A sliver of pale morning light squeezed through the gap in the curtains, dispelling the thick darkness of the night but not the intangible pressure permeating the air. Mu Xi opened her eyes, her pupils reflecting the monotonous white of the ceiling.
The fine wounds no longer stabbed with sharp pain, only a slight itch remained. The physical exhaustion seemed to have subsided somewhat, but the dull ache from a sleepless night lingered.
Yet another, deeper sense of wrongness rising from within her body grew more distinct as her consciousness sharpened. The fullness and sourness entrenched in her chest and abdomen had not diminished; instead, they surged more violently, like tides that had slumbered all night, stirring restlessly with the arrival of morning.
She sat up, her movements slow and stiff. The gray cotton clothes she wore were wrinkled, stained with the cold sweat of the previous night.
She lowered her head, her gaze inadvertently sweeping across her chest. Her breath caught sharply.
Through the not-too-thick fabric, the slight curve was more noticeable than yesterday. No longer the flatness of the past, but an unfamiliar fullness that felt heavy.
Mu Xi’s heart felt as if tightly clutched by an invisible hand, suffocation instantly enveloping her.
She raised her hand in disbelief, her fingertips trembling as she touched it through the fabric. A soft, warm, strangely elastic sensation came through—not an illusion.
‘The drug’s erosion… it’s a brand, an imposed distortion.’ A powerful surge of humiliation and anger rose within her. ‘This is not merely for so-called “cooperation”; it’s a deeper perversion.’ The panic about identity from last night surged back, accompanied by a clearer fear. ‘The drug is altering my body at an unimaginable speed.’
She bit her lower lip hard until she tasted blood, barely suppressing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her reason.
‘I am a man!’
This thought echoed repeatedly in her mind, like a mantra against the physical mutation.
Forcing herself to move, she got out of bed and walked into the crude washroom. Cold water splashed on her face brought brief clarity.
The face reflected in the mirror was still delicate, but her complexion was terrifyingly pale, the depths of her pupils churning with suppressed flames.
She averted her gaze, not daring to look more, and quickly finished washing.
When she changed into the spare clean clothes, the foreign sensation on her chest became impossible to ignore. The fabric clung to the new curves, bringing an extremely uncomfortable feeling of being wrapped.
Her movements involuntarily quickened, tinged with awkwardness, as if she wanted to end this humiliating self-examination as soon as possible.
Just then, the sound of a metal door opening came. No knock, as always—domineering.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened, and she spun around.
Ye Lan leaned against the doorframe, her jet-black hair casually loose, a few strands falling onto her pale neck. Bandages were still wrapped around her, but her arrogant, unbridled aura remained undiminished.
She looked Mu Xi up and down, her deep phoenix eyes carrying undisguised scrutiny. That scrutiny finally settled on Mu Xi’s chest.
“Looks like the effect is good.” Ye Lan’s voice carried a lazy hint of amusement, impossible to tell if it was satisfaction or mockery.
Mu Xi’s heart sank. She clenched her hands at her sides, using pain to maintain a calm facade. She said nothing, just stared coldly at Ye Lan.
Ye Lan walked in slowly, her tall figure bringing an invisible pressure. She stopped in front of Mu Xi, close enough to smell the faint scent of medicine mixed with blood on her.
“How’s your recovery?” Ye Lan asked, her tone casual, as if making ordinary small talk.
“Can’t die.” Mu Xi’s voice was cold and dry.
Ye Lan chuckled softly, seemingly unconcerned with her attitude. “That’s good.” She paused, her tone shifting subtly. “Since you’re feeling better, there are some things we need to confirm.”
Mu Xi’s vigilance shot to maximum. She looked at Ye Lan, unclear what she meant by “confirm.”
Ye Lan didn’t give her much time to think. She reached out, her movement so fast that Mu Xi couldn’t react. Her fingertips, through the fabric, lightly touched the unfamiliar fullness on Mu Xi’s chest.
Mu Xi shuddered, as if licked by a viper’s tongue. A chill mixed with indescribable shame surged from her soles to her crown. She stepped back abruptly, trying to avoid Ye Lan’s touch, but Ye Lan grabbed her wrist faster.
Ye Lan’s strength was great; Mu Xi couldn’t break free.
“Don’t be nervous, Little Xi.” Ye Lan’s voice dropped low, carrying a strange allure. “Just checking the drug’s effect, seeing how ready you are.”
Her other hand, with irresistible force, reached for Mu Xi’s collar.
Mu Xi’s pupils contracted sharply. ‘I want to resist!’ But reason firmly suppressed her impulse.
She didn’t struggle, allowing Ye Lan’s fingers to undo the buttons of her shirt, allowing the calloused fingertips to test the changes in her body with a near-inspecting attitude. The process was brief, yet it felt like an eternity.
Mu Xi kept her eyes tightly shut, her jaw clenched, her body trembling faintly from extreme suppression. She could feel Ye Lan’s movements, feel the touch that made her want to vomit. She gasped heavily, her chest heaving dramatically, all color drained from her face. When Ye Lan finally withdrew her hand, Mu Xi was nearly collapsing.
Ye Lan’s fingertips were stained with a milky-white liquid. She brought her fingers to her lips and lightly licked them.
“Mmm…” She squinted slightly, as if savoring it. “Not bad. Better than I expected.”
Her expression and tone were like she was evaluating a meticulously crafted weapon or a tasty snack.
Mu Xi’s stomach churned violently.
Ye Lan looked at her pale, furious face and suddenly smiled.
“It seems Little Xi hasn’t tasted it herself yet?”
Mu Xi jerked her head up, staring at Ye Lan in disbelief. ‘What does she want to do?’
Ye Lan gave her no chance to refuse. She approached again, one hand pinching Mu Xi’s jaw, forcing her mouth open. Her other hand reached for Mu Xi’s chest again, fingertips quickly stained with the milky-white liquid.
“Have a taste.” Ye Lan’s voice carried a commanding tone as she slowly brought the stained finger toward Mu Xi’s lips. “Knowing your own ‘weapon’ will be good for our plan.”
Humiliation flooded Mu Xi like a tidal wave. She wanted to turn her head away, to clench her teeth, but Ye Lan’s strength made her immobile. The fingertip, carrying Ye Lan’s body heat and another unfamiliar scent, touched her lips.
Mu Xi was completely rigid.
“Drink it.” Ye Lan ordered.
In the end, Mu Xi yielded. She parted her lips slightly and let the liquid—bearing her own body’s scent yet utterly foreign—slide into her mouth. A faint, slightly sweet warmth spread across her tongue. It wasn’t disgusting as she had imagined; instead, it was quite pure and mellow. This realization terrified Mu Xi even more. ‘My body, my instincts, are all twisting toward a direction I can’t understand or accept.’
Ye Lan released her hand with satisfaction, watching Mu Xi’s eyes widen from shock and humiliation.
“How does it feel? Addictive, isn’t it?” Ye Lan asked, a hint of playfulness in her tone.
Mu Xi didn’t answer. She only wiped her lips vigorously, as if trying to erase the nauseating taste and sensation.
“Nan Qiao will like it.” Ye Lan spoke as if stating a foregone conclusion. “With this, her defenses against you will drop to the lowest point.”
She walked to the window and looked at the gray sky outside. The harsh silhouette of Stone City emerged in the morning light.
“Get ready, Little Xi.” Ye Lan turned around, her phoenix eyes gleaming with calculation. “Our ‘great show’ is about to begin.”