She slowly raised her head, her gaze struggling to penetrate the darkness, staring at the narrow, high window welded with thick iron bars.
No light seeped through from outside, only a heavy, dead silence.
This was Stone City, Nan Qiao’s territory, a steel fortress standing at the end of the desert.
And she, the Princess of Wucheng, was imprisoned deep within this fortress, in a storage room that never saw sunlight, like a tool waiting to be used, or a pet waiting to be tamed.
The metal around her wrists and ankles was cold and heavy, deeply embedded into her flesh.
Every slight movement brought a stinging friction.
Short iron chains connected her to metal rings fixed in the wall.
The distance had been precisely calculated, making it impossible for her to lie down comfortably.
She could only maintain a humiliating half-sitting, half-leaning posture, her hands forced upward, as if begging silently, or as if enduring some form of torture.
‘Ye Lan…’
That name, like a poisonous thorn, pierced deep into Mu Xi’s heart.
She had killed her parents, destroyed her future, and now, using Li Xin and Little An’s lives as leverage, had imprisoned her here, subjecting her to nauseating conditioning.
Hatred roiled and boiled in her chest like surging magma, nearly consuming her entirely.
She hated Ye Lan’s cold ruthlessness, hated her domineering obsession, hated how she spoke the cruelest words in the gentlest tone, hated how she did the most hurtful things in the most lingering manner.
But… was it merely hatred?
Mu Xi closed her eyes, but her mind uncontrollably flashed fragmented images.
Mutual support during their escape, Ye Lan’s back as she shielded her in moments of crisis, the occasionally revealed, barely noticeable fatigue and… guilt?
Mu Xi violently shook her head, trying to cast away these absurd thoughts.
No!
This woman would do anything to achieve her goals.
How could someone who personally destroyed everything of another feel guilt?
That had to be an illusion!
A facade Ye Lan had fabricated!
Those memories gnawed at her nerves day and night like maggots burrowing into bone.
Moreover, although Luoyuan’s chip had failed and she had completely awakened, those days of losing herself, of being like a puppet on strings, those things she did against her own will under Ye Lan’s commands, had all turned into deeper hatred and shame.
She could no longer be deceived.
She could no longer waver.
Despair, like a cold noose, quietly crept into her heart, trying to entangle and strangle her.
Was she to be imprisoned like this, enduring torture day after day, until her spirit completely collapsed, or until she became, as Ye Lan wished, a completely submissive, soulless shell?
‘No.’
A faint but clear voice sounded in the depths of her heart.
‘This cannot continue.’
Mu Xi’s breathing gradually steadied, and her chaotic thoughts began to settle.
She remembered the words Ye Lan said before leaving: “Remember, only by being strong can you survive.”
Survive…
Yes, she had to survive.
For Li Xin.
For Little An.
They were her last ties to this world, the sole reason she could not fall.
Ye Lan threatened her with them precisely because she knew how important they were to her.
So, what exactly was Ye Lan’s goal?
Simply to torture her for amusement?
Unlikely.
What she was plotting was far more than that.
She had gone to great lengths to bring her here to Stone City, to form an alliance with Nan Qiao.
Ye Lan was a person with clear goals and a strong desire for control.
Taking back Wucheng?
More than that.
It sounded like a huge bait, but it might also be part of Ye Lan’s real plan.
Ye Lan wouldn’t really kill her, nor would she cripple her.
Ye Lan had said she would use Nan Qiao’s power to help her.
She needed her identity as the “Princess of Wucheng.”
At least until she achieved her ultimate goal, she had value.
There was room for negotiation.
Since she wouldn’t die, since she still had value, then everything still had room for maneuver.
This realization was like a faint ray of light, piercing through the dense darkness.
Anger and hatred still existed, but they were no longer the raging tides dominating her emotions.
They were forcefully suppressed, settling into the deepest fuel at the bottom of her heart.
The despair receded like an ebbing tide, replaced by a cold, resilient fighting spirit she had never felt before.
She had to stay calm.
She must stay calm.
Ye Lan wanted to make her submit through “conditioning,” even develop a Stockholm syndrome-like dependency?
Then she would do exactly the opposite.
She would disguise herself, numb Ye Lan with obedience, and accumulate strength through endurance.
She began to force herself to analyze her current situation, to analyze Ye Lan’s personality and weaknesses.
Ye Lan was arrogant, domineering, but not without flaws.
Her almost crazy possessiveness towards her might be the biggest vulnerability.
Mu Xi began to engage in self-psychological construction, telling herself over and over again: “Endure. This is only temporary. My body may be forced to respond, but my soul belongs to me.”
“Ye Lan’s touch is cold, her words are false. Observe her, understand her, find her weakness. Li Xin and Little An need me, Wucheng needs me. I am not a plaything. I am Mu Xi.”
It was like a form of self-hypnosis, engraving these thoughts deep into her mind, building a solid psychological defense.
The physical pain and the oppressive environment remained, but her heart gradually became calm, even cold and hard.
She no longer dwelled on those humiliating details, no longer indulged in useless anger.
She focused all her mental energy on resisting the invisible shackles Ye Lan had placed on her.
Time passed slowly in the darkness and silence.
There was no clock in the storage room.
Mu Xi could only roughly judge the passage of time by her body’s fatigue and the emptiness in her stomach.
Her hands and feet had become numb and aching from maintaining the same position for so long.
The cold metal seemed to be freezing together with her flesh.
She tried moving her fingers and toes slightly.
The subtle movements caused the chains to make a faint clattering sound, especially clear in the silent space.
She needed to keep a clear mind and basic physical strength.
After an unknown amount of time, light footsteps came from outside the metal door.
Then, a small observation window on the door was opened, and a beam of flashlight shone in, sweeping across her face.
Mu Xi didn’t move, didn’t even lift her eyelids.
She just maintained her previous posture, breathing steadily, as if asleep or completely numb.
The beam paused for a few seconds, as if confirming her state, then went out.
The observation window was closed again, and the footsteps faded away.
It was Ye Lan’s escort team.
They took turns guarding, ensuring that this “important prisoner” was perfectly secure.
Mu Xi slowly opened her eyes in the darkness.
Her gaze was clear, without a trace of fear or panic.
This battle had only just begun.
Ye Lan had her methods, and she, too, had her persistence.
She slightly adjusted her sitting position, shifting the center of gravity a little, trying to relieve the stiffness in her muscles.
The cold metal rubbed against her skin, bringing a slight pain, but this pain made her feel more alert.
She focused her attention on her wrists, feeling the weight, the material, and the structure of the locks.
Although she knew she couldn’t break free by her own strength, this kind of observation and analysis itself was a silent resistance, a way to maintain her self-awareness.
She had to survive, like a seed stubbornly growing in a desperate situation.
Even if buried in the deepest darkness, she would gather strength, waiting for the day she broke through the soil.