly dropping in a near-convulsive manner.
It wasn’t a gentle caress; it was more as if she had lost all her strength, merely letting it fall.
Ye Lan watched Mu Xi’s closed eyelashes; those fragile butterfly wings were still quivering, and the path of the tear was clearly visible on her pale cheek.
The sharp pain in her chest didn’t dissipate; instead, it turned into a piercing, cold self-reproach that almost froze her whole being.
What was she doing?
What had she done to her Little Xi?
No words were spoken.
An apology would seem so pale and powerless at this moment, perhaps even a deeper insult.
Ye Lan simply reached out her arms, her movements carrying a stiff, hesitant fear of touching, and finally pulled the petite body curled in the corner into her embrace.
Mu Xi’s body tensed instantly.
A slight tremor traveled through the thin fabric of her clothes, carrying dread and pain.
But she didn’t push her away.
She only buried her head deeper, hiding her tear-stained and newly bruised face in the crook of Ye Lan’s neck.
Ye Lan tightened her arms, locking her firmly in the embrace.
This hug carried an indisputable force — it was both a comfort and a tyrannical declaration of sovereignty.
She could clearly feel the slenderness of the bones in her arms, as if they would break with just a little more force.
She could smell the crisp scent of Mu Xi’s hair, mixed with a faint, ghostly metallic tang of blood.
It was a scent she had personally caused.
Mu Xi’s body rose and fell slightly with her breathing.
Like a young animal that, after being frightened, had no choice but to huddle beside the Master who had just harmed it, she instinctively sought that familiar yet contradictory warmth and protection.
Mu Xi stopped crying, only letting out an extremely soft sob every now and then.
Her dependence and her submission remained stubbornly present even after enduring such treatment.
This realization made Ye Lan’s heart tighten again; a dense pain, accompanied by a twisted sense of satisfaction, quietly sprouted.
The RV’s climate control system operated quietly, shielding them from the intense heat or cold of The Desert outside.
The soft lighting outlined the silhouette of the two figures embracing, projecting onto the beige interior walls and forming an eerie, tranquil scene.
Time seemed to lose its meaning.
One second, one minute, one hour.
The pulsing numbers on the control panel were the only reference.
Ye Lan didn’t move, nor did she sleep.
She just held Mu Xi, feeling her body temperature, her breathing, and her existence.
The previous scenes replayed constantly in her mind.
Her uncontrolled rage, Mu Xi’s tearful pleas, that crisp slap, and the light that finally went out in Mu Xi’s eyes.
Regret was like a poisonous vine wrapping around her heart, tightening more and more.
At the same time, another deeper, darker emotion stirred at the bottom of her heart.
The pleasure of control — the proof that Mu Xi belonged entirely to her, even in such a cruel way.
Love and the desire for destruction intertwined wildly within her, nearly tearing her apart.
Mu Xi seemed to have fallen asleep; her breathing became even and long.
Her long silver hair spread across Ye Lan’s arms.
Moonlight filtered through the cracks of the reinforced glass windows, casting a faint glow on the tips of her hair like flowing stardust.
Ye Lan lowered her head, looking closely at the person in her arms by the dim light.
Mu Xi’s cheek was slightly swollen, and the stinging streak of blood at the corner of her mouth had already solidified into a dark brown.
On her fair skin, the finger marks were clearly visible, and the purplish bruises looked particularly startling under the soft light.
These injuries were all left by her.
Ye Lan extended a finger, hovering it over Mu Xi’s cheek.
She hesitated for a long time, but ultimately didn’t touch her.
She was afraid of losing control again, and also afraid of waking her.
She maintained the embrace until the sky outside turned from deep blue to a pale grey, then gradually stained with the golden light of dawn.
The sunrise in the Desert was always magnificent and desolate, but the people inside the RV had no time to appreciate it.
Mu Xi woke up.
Her long eyelashes fluttered a few times before she slowly opened her eyes.
Perhaps because of her sleeping position or the pain in her body, she frowned slightly and let out a very faint whimper.
When she met Ye Lan’s deep eyes, she visibly winced, her body instinctively trying to shrink back, only to be held even tighter.
Ye Lan hadn’t slept all night, and her eyes were bloodshot, but her expression had strangely calmed down.
Seeing the flash of fear in Mu Xi’s eyes, her heart felt as if it had been pricked by a needle.
She loosened her arms, her voice raspy from staying up, but she deliberately made it gentle, “Are you awake?”
Mu Xi didn’t answer.
She only lowered her eyelids, avoiding her gaze.
The injuries on her cheek and the corner of her mouth were even more obvious in the morning light, making her look like a broken Porcelain Doll.
Ye Lan stared at the injuries on her face and remained silent for a moment.
Then, as if making a major decision, she took a deep breath and spoke in a tone that was almost tender, “I’ll make you breakfast.”
This tone and the subject matter were a sharp contrast to the violence of the previous night, as if all of it had never happened.
Mu Xi’s body trembled imperceptibly.
She looked up at Ye Lan.
Her eyes, soaked with tears before, were still somewhat swollen, but she looked up at her now.
She didn’t interrogate her, didn’t complain, and didn’t even show a trace of resentment.
She simply gave a small nod, a gesture so obedient it was heartbreaking.
Ye Lan’s heart was gripped by a complex emotion once more.
She got out of bed, her stiff muscles making her frown slightly as she moved.
She walked toward the simple kitchen in the rear of the cabin, opened the storage cabinet, and took out the ingredients.
The frying pan sat on the induction cooker, letting out a faint hum.
She skillfully cracked eggs and poured milk, her movements fluid.
Mu Xi sat on the sofa, her body curled up, silently watching Ye Lan’s busy back.
Her gaze fell on Ye Lan without focus or emotion.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a bright patch of light on her, making her appear all the more thin and fragile.
The pain and fear of the previous night seemed to have been sealed away by an invisible membrane, making her look like an exquisite, soulless doll.