Mu Xi did not act immediately.
She remained highly vigilant, her gaze sweeping between Ye Lan, the Escort Team, and the lone oil barrel.
The wind in the desert seemed colder, blowing her thin clothes loudly, and the wound on her arm sent sharp, fine pains.
Trust?
That was an impossibility.
Especially in front of Ye Lan.
She pressed the muzzle tightly against her temple, her body tensed like a bowstring, then, extremely slowly, used her free hand to push off the ground and inch backward.
Sand grains rubbed against her palm and pants, making a faint rustling sound.
Her movements were slow and laborious; every inch she moved required immense mental effort to maintain balance while ensuring the stability of the gun and monitoring the surroundings.
Ye Lan just stood there, watching quietly.
Watching Mu Xi, like a wounded little wretch, dragging her broken body to struggle for survival in a desperate situation.
Her eyes were dark and unreadable; no one could guess what she was thinking at that moment.
Perhaps she was appreciating this wretchedness, or perhaps she was evaluating the energy contained within this determination.
‘This little thing really is different.No longer the doll that would let her be manipulated and only cry and beg for mercy.’
The hatred in those eyes was as real as a poison-tempered blade, even making her feel a chill.
‘Interesting. It really was getting more and more interesting.’
Had to rely on her, eventually… unable to leave her.
Using her free hand, she struggled to grab the cold metal handle of the oil barrel, managing to drag it slightly.
In the silent desert night, the sound was especially jarring.
Deep in Ye Lan’s heart, a twisted desire for conquest and an even darker possessiveness were quietly sprouting.
She wanted to see Mu Xi like this—hating her, fearing her, yet forced to rely on her, eventually… unable to leave her.
The metal barrel bottom scraped against the sand, making a harsh grating sound that traveled far in the dead desert.
Sweat dripped from her temple, mixing with dust, leaving messy trails across her pale face.
She didn’t relax at all, still keeping the gun pressed against her head.
The oil barrel was much heavier than she had imagined.
Mu Xi finally inched close to the oil barrel.
She clenched her teeth, veins bulging in her arm, and with all her strength, little by little, she dragged the heavy barrel toward her battered wasteland vehicle.
Every inch was excruciatingly difficult.
The sand was soft, and the metal edge of the barrel sank deep into it.
Mu Xi’s jaw was locked tight, sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped onto the dry sand, darkening a small patch instantly.
The wound on her arm split open again from the strain, warm liquid seeping out, sticking to her sleeve and skin with a sticky feeling, bringing sharp stabs of pain.
She didn’t dare divert her attention to check the wound.
All her focus was on two things: keeping the muzzle steady against her temple, and dragging this barrel, which was almost beyond her strength, to the vehicle.
Every step felt like walking on lava.
The sand scraped against the metal bottom, producing a teeth-grating screech that echoed far in the dead desert, as if silently mocking her plight and struggle.
The night wind swept her silver hair across her sweaty cheeks, bringing a cool touch, but it couldn’t relieve her inner anxiety or physical exhaustion.
She could feel Ye Lan’s gaze, like a physical weight on her back, cold and focused.
There was no pity in that gaze—only the calm of a predator inspecting its prey, and a faint, almost morbid interest.
Mu Xi forced herself not to think about that gaze, not to think about Ye Lan’s possible weapons.
Her chest heaved violently from lack of oxygen.
Finally, the rough, cold metal body of the wasteland vehicle was within reach.
She almost collapsed against the door, panting heavily.
The arm holding the gun shook even more, almost unable to grip the cold metal.
But she clenched her teeth, using her last strength to steady the muzzle.
After a brief respite, she tried to open the fuel cap.
This was another challenge.
Single-handed operation was already difficult, especially in this state of high tension and near exhaustion.
The fuel cap was stuck due to sand and wind erosion.
She tried nine times without success.
Her fingertips felt the cold metal mixed with rough sand.
“Need help, Little Xi?” Ye Lan’s voice came without warning, carrying a trace of lazy laughter, breaking the tense balance of the area.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened, her movements pausing.
Without turning her head, she spat out two cold words: “Shut up.”
Ye Lan chuckled softly and said no more but her very presence was an invisible pressure hanging over Mu Xi.
Mu Xi took a deep breath and tried again.
This time, she used almost all her strength.
Her knuckles turned white from the strain, veins standing out on the back of her hand.
With a soft click, the fuel cap finally came off.
She didn’t dare relax for a second.
She immediately tilted the oil barrel toward the tank.
The pungent smell of gasoline filled the air.
The heavy barrel wobbled in her hand as she carefully controlled the flow.
The cold liquid “glug-glugged” into the tank, making a dull sound.
The process was slow and agonizing.
Every second, she felt exposed to extreme danger.
Ye Lan and her Escort Team were not far away, ready to pounce at any moment.
She could only pray—pray that Ye Lan didn’t want to break the truce just yet, that this barrel of fuel would take her to the next place she could catch her breath.
The barrel grew lighter.
When the last drop of fuel fell into the tank, Mu Xi immediately dropped the empty barrel to the ground with a loud “clang”.
She quickly screwed the fuel cap back on, then used the hand holding the gun to support herself on the door while her other hand fumbled for the door handle.
Just as her fingertips were about to touch the handle—
“Leaving just like that?”
Ye Lan’s voice rang out again, like an invisible thread snagging Mu Xi’s about-to-step foot.
The tone was unreadable—flat like the eternal stars above the desert—yet it carried a suffocating pressure.
Mu Xi’s movements halted.
Her fingertips froze on the cold handle, only a line away from pulling it.
She didn’t look back, not even giving Ye Lan a sidelong glance.
Leave?
Of course she wanted to leave—right now, immediately!
Escape this suffocating place, escape this woman who haunted her like a nightmare.
But could she leave?
Would Ye Lan let her go so easily?
The air around seemed to thicken.
Even the wind seemed to die down, leaving only her own heavy, suppressed breathing and the frantic pounding of her heart—thump thump—so loud it hurt her eardrums.
She could feel Ye Lan’s gaze still locked onto her.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Mu Xi’s fingers clenched the handle, the cold metal biting into her bones.
She knew Ye Lan was waiting for her answer, or rather, waiting for her to slip.
But she couldn’t answer, couldn’t make any unnecessary moves.
Now, it was a test of patience and willpower.
Whoever wavered first would lose.
She slowly inhaled, then slowly exhaled, trying to calm her racing heart and trembling arm.