This is no ordinary reading material.
From tentative first steps to lingering love, fiery passion and desire.
Delicate brushstrokes, explicit descriptions.
Every word, every scene between the two girls is filled with a tension that makes one’s face burn.
Mu Xi’s heart suddenly raced.
She instinctively wanted to close the book and throw it aside but her fingers seemed to disobey, instead gripping the pages tighter.
‘What was Ye Lan’s intention in giving her these books? Was it simply a twisted sense of fun, to watch her flustered and embarrassed? Or another test? She knew there were cameras in this room; Ye Lan’s people could be watching her every move from some corner.’
Shame and a strange curiosity waged war in her heart.
She bit her lower lip, but in the end, she couldn’t resist that secret longing.
‘Even if she was being watched, so what? She was alone in the room, Ye Lan had already left. Hadn’t she already decided to fully comply with Ye Lan’s every desire now?’
She took a deep breath, walked to the bedside, and sat down, opening the book on her lap again. This time, she forced herself to calm down and read seriously.
The words in the book seemed to carry a magic, dragging her little by little into a world woven from love and desire.
She saw the characters’ cautious touches, heard their breaths exchanged in the dark, felt the shivers of their skin meeting. Those scenes she had never experienced, never even dared to imagine, now unfolded before her eyes with startling clarity through the words. Her breathing grew rapid, a strange heat rising from deep within her body.
It was as if she were no longer Mu Xi, but had become a character in the book. She could feel the numbness when a fingertip traced down a spine, could experience the peace and reliance of seeking comfort in each other’s arms. These unfamiliar emotions assaulted her senses, making her dizzy.
She unconsciously pressed her legs together, her fingers curling, clutching the bedsheet beneath her.
‘Why is this happening? She should hate this, hate everything Ye Lan is forcing on her.’
But her body’s response was so honest, so honest it frightened her.
She thought of Ye Lan—the feeling of Ye Lan’s touch, the scent of Ye Lan’s kiss, even the degrading yet strangely exciting feeding at the dinner table just now.
The hatred still existed, clear and deep, but beneath that hatred, something seemed to be quietly growing.
Ye Lan had done it on purpose. She wanted to use this method to make her indulge, to lose herself in shame and desire, until she could never leave her.
Mu Xi slammed the book shut and threw it aside.
The book landed on the soft carpet with little sound. She curled up, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders trembling slightly.
The heat had not yet fully faded, and her heart still pounded unevenly.
She felt incredibly humiliated and degraded, not just from reading those contents, but from her own body’s shameful reaction.
She hated herself, and hated even more the Ye Lan who had turned her into this.
But no matter how strong the hatred, it couldn’t change anything.
She lifted her head and looked out the window. The sky seemed darker now. Lights in the distant watchtower flickered on, like cold eyes watching every corner of this steel fortress. A layer of cold ink-colored night had fully enveloped Stone City, dyeing the iron fortress in a chill darkness, and watching her, the prisoner with nowhere to flee.
Inside the Silent Language Building, the lights were not very bright, just enough to outline Ye Lan’s stern silhouette.
A dull stillness filled the air until the sound of the metal door being pushed open broke it.
Ye Lan had returned.
She carried the dust of the outside world, a trace of barely noticeable sand on her boots, slightly disheveled strands of hair sticking to her cheeks, adding a touch of genuine fatigue to her usual sharp demeanor. But those deep, slanted phoenix eyes were still sharp, and as they swept the living room, they pinpointed Mu Xi curled up in a corner of the sofa.
Mu Xi’s heart leaped, nearly bursting out of her chest. She instinctively straightened her back, her hands on her knees tightening, fingertips digging into the soft fabric. She had maintained this position from the moment she closed that book, as if it could ward off those lingering images and the residual strangeness in her body.
Ye Lan took off her dusty jacket, tossed it casually onto the hanger by the entrance, and then walked step by step toward Mu Xi. Her footsteps echoed clearly in the quiet room, unhurried, carrying a calm control over everything.
She stopped in front of Mu Xi, looking down at her, a meaningful smile curling at the corners of her lips.
Mu Xi lifted her head, her eyes meeting Ye Lan’s gaze that seemed to see through everything, then quickly dropped them to stare at her own clasped hands. She could feel Ye Lan’s eyes on her head, heavy with scrutiny.
“Finished reading?”
Ye Lan’s voice was a little hoarse, as if she had talked too much or was tired from the journey.
Ye Lan didn’t press further. Instead, she walked around to sit on the sofa, a person’s distance away from Mu Xi. She leaned back, tilting her head slightly, still fixated on Mu Xi with undisguised curiosity. “Any thoughts on the contents of that book?”
She paused, as if choosing her words, or perhaps just enjoying controlling the rhythm of the conversation.
This question was like a key, about to open the door to shame and panic she had just locked tightly. Mu Xi’s heart beat faster. She could feel her cheeks burning—the words and images from that book, the explicit descriptions, the intimate moments that made her heart race… began surging again in her mind.
She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the lump in her throat. ‘Compliance, obedience—this is the path she chose. What did shame matter? Disgrace? She had long lost any dignity in front of Ye Lan.’
Mu Xi raised her head again, this time forcing herself to meet Ye Lan’s gaze. There was no mockery in those eyes, only pure curiosity and an indescribable heat.
“It’s…” Mu Xi’s voice was dry; she cleared her throat before continuing, “very stimulating.”
She saw Ye Lan’s eyebrow lift slightly, as if surprised by the answer, but perhaps also expecting it.
“And?”
Ye Lan pressed, leaning forward slightly, closing the distance between them. Her unique scent, mixed with a faint smell of gunpowder and a cold fragrance, enveloped Mu Xi.
Mu Xi bit her lower lip, digging her nails into her palm; the pain kept her slightly clear-headed. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was a hint of reckless abandon in them.
“…and, I liked it a lot.”
Those three words were forced out through clenched teeth, trembling even to her own ears. “When I was reading… my body felt hot too.”
As her voice died away, the room fell into deeper silence.
Mu Xi could clearly hear her own heart pounding like a drum, and Ye Lan’s breathing that had become slightly ragged.
She didn’t dare look at Ye Lan’s expression, only stared intently at a pattern on the sofa arm.
After a long moment, Ye Lan’s low laugh broke the silence.