She stared fixedly at Ye Lan. Mu Xi did not answer, only used those bloodshot eyes, as if gazing at the molten magma surging and burning beneath an abyss.
There was no fear inside them, only a dead silent wasteland—and desolation.
Ye Lan’s fingertips lightly grazed Mu Xi’s smooth, icy chin.
A flicker of complex emotion passed through her phoenix eyes. “Only hatred can make you survive.”
She released her hand and straightened up. “Hate… that’s right.” Ye Lan let out a low laugh, then turned and walked toward the dining hall. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
“Stay seated.” Ye Lan tossed back the words.
The sound of footsteps faded away.
Mu Xi held the forced-up position for a long moment before slowly lowering her head.
On her chin, it was as if the cold touch of Ye Lan’s fingertips still lingered.
Hate?
Of course she hated.
Hate that had seeped into her very bones.
But this hatred wasn’t just for survival.
It was so that one day, she could drag this woman into hell herself!
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the surging emotions and her body that was on the verge of collapse.
No. She couldn’t fall yet.
Ye Lan hadn’t gone far.
She had to hold on.
She had to.
Mu Xi opened her eyes again and refixed her gaze on the void ahead.
Her body was shaking, her consciousness floating, but her will was like a reef deep in the ocean, stubbornly resisting the storm.
Ye Lan soon returned, holding a cup of steaming milk in her hand. She walked over to Mu Xi and brought the cup to her lips.
“Drink it.” Ye Lan ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The warm scent of milk wafted, strand by strand, into her nostrils, tempting her parched body.
Mu Xi’s lips twitched, but in the end she pressed them tightly shut.
Ye Lan’s patience seemed to have run out.
She pinched Mu Xi’s chin, using a little force to force her mouth open.
The warm liquid, rich with the aroma of milk, was forcibly poured into her mouth.
Mu Xi struggled violently, but her body was already stiff and numb, completely lacking strength.
The milk spilled from the corner of her mouth, flowing down her pale cheeks and dripping onto her light-colored collar, leaving wet traces.
Ye Lan ignored it, not stopping until she had emptied the entire cup of milk.
She let go.
Mu Xi choked and coughed, coughing as if her heart would break, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.
“Cough… cough…”
She gasped pitifully, her body trembling slightly from the violent coughing.
Ye Lan stood to the side, watching her coldly.
“It seems some coercive measures are still necessary.” Ye Lan casually wiped the corner of Mu Xi’s mouth with a tissue. “Remember this feeling, Little Xi.”
Her voice was light, but carried a chilling cruelty. “Next time, if you don’t obey, whatever goes down your throat won’t be so innocent.”
The damp, cold cloth clung to her chest, mixed with the cloying sweetness of the forcibly fed milk—a blend of humiliation and an unshakable chill.
Mu Xi hung her head low, silver strands slipping down to cover her pale cheeks, hiding those eyes that had surged up like molten lava of hatred.
How absurd.
She laughed silently in her heart.
Just moments ago, this woman could put on a semblance of tenderness, as if she truly intended to give her freedom and affection. In the blink of an eye, the hypocritical mask was brutally ripped away, revealing the familiar, bone-deep, cruel and domineering Ye Lan.
She didn’t even bother to pretend.
Indeed, power was her only faith.
“Heh.” Ye Lan’s deep laugh echoed in the empty living room, carrying a chilling penetrative force. “You’re cursing me in your heart, aren’t you?”
Mu Xi didn’t respond, not even suppressing the faint trembling that came against her will.
She just maintained that bowed posture, like a lifeless, delicate puppet.
Ye Lan stepped up in front of her, looking down at her.
“You guessed right, Little Xi.” Her voice held no hint of guilt, only an arrogant sense of entitlement. “I’m exactly that kind of person. When I had no power, I could only lie low. But once I hold the reins of authority in my hand, naturally, I need the capital to be overbearing.”
She reached out her finger again, lifting Mu Xi’s chin and forcing her face up.
The cold pad of her finger touched warm skin, sending a shiver.
“Those who once didn’t need me, those so-called allies—in the end, they will all bow to me.”
“Stone City will soon be my trophy. Nan Qiao—”
Ye Lan’s phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, flashing with the light of ambition and domination. She paused, the force of her fingertip increasing, forcing Mu Xi to look straight into the depths of her gaze. “By then, in the whole wasteland, who will dare to defy me?”
“As for you,” Ye Lan’s voice lowered, carrying a hypnotic, almost whispering allure, “I will hold you tightly in the palm of my hand. And giving you freedom? Of course.”
She curled the corners of her lips, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes—only cold calculation.
“On one condition: you fall in love with me. Love me the way I love you—so deeply you can’t extricate yourself, so much that… you’re willing to give everything for me.”
Absurd!
Mu Xi almost couldn’t hold back a cold sneer, but the air churning in her throat broke through first, turning into a violent cough.
“Cough… cough…”
The tearing pain made everything go black before her eyes. The weakness of her body was fully exposed in that moment. She coughed so hard she bent over, her lungs throbbing with pain.
Ye Lan let go and watched her pathetic state without any hint of emotion.
When Mu Xi’s coughing finally subsided, leaving only intermittent gasps, Ye Lan spoke again, her tone as flat as if discussing the weather.
“Do you want to sleep?”
Mu Xi jerked her head up, the bloodshot in her eyes even more pronounced from the coughing.
She almost immediately shook her head, her voice hoarse but stubborn: “No.”
Her body was on the verge of collapse, her consciousness like a candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.
But she could not show weakness, especially in front of this woman.
Ye Lan folded her arms and looked at her leisurely.
“Little Xi, this stubborn mouth of yours, when will you ever fix it?” Her voice carried a faint sigh that was hard to detect, but more than that, a ruthless scrutiny. “If you could be a little smarter, maybe you wouldn’t have to suffer so much.”
Suffer? Wasn’t all her suffering caused by this very woman?
Mu Xi clenched her teeth so hard she almost bit through her lower lip.
Hatred wrapped around her heart like iron chains, choking off her breath.
But she repeated it again, though her voice was much weaker now, trembling beyond concealment: “I said… no.”
Ye Lan’s patience seemed to have worn out once more.
She stepped forward, and an overwhelming pressure instantly descended.
“I’ll give you one last chance.”
Ye Lan’s voice turned cold, carrying an unyielding authority. “Look me in the eye and answer me. Do you, or do you not, want to sleep?”
Those deep phoenix eyes, like the darkest, coldest pool, seemed able to suck in a person’s soul.
Mu Xi’s heart began to race uncontrollably—not from fear, but from the panic of being seen through.
She could feel her weak body shaking uncontrollably, the scene before her beginning to blur and spin.
Her forcibly maintained willpower, under absolute exhaustion and the other’s pressure, was crumbling bit by bit.
Time seemed to freeze.
Only Mu Xi’s heavy, suppressed breathing remained in the air.
Silence spread between them, stretching into a suffocating tension.