Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting bright spots on the floor, shifting slowly with time.
In the afternoon, she returned to the bedroom on the second floor.
The room was very tidy.
The large bed occupied most of the space, with soft sheets that smelled of laundry, sunshine, and disinfectant mixed together.
In the corner were several new dolls Ye Lan had sent over earlier.
They weren’t the ornate, delicate court dolls she remembered from her childhood, but simpler, softer plushies with big eyes and stitched-on smiles.
She picked up a teddy bear wearing a blue dress, hugged it to her chest, and unconsciously rubbed its soft surface with her fingers.
She sat down on the carpet by the bed, leaning her back against the edge of the bed, and buried her face in the plush’s fur.
Around 2:00 PM, footsteps and the heavy sound of metal doors opening echoed from outside the building again.
The workers had returned.
Soon, construction noise came from the rooftop again—hammering, cutting, the dull thuds of heavy objects being moved, and workers’ hushed conversations.
These sounds pierced through the ceiling and drifted intermittently into her ears.
She didn’t move, still hugging the plush, curled up by the bed.
The noise seemed far away and yet right next to her ears.
It was the clamor of another world, unrelated to the small, isolated space she occupied.
Ye Lan had said they would try to be quiet.
They were indeed careful, but building a hot spring couldn’t be completely silent.
She didn’t think about what it would look like when finished, or why Ye Lan was doing this, or the hot spring itself.
Those thoughts only brought more confusion and helplessness.
She just needed to stay here, like this, holding the doll.
The evening sunlight filtered through the window, dyeing the room a hazy yellow.
At dusk, the noise from the rooftop finally stopped.
Mu Xi remained sitting in the same spot, her body somewhat stiff, unable to relax even in the soft glow of the setting sun.
The endless desert stretched out, the sky a somber purple.
Gray buildings cast long shadows under the setting sun; everything in this distant city had a metallic, cold quality.
From here, a part of Stone City was visible.
She put down the plush, stood up, and walked to the window.
She turned and walked back to the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over the plushies, then slowly picked them up one by one and placed them back on the headboard.
They lay there quietly, as if silently accompanying her.
At that moment, the sound of a metal door opening came from downstairs.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened slightly.
She knew who had returned.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, unhurried.
Mu Xi turned and looked toward the door.
The door pushed open, and Ye Lan walked in.
She wore a black uniform, her figure tall and straight, her jet-black hair tied up in a high ponytail, revealing a smooth forehead.
She looked like a queen stepping out of the shadows.
The sunset light gilded her silhouette with a golden edge, making her particularly striking.
There were several slight tears on the shoulders and cuffs of her uniform, already roughly treated.
She carried a faint smell of blood and a hint of gunpowder.
Mu Xi looked at her without speaking or moving.
Her expression was calm, her eyes serene, revealing no emotion.
She just stood there quietly, like a prisoner awaiting judgment, as if her entire being could be seen through.
Ye Lan’s gaze fell on Mu Xi, her eyes deep as if trying to see through her completely.
She paused at the doorway, then walked in and closed the door behind her.
Ye Lan spoke, her voice low, carrying a hint of barely perceptible fatigue, “Xi’er.”
She walked up to Mu Xi, stopped, and looked down at her.
Mu Xi raised her head and met Ye Lan’s gaze.
She saw deep in Ye Lan’s eyes a trace of carefully concealed fatigue, and something deeper and more complex.
What was it?
Guilt?
Concern?
Or just another manifestation of possessiveness?
“You’re injured?”
Mu Xi’s voice was very soft, carrying a hint of concern she herself hadn’t noticed.
After saying it, she was startled herself.
Ye Lan raised an eyebrow, seeming surprised that Mu Xi had taken the initiative to speak and even expressed concern.
She raised a hand to touch her shoulder, where an energy weapon had grazed her; it had already been treated with medicine.
“Just a small wound, nothing serious.”
Ye Lan said it lightly, her gaze still fixed on Mu Xi’s face, not missing any change in expression.
“How was your day? Any discomfort?”
Mu Xi shook her head.
“Did you have lunch?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do this afternoon?”
Ye Lan continued to ask, her tone very calm and soft.
“Played with dolls.”
Mu Xi pointed at the plushies on the headboard, her voice still low.
Ye Lan’s gaze followed her finger to the plushies, and her eyes softened for a moment.
She reached out, wanting to stroke Mu Xi’s hair, but her hand stopped mid-motion, as if hesitating over something.
Ye Lan’s voice softened, carrying a hint of gentleness, “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”
But her tone was still commanding, unquestionable.
Mu Xi didn’t speak, just silently looked at her.
She knew Ye Lan wouldn’t hurt her, at least not directly like in the past.
What Ye Lan wanted was her heart; she would use love to tame her and make her submit willingly.
Mu Xi suddenly spoke, her voice very soft but clear, “I… want to smile at you.”
She lifted the corners of her mouth, trying to force a smile, but her facial muscles were stiff and unresponsive, and the smile became twisted and ugly.
Ye Lan looked at her stiff smile, her eyes dimming slightly.
She reached out and gently cupped Mu Xi’s cheeks, her fingertips brushing against her pale skin.
“Don’t force yourself.”
Ye Lan’s voice was low and gentle, as if comforting an injured little bunny.
“Matters of the heart need time; it will come naturally.”
She paused, her tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible pleading, and a kind of self-assurance.
“One day, you will smile at me sincerely, Xi’er. I will make you fall in love with me.”
That night, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
***
The faint light of dawn filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains, barely illuminating one corner of the room.
Mu Xi stirred.
The spot beside her was empty.
She opened her eyes; her silver hair spread across the pillow.
‘Ye Lan had left?’
As usual, she had left before Mu Xi woke up?
Mu Xi sat up, her bare feet landing on the cold floor.
She walked to the window and gently pulled open a crack.
Outside, it was still early; Stone City was shrouded in a grayish morning light, the distant steel outlines blurred.
Everything seemed too quiet.
Her heart suddenly skipped a beat for no reason.
‘Something was wrong.’
Mu Xi threw on an outer garment and hurried out of the bedroom.
The second floor was empty, her footsteps echoing hollowly on the metal stairs.
The farther down she went, the heavier an unusual scent in the air became.
Rust?
No, it was blood.
A thick, pungent smell of blood.
Mu Xi’s heart suddenly accelerated.
She gripped the cold stair railing and quickened her pace.
Turning the corner of the stairs, the scene in the first-floor hall froze her in place instantly, her blood seeming to congeal.
In the center of the hall, Ye Lan lay on the cold floor, a large dark stain of blood spreading beneath her, shocking to behold.
Her uniform, always crisp and black, was now soaked in dark red, torn and damaged, revealing indistinct flesh underneath.
Her face was pale as paper, her eyes tightly closed.
The usual deep and sharp phoenix eyes had lost all their vitality; her long lashes lay down, casting a fragile shadow.
Nine Imperial Guard members in purple armed uniforms surrounded her, their movements frantic, their faces showing unprecedented panic and helplessness.