Ye Lan’s fingers occasionally pinched Mu Xi’s earlobe, then slid across her nape, and sometimes traced down her back. She deliberately pressed her chest against Mu Xi’s back, her interference all-encompassing.
Each touch sent an electric current through Mu Xi’s body, making it impossible to concentrate.
Her movements grew clumsier, vegetables cut into uneven, crooked pieces.
“Ha.” Ye Lan let out a light laugh, nine parts mockery. “Can’t even handle this little thing?”
A flush of humiliation spread across Mu Xi’s cheeks. She took a deep breath, struggling to calm the anger inside her.
“I… I’m not very good at cooking.”
“It’s fine. You’ll learn slowly.” Ye Lan’s voice was still gentle, but Mu Xi detected a hint of sarcasm within it.
Ye Lan held Mu Xi’s hand and pressed the knife against another vegetable. “Look into my eyes. Focus.”
Mu Xi was forced to meet Ye Lan’s gaze. Those deep phoenix eyes were like a vortex, pulling her in.
She tried to remain calm, but couldn’t stop trembling.
“Good.”
Ye Lan smiled in satisfaction, but the force in her hand suddenly increased. The blade fell swiftly, slicing the vegetable into thin pieces. Mu Xi felt a sting on her wrist—the knife had cut her finger.
Blood gushed out instantly, staining the vegetable.
“Ah!” Mu Xi gasped, quickly pulling back her hand.
Ye Lan’s smile froze, her eyes turning dangerous in an instant.
“How could you be so careless?”
She grabbed Mu Xi’s hand and brought it to her lips, gently sucking on the wound. The warm touch, mixed with the faint taste of blood, sent a chill through Mu Xi.
“It hurts.” Mu Xi’s voice was soft, with a barely noticeable tremor.
“Does it hurt?” Ye Lan lifted her head, her gaze heavy on her.
A flicker of guilt passed through Ye Lan’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by some nameless emotion.
She took gauze and antiseptic from the first-aid kit nearby, carefully bandaging Mu Xi’s wound.
“Be more careful next time.” Ye Lan’s voice softened slightly, carrying a hint of reassurance. Mu Xi said nothing, just silently watched her.
Ye Lan’s gentleness was merely an illusion—another manifestation of her need for control.
By the time dinner was finally ready, Mu Xi was almost exhausted.
The simple ingredients turned into simple stir-fried dishes. They didn’t look good, but at least they were edible.
The two sat down to eat. Mu Xi wanted to stay far from Ye Lan, but Ye Lan pulled her into her arms.
“Sit on my lap.” Ye Lan’s tone was domineering, leaving no room for refusal.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened again, but she obediently sat down. Resistance would only humiliate her further.
Ye Lan wrapped an arm around her waist and fed her bite by bite.
Mu Xi mechanically opened her mouth and swallowed, eating as if chewing wax. She looked at the food before her, filled with disgust.
“Is it good?” Ye Lan asked, a hint of expectation in her voice.
Mu Xi suppressed her nausea and nodded. “It’s good.”
Ye Lan smiled in satisfaction and planted a kiss on her lips.
“Cook for me every day from now on.” Mu Xi’s heart sank to the bottom. Every day?
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Ye Lan raised an eyebrow, her gaze turning dangerous.
Mu Xi quickly shook her head. “No, I like it.”
“I…” Mu Xi opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Ye Lan’s expression softened, and she kissed her lips again. Mu Xi closed her eyes, letting her do as she pleased.
Ye Lan seemed satisfied with Mu Xi’s obedience, her mood greatly improved. She held Mu Xi as she ate, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
“Don’t you like it?” Ye Lan’s voice carried a threat.
Mu Xi suppressed her disgust and responded in kind, silently praying in her heart.
She looked at the Mu Xi in her arms, her eyes filled with adoration. “I’m full.” Ye Lan put down her chopsticks and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Little Xi,” Ye Lan’s voice was low and gentle, “I love you.”
Mu Xi’s heart leaped. She looked up at Ye Lan’s delicate, captivating face, her gaze complex.
Ye Lan laughed even more happily upon hearing this. “I love you too.” She said it softly but firmly.
She pressed a fierce kiss on Mu Xi’s lips, then picked her up and carried her toward the bedroom.
—
The master bedroom on the second floor of Silent Language Building.
The thick alloy window shutters blocked out the evening noise of Stone City outside, leaving only the warm yellow light cast by the indoor lamps.
The air was filled with the refreshing scent of a bath, mingling with Ye Lan’s unique, aggressive chill.
The large bed was soft, the sheets brand-new and smooth to the touch—a strange contrast to the fortress’s hard steel aesthetic.
Ye Lan lay on her side at the edge of the bed, her long black hair spreading like a waterfall over her shoulders and pillow, a few stray strands falling to brush against the object of her intense focus.
Those tiny, delicate feet.
Mu Xi was forced to sit at the head of the bed, her back against the cold metal frame, maintaining a rigid, obedient posture.
She kept her eyes lowered, her long silver lashes casting faint shadows under the light, hiding the turmoil beneath.
Ye Lan’s fingers were warm and strong, gently kneading her ankle.
That touch had once made her tremble and fear; now it only left numb endurance.
She lifted Mu Xi’s left foot, placing it on her lap, her fingertips tracing the pale, delicate skin—from round toes to slender arch to small heel. Mu Xi’s feet were small, so thin the faint blue veins were visible. The movements were gentle, with a near-religious obsession, yet carried an undeniable possessiveness.
“Why… do you like my feet so much?”
This question she had never asked before. The fingertips stopped at her small toes, gently rubbing. The pressure wasn’t strong, but the possessiveness was undeniable.
Ye Lan’s fingertips brushed across, bringing a faint ticklish sensation. Mu Xi bit her lip, suppressing the voice in her heart. Back then, she only had hate and fear.
“Ye Lan.” Mu Xi finally spoke, her voice as flat as still water.
Ye Lan lifted her face, her deep phoenix eyes shimmering seductively in the warm light.
She gazed at Mu Xi, a faint smile curving her lips—not her usual arrogance, but a strange frankness.
“Born with it,” she answered, her fingertips still lingering on Mu Xi’s arch. “I can’t control it myself.”
She paused, pressing her thumb into a sensitive point on Mu Xi’s sole. Mu Xi’s body tensed imperceptibly for a moment, then relaxed.
Ye Lan caught the subtle change, her smile deepening with understanding.
“But,” she shifted the topic, pulling Mu Xi’s ankle slightly closer, while her other hand rose to caress Mu Xi’s cheek, “I still care about the face.”
The icy fingertips touched the warm skin. Mu Xi didn’t flinch.
She was forced to look up, meeting Ye Lan’s eyes that seemed to see through everything.
Ye Lan’s thumb traced the outline of Mu Xi’s lips. That rosy, tender color was her favorite.
“This face,” Ye Lan’s voice dropped, magnetic and hypnotic, “is the root of my downfall.”
Mu Xi understood. She was praising her beauty. But this compliment was like honey laced with poison—sweet on the surface, deadly beneath.
It reminded her that everything about her, from body to appearance, was owned by this person.
A familiar chill rose in Mu Xi’s heart, but she forced it down.
She kept her expression blank, her breathing barely audible.
“Your obedience,” Ye Lan suddenly chuckled, her fingertips sliding from Mu Xi’s lips to her chin, gently gripping it, “is getting more and more practiced.”
Mu Xi’s heart clenched.
‘Did she see through me?’
‘No, perhaps just a casual remark.’
Mu Xi told herself to stay calm, not to lose her composure.