The escort team member did not respond, only nodding as if it were routine. “Thank you,” she said in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s hum.
She turned and left. Only when the sound of footsteps had completely vanished did Mu Xi slowly raise her head. All the feigned fragility instantly melted from her face, leaving behind only icy vigilance. Was it her imagination? Or had some change in her been noticed?
She walked to the window. The metal window was still only open a crack, just enough to allow a sliver of air to circulate.
The world outside was a dull gray. The desert wind whipped up sand and dust, beating against the Silent Language Building’s sturdy outer walls with a muffled sound.
This place was like an isolated island, cut off from life, imprisoning her as well.
No, she had to be even more careful. Before Ye Lan returned, before she was absolutely sure of herself, she could not reveal the slightest hint.
She placed the meal tray on the table, picked up the kitchen knife she had practiced with countless times, walked to the bed, and lifted the mattress once more.
This time, she didn’t immediately hide the knife. Instead, she gently ran her fingertip over the cold blade, feeling its hardness and sharpness.
“Ye Lan…” she whispered the name. Her voice no longer held only hatred; it was now mixed with a sliver of icy anticipation, like the edge of a quenched blade.
“Hurry back.”
She hid the knife again, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles in the mattress to ensure nothing looked out of place.
Then, she sat back down at the table, picked up her fork, and began to eat calmly. Each bite of food was storing strength for the moment to come.
And her knife was waiting only for that one instant. Ye Lan’s luck would run out eventually.
Mu Xi set down her fork, picked up the glass of milk beside her, and drank it in one go. The cool liquid slid down her throat, bringing a brief clarity.
She walked to the dressing table and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The face was still delicate, pale, but deep in the eyes, a dark flame was burning.
She raised her hand and gently touched her own neck, where Ye Lan’s mark had once been left.
Then, her fingers slowly slid down, coming to rest over her heart.
This place was empty.
Filled with hatred.
Only hatred.
She turned, walked back to the bed, lay down, and closed her eyes.
But in the darkness, her consciousness was incredibly clear, rehearsing the motion of delivering that fatal stab over and over again.
The night wind howled, carrying desert grit, tirelessly beating against the Silent Language Building’s cold alloy exterior.
Inside the building, it was deathly silent.
Mu Xi lay on the bed, breathing steadily, as if she had long since sunk into slumber.
But in the darkness, her eyelashes trembled slightly. Her awareness was as sharp as a polished blade.
An extremely faint sound came from outside the door, almost masked by the wind.
Footsteps. Familiar and steady, carrying a trace of imperceptible fatigue.
Ye Lan was back.
Mu Xi’s heart skipped a beat, then immediately returned to its previous rhythm, even slower and deeper.
She did not move, not even changing her breathing pattern, continuing to play the role of a sound sleeper.
The metal door was pushed open silently and closed again just as quietly.
A complex scent spread through the air: the sharpness of desert dust, the faint trace of gunpowder, and another… a unique, aggressive scent that belonged to Ye Lan.
This mixture of smells was like a microcosm of the cruel world outside.
The footsteps approached the bed and stopped.
Mu Xi could feel a gaze falling upon her, scrutinizing, carrying a certain indescribable, complicated emotion.
Ye Lan seemed to stand there for a very long time, so long that Mu Xi almost began to suspect she had discovered something.
Finally, the mattress dipped slightly as Ye Lan lay down beside her.
A wave of warm air drew near, carrying the residual heat from Ye Lan’s body and that mixed scent.
An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her gently into an embrace. This embrace had once been her nightmare, but now it was her best disguise.
Ye Lan’s breath brushed against the side of her neck, carrying a faint scent of alcohol and the weariness of a long journey.
She truly seemed to believe Mu Xi was asleep. Her movements were gentle, carrying a kind of cautious, almost precious care.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened slightly in the darkness, then relaxed again. She needed to wait. Wait for Ye Lan to completely lower her guard. Wait for her to fall into a truly deep sleep.
Time passed, drop by drop. The sound of the wind outside the window seemed to gradually subside. Ye Lan’s breathing became even and long, and the arm around her loosened a fraction.
Now.
Mu Xi twisted her body restlessly in her sleep, like a startled kitten. The movement was small, but it was just enough to bring her closer to the edge of the mattress. Her fingertips stealthily probed beneath the mattress.
A cold sensation met her touch. It was the handle of the kitchen knife. Her heart suddenly accelerated, blood rushing through her veins, bringing a dizzying surge of excitement.
However, just as her fingertips were about to close around the handle, a leg suddenly snaked over, forcefully wedging itself between her legs, firmly pinning her in place.
Ye Lan’s leg was long and strong, carrying an irresistible force, tightly entangled with hers.
Mu Xi’s movement froze instantly.
She could feel Ye Lan’s breathing was still steady, seemingly not awakened by her small action.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence.
Mu Xi told herself this, but a sense of foreboding rose in her heart.
She forced herself to calm down. Her fingertips finally touched the hard handle, and then, slowly, bit by bit, she pulled out the heavy kitchen knife.
The blade gleamed with a faint, cold light in the darkness.
Mu Xi held her breath, adjusting her grip on the knife, feeling the cold metal fitting against her palm.
She was waiting for the perfect moment, waiting for Ye Lan’s most relaxed instant.
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, almost as if it would break her ribs.
Hatred coiled around her heart like poisonous vines, tightening its grip.
This was the person who had toyed with her, crushed her dignity into dust. All the pain, all the humiliation, would end tonight.
She suddenly flipped over, tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, and with all her strength, stabbed viciously toward the warm body beside her!
Without the slightest hesitation, not a moment of doubt. This stab carried all her hatred and despair.
However, the expected sensation of the blade piercing flesh did not come.
A hand, fast as lightning, precisely caught her wrist.
That hand was icy and powerful, like an iron vise, locking her wrist in place. The tip of the knife was a hair’s breadth from Ye Lan’s heart.
Mu Xi looked up in shock, meeting a pair of phoenix eyes that shone startlingly bright in the darkness.
Those eyes held not a trace of sleepiness, only a deep, unfathomable coldness and understanding.
“As expected… you’ve remembered everything,” Ye Lan’s voice was low and hoarse, carrying a hint of mockery, and perhaps a trace of pain that was hard to detect.
Mu Xi’s heart sank like a stone. So, she had known all along. She had been acting the whole time, waiting for her to slip up.
“Little Xi,” Ye Lan’s fingers brushed against her cheek, the pads of her fingers calloused, gently stroking her pale skin. “I thought you’d keep pretending for a few more days.”
“Let go!” Mu Xi struggled, but her wrist was only gripped tighter, her bones groaning under the strain.
Ye Lan ignored her struggles. Her other hand covered Mu Xi’s cheek, the calloused pads of her fingers gently stroking her pale skin.