Mu Xi lowered her head, hiding the emotions in her eyes. She couldn’t let Ye Lan see her true thoughts.
Gritting her teeth, Mu Xi once again pushed her aching body upright. She walked to the corner, leaned back against the cold alloy wall, and slowly sat down. Pretense was her only weapon now.
“Get up,” Ye Lan ordered.
She chose a spot where she could see out the window. The night was deep, with only nine sparse stars twinkling on the dark blue velvet sky. Ye Lan picked up a document and began reading, paying her no further mind as she turned and walked back to the bed to sit down. The sound of turning pages was exceptionally clear in the silent room.
Time passed, second by second.
Nights in the Silent Language Building were particularly long. The smell of disinfectant in the air seemed to have grown stronger.
Mu Xi maintained her sitting posture, not moving a muscle. Drowsiness washed over her in waves, assaulting her nerves. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, her consciousness beginning to blur.
She pinched her thigh hard, the sharp pain instantly clearing her mind a little.
Can’t sleep. Absolutely cannot sleep.
She began to repeatedly recall in her mind the torture Ye Lan had inflicted on her, to recall the suffering Li Xin and Little An might be enduring.
Hatred and worry were like fuel, propping up her teetering will. She needed to stay awake, to wait for an opportunity.
Ye Lan occasionally looked up, her gaze sweeping over her before returning to the documents.
That calm posture made it seem as if Mu Xi was merely an insignificant piece of furniture in the room.
An unknown amount of time passed. Outside the window, the sky began to turn the pale white of dawn. The first faint rays of light filtered through the window, illuminating the dust motes floating in the room. Aside from dry, sore eyes and a body stiff and numb from maintaining one position for so long, Mu Xi had survived the night.
At least, it was far better than she had anticipated. As expected, this level of punishment was nothing to her.
Ye Lan set down the documents and stood up.
“Downstairs,” she commanded, her voice carrying the slight hoarseness unique to early morning.
Mu Xi followed her in silence, her steps somewhat unsteady. The metal staircase echoed with a monotonous sound.
In the first-floor Dining Hall, breakfast was already prepared. Delicate white porcelain tableware, steaming hot food, emitting an enticing aroma. It was utterly incongruous with the ruined, desolate world of the apocalypse outside.
The two sat facing each other, still in silence.
Ye Lan’s dining movements were elegant and composed. Mu Xi had little appetite, merely mechanically putting food into her mouth, tasting nothing.
After finishing breakfast, Ye Lan wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin and looked at Mu Xi.
“To the living room.”
Mu Xi stood up as instructed and walked to the center of the living room.
“Sit,” Ye Lan pointed to a sturdy metal chair.
Mu Xi sat down. The chair was cold and hard, digging painfully into her.
“From now on, you will sit here,” Ye Lan walked in front of her, her voice icy. “No moving, no sleeping. There is surveillance overhead, full coverage, no blind spots.”
She raised her hand to point at an inconspicuous black dome on the ceiling.
“If you fall asleep, or make any small movements, you will bear the consequences.”
Mu Xi looked up at the surveillance camera with its faintly blinking red light.
Like a cold eye, silently watching her.
So, sleep deprivation was only the first step.
The real torture was this constant surveillance and absolute stillness. Her heart sank again, but her face remained expressionless. She had experienced worse than this. As long as she was alive, as long as she hadn’t given up on thoughts of revenge, she could endure.
Ye Lan seemed quite satisfied with her “obedience.” She turned and instructed, “Bring yesterday’s report.”
An Imperial Guard member in a purple uniform appeared silently and handed over a document.
Ye Lan took it, walked to a nearby sofa to sit down, and began handling affairs.
The living room was left with only the rustling sound of turning pages and Mu Xi’s almost imperceptible breathing.
Mu Xi straightened her back, sitting on the cold metal chair, her gaze empty as she stared ahead.
She was like an exquisite yet lifeless silver-haired doll, manipulated by invisible strings, fixed in this humiliating position.
But only she knew what kind of storm was brewing deep within those dead, silent eyes.
Ye Lan occasionally looked up from the documents to glance at Mu Xi.
The girl’s figure was thin and fragile, as if she could be scattered at any moment by the apocalyptic gale.
But her back was ramrod straight, carrying a silent defiance even under surveillance.
Ye Lan’s fingertips lightly tapped the sofa armrest, a complex emotion flashing through her phoenix eyes.
Guilt? Perhaps a little. A sliver of secret anticipation. But more than anything, it was a nearly obsessive desire for control.
She wanted to see how far this seemingly tamed little thing could endure.
She wanted to know if, beyond hatred and fear, any other light could be rekindled in those beautiful eyes.
She set down the document, stood up, and walked to stand before Mu Xi.
“Thirsty?” Ye Lan’s voice betrayed no emotion.
Mu Xi did not answer, did not even move a muscle.
Ye Lan didn’t mind. She turned and ordered the guard, “Water.”
Soon, a glass of clear water was brought over. Ye Lan took it and held it to Mu Xi’s lips.
Mu Xi still showed no reaction, her lips tightly sealed.
Ye Lan didn’t force it. She placed the water glass on the table beside them.
“Take it yourself if you want to drink.”
With that, she turned and left the living room, seemingly to attend to other matters. The sound of her footsteps vanished beyond the doorway.
Silence once again reclaimed the living room.
Leaving only Mu Xi, and that glass of water that was so close, yet felt as distant as the horizon.
And that cold, all-seeing eye overhead.
Time, like the stagnant air in the Silent Language Building, flowed slowly and heavily.
No sleeping is one thing, but having to maintain a fixed sitting posture…
For Mu Xi, the difficulty had indeed increased by more than one level.
For the first few hours, relying on the tenacity of being pushed to the brink, she could still manage to hold on.
The stiffness in her body spread like a tide, inch by inch, through her limbs and bones, but it was still bearable.
Her consciousness was still relatively clear, enough for her to repeatedly sketch Ye Lan’s detestable face in her mind, using hatred to sharpen her nerves that were on the verge of growing dull.
But time was fair, and also the cruelest instrument of torture.
As the sky outside the window shifted from the faint light of dawn, gradually dyed with the blazing white of noon, and then slowly transitioned to the lazy golden hue of afternoon, the omnipresent sense of surveillance and the pressure from absolute stillness began to reveal their true power.
No sound, no images, nothing to divert her attention.
The living room was terrifyingly quiet, with only her own gradually heavier breathing and the faint roar of blood rushing through her veins pounding in her ears.
The surveillance camera hanging from the ceiling, like an extension of Ye Lan’s cold will, silently, comprehensively enveloped her, capturing her most minute tremors.
Mu Xi vaguely remembered a distant past life.
Back then, she was still a carefree youth, having stayed up all night with her so-called friends in smoke-filled internet cafes, battling it out.
The screen flickered with changing lights and shadows, keyboards and mice clicked and clacked, her ears filled with teammates’ shouts and game background music, her mouth stuffed with chips and cola.
Staying awake for three or four days straight, yet her spirit was abnormally excited, propped up entirely by a young body and the constant external stimulation.
It wasn’t until she walked out of the internet cafe, legs weak, vision blurry, almost falling to the ground, that she belatedly realized her body had long been overdrawn.
The exhaustion back then was the collapse after indulgence, carrying a sense of thorough, satisfying release.
Now, it was completely different.