“Good morning, Sister Lin!”
The girl in the tracksuit, who had just been complaining about her aching feet, now greeted the woman behind the counter with boundless energy.
Hearing her melodious voice, Sister Lin, who usually wore an indifferent expression, rare as it was, allowed a smile to grace her face.
“It’s you, Lemon. Long time no see.”
Her footsteps on the wooden floor produced a clear, rhythmic tapping sound, but it was far from being noisy.
Each step seemed to land precisely on a musical note, creating a lively tempo that subtly blended into the surroundings.
In contrast, Motes still had her brows furrowed, seemingly preoccupied with her sore feet.
She seemed to be the type who wasn’t used to expressing herself, so much so that she didn’t utter a word even after walking tens of thousands of steps in boots, while Lemon, in her sneakers, remained silent as well.
However, the discomfort eventually manifested clearly on her face.
The two of them, upon reaching the staircase, soon attracted attention from below.
The café was usually devoid of customers, so these unexpected visitors were immediately noticed.
Miti’s previously carefree, upturned lips froze for a moment, then she coughed lightly and put on her thick, black-rimmed glasses.
“Senior Motes, and Lemon, you’ve arrived just in time.”
“Uh, so this is the so-called new person… Irina, right?”
Motes nodded slightly towards Miti, then pointed at Su Mu with her finger, her dim pink eyes devoid of any emotion.
“That’s correct.”
Miti adjusted her glasses, subtly nudging Su Mu with her elbow in the process.
Su Mu finally saw all the heroines from her stories gathered together, and she felt a strange sensation in her heart.
She mustered her energy to introduce herself, but the moment her gaze met Motes’, a chill ran down her spine.
An ominous premonition inexplicably arose.
She felt as if the reflection in Motes’ pupils was not just a simple image, but a vision of her own demise.
“You, come over here.”
Motes’ voice was flat as she spoke, pointing towards the dining table.
A sudden flush of red appeared on her almost morbidly pale cheeks, as if to barely convey her inner excitement.
What does this mean?
The uneasy feeling in Su Mu’s heart grew stronger.
Her rational mind told her that if she really went over, something bad would happen, but her instinct made her choose to obediently get up and walk forward with trembling legs.
If she didn’t comply, whatever happened would be even more terrifying.
The magical girl Motes rarely appeared in people’s sight, and even when she did, she was mostly silent and expressionless.
The scenes of her defeating monsters often lasted for less than a second, with a flash of crimson light, and the previously ferocious monster would instantly solidify, then shatter into countless neat pieces with the burst of blood.
Her almost perfect appearance gave people endless room for imagination.
Distance can create beauty, and Motes was the magical girl who was the farthest away from people.
Like a pure white lily of the valley that could only be gazed at from across a long river, she was pure, melancholic, and yet, one couldn’t help but anticipate the moment when she would turn into a breathtakingly beautiful blood-red.
Su Mu had not only imagined such scenes but also put them into writing, successfully garnering a flood of praise.
The theme was very simple.
The magical girl Motes, who forbade desire, and her unknown side in private!
Just the title was enough to make people’s minds wander.
People loved the contrast, such as monks breaking their vows, children driving cars…
“I remember you wrote that you liked my unique side, didn’t you?”
It seemed she harbored deep resentment towards what Su Mu had written back then.
Motes now was indeed acting completely different, speaking more in one go than she might have in a whole day before, but Su Mu only felt fear.
“I’m sorry, I was wrong…”
Before the situation could spiral further into a dire abyss, Su Mu showed a side that contrasted with her online persona—like a little devil who had been locked in a room day and night, until her legs ached and her body felt weak, finally succumbing.
“I know you were wrong, but when you’re wrong, you have to accept punishment.”
Upon hearing this, the flush on Motes’ cheeks gradually spread, and her speech became more fluent.
She still stubbornly pointed to the dining table, signaling Su Mu to come forward.
Irina, I’m done for, save me!
Su Mu nervously closed her eyes, slowly moving forward, inching closer to the dining table that felt like a chopping block.
Under Motes’ guidance, she lay on it and raised her tender behind.
To her surprise, Su Mu received a reassuring response.
“Let me handle it, you step down.”
At this moment, to take over, Irina, you…
Wait, what are you even here for?
“Don’t worry, I’m here to protect you.”
Protect?!
You better not—
“An apology should be sincere, Little Su Mu, watch closely how I do it.”
However, Irina didn’t change her expression; she just lay there obediently, even pressing herself tighter against the table, squishing her chest and raising her behind even higher, assuming an extremely embarrassing posture.
“This is how an apology should look, not shrinking back, worrying about being punished, that’s just evasion. This is how it’s done, umph—”
Bang!
With a sharp whistling sound through the air, some long, thin object struck Irina’s behind heavily, producing a crisp sound that made her gasp in pain, her pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
“Hissss, ah…”
Just one strike, and Irina’s thoughts were interrupted, making her want to roll around on the ground.
So painful! It was like being scraped by thorns, leaving a burning sensation on the spot.
If one were to lift her pants at this moment, a clear, swelling red mark would be visible on her behind.
She couldn’t help but reach back with her hand to protect her behind, but Motes seemed quite displeased with this.
She forcefully grabbed her hand and pinned it to the side, securing it with something unknown.
“Be good and don’t move. The sooner the punishment is over, the better. Otherwise, if Little Nai sees this, we’ll have to add the count to next time.”
Irina clenched her teeth and asked with difficulty:
“So, how many times exactly?”
The blood-red ruler in Motes’ hand paused for a moment, as if she was contemplating the question.
“One strike for each word. I’ve counted, excluding punctuation, there are a total of two thousand eight hundred and seventy-three words. Uh, it seems I still can’t finish them all today, so let’s just go until twelve o’clock and continue the rest at midnight tomorrow.”
Did she really count them?
Over two thousand strikes?
Even a magical girl couldn’t endure that; her behind would be ruined!
Just then, Tang Nai’s voice rang out like a heavenly melody, stopping Motes.
“Don’t hold a grudge so much, little Motes. Two thousand strikes are still too exaggerated, after all, no one would believe what she made up…”
Motes looked at Tang Nai with a grievance, but remained silent.
Only then did Tang Nai skillfully change the subject.
“In any case, considering her good behavior lately, let’s go easy on her and make it one strike per sentence.”
One strike per sentence still didn’t make sense!
Motes’ dark eyebrows furrowed slightly as she pondered for a moment, then nodded.
“So it should be 191 sentences, which can be finished before dinner today.”
Hearing this still absurd number, Irina buried her head in her chest, with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.
I should have never listened to Miti’s nonsense and written that thing in the first place.
At this moment, Tang Nai entered Irina’s line of sight with something in hand.
Her pupils briefly brightened, then trembled slightly.
In front of her was a dark purple dress that matched perfectly with her one-of-a-kind witch’s hat.
A sly glint flickered in Tang Nai’s eyes, and there seemed to be a hint of… anticipation?
“Wait a moment, how about we put on the dress and then continue?”