After a long moment, the sharpness on her face softened slightly, but the aura of total control had not dissipated.
“Better not be.” Ye Lan said calmly, her tone brooking no doubt. “Don’t forget, your life belongs to me. No matter what I become, this will never change.”
This sentence was like a bucket of cold water, instantly extinguishing the unclear feelings that had just risen in Mu Xi’s heart.
‘Right, how could she forget? She was Ye Lan’s property, from body to soul, branded with an indelible mark by this person long ago.’
Her face paled several shades. The hand Ye Lan had been holding instinctively tried to pull back.
However, although Ye Lan’s strength was not at its peak, it was more than enough to restrain her.
Not only did she not let go, she held on even tighter.
Her gaze deepened. “Or… are you angry? What? Scared?” Ye Lan raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing.
Mu Xi bit her lower lip tightly and said nothing.
‘What could she say?’
‘Admit she was afraid? Or admit she felt anger and grief because of those words—”your life belongs to me”?’
‘Either way, it seemed it would only make Ye Lan more excited.’
Silence spread between the two.
Ye Lan’s breathing gradually grew rapid. The extended conversation had clearly consumed her already limited stamina.
She frowned slightly, fine cold sweat seeping from her forehead, her complexion growing even paler.
Due to exhaustion, she released Mu Xi’s hand—not out of mercy, but concession.
Mu Xi’s hand suddenly gained freedom, yet she didn’t immediately withdraw it. Her fingertips still retained the coldness of Ye Lan’s palm and that unrefusable force.
She watched Ye Lan close her eyes, seemingly enduring the pain from her wounds. That face, usually filled with arrogance and dominance, now held only fragility and exhaustion.
Somewhere in her chest, uncontrollably, softened.
She looked at Ye Lan’s tightly furrowed brows, at her pale, cracked lips. As if possessed, she reached out her other hand and picked up the water cup on the bedside table.
The water in the cup was warm. The guards had prepared it long before.
She hesitated for a moment, then still brought the cup to Ye Lan’s lips.
Ye Lan seemed to sense her movement and slowly opened her eyes.
Those phoenix eyes still held scrutiny, but upon seeing that it was Mu Xi offering the cup, the wariness and sharpness in her gaze receded slightly.
She didn’t speak, only obediently parted her lips slightly, letting Mu Xi carefully feed her the water.
The warm, moist water flowed down her parched throat, bringing a hint of relief.
Ye Lan drank a few sips, then gently shook her head, signaling she’d had enough.
Mu Xi set down the cup. Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against Ye Lan’s sweat-dampened hair at her forehead.
Ye Lan’s body stiffened slightly, but she didn’t pull away.
Mu Xi’s fingers also paused. She could feel the subtle trembling beneath Ye Lan’s skin—proof of pain and weakness.
Silence once again enveloped the room, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.
Gone was the tense confrontation, replaced by a subtle, almost tender tranquility.
Ye Lan’s gaze fell on Mu Xi’s fingers, her expression complex and unreadable.
As if burned, Mu Xi quickly withdrew her hand. Her fingertips still retained the scorching heat of Ye Lan’s forehead.
She lowered her head, not daring to meet Ye Lan’s eyes again, her mind in turmoil.
Ye Lan’s recovery was indeed abnormally fast.
In just a few short days, her paper-pale complexion gradually regained warmth. Though still weak, her breathing had steadied considerably—no longer the faint, threadlike breaths of the beginning, as if they might cease at any moment.
The second bedroom on the second floor of the Silent Language Building had become a temporary command center.
Ye Lan closed her eyes, seemingly asleep. Mu Xi held warm water, dipped a cotton swab in it, and gently moistened Ye Lan’s cracked lips.
Mu Xi’s movements were extremely gentle, almost holding her breath.
She didn’t dare make the slightest sound, afraid of disturbing this person.
These past few days, she had stayed here almost without leaving—feeding water, wiping her body, and then providing the “essence.”
At first, Ye Lan was so weak that even swallowing was difficult. Every feeding was like a prolonged torment—for Ye Lan, and even more so for Mu Xi.
She watched Ye Lan frown in pain, watched that precious liquid trickle down the corner of her lips, and an indescribably complex emotion would always surge in her heart.
Now, Ye Lan’s spirits had improved considerably.
“Sovereign.”
A low, respectful voice sounded at the doorway, breaking the room’s tranquility.
The Captain of the Personal Guard, in a purple military uniform, stood ramrod straight at the door without stepping inside.
Her gaze first settled on Ye Lan, confirming her condition, then subtly swept over Mu Xi.
Ye Lan didn’t open her eyes, only letting out an extremely soft “mm” from her throat.
“The identities of the attackers have been preliminarily identified,” the Captain of the Personal Guard reported with a steady, clear cadence. “It was Ba He, the Deputy Commander of the City Defense Force, who allied with several minor family powers dissatisfied with your takeover of Stone City. There seems to be some unusual activity at the weapons arsenal west of the city.”
Mu Xi’s hand holding the cotton swab paused slightly. Deputy Commander of the City Defense Force, Ba He.
She had a vague impression of this name—it seemed he was one of Nan Qiao’s capable subordinates.
So Ye Lan’s position in Stone City was even more unstable than she had imagined.
Ye Lan slowly opened her eyes. In those deep phoenix eyes, sharp light instantly gathered, the previous fatigue and weakness seemingly dispelled completely by this sudden chill.
“Ba He…” She repeated the name softly, a cold, sharp arc curving at the corner of her mouth. “Just a jumping clown. Once we resolve the situation at hand, we’ll go straight to kill him.”
“Yes.” The Captain of the Personal Guard acknowledged the order.
Only the two of them remained in the room once more.
The way Ye Lan handled affairs with that air of total control left Mu Xi feeling dazed.
It was as if that gravely wounded woman on the brink of death had been an illusion, and the person before her now—with sharp eyes and issuing orders—was the real Ye Lan.
Yet the fine sweat on her forehead and her still excessively pale complexion reminded Mu Xi that this person was far from healed.
Ye Lan’s gaze turned to Mu Xi. The sharpness in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a more complex emotion.
She looked at Mu Xi, her gaze focused and scrutinizing, yet seemingly mixed with something else.
It was a gaze Mu Xi had never seen in her eyes before—an almost dependent look.
Though it lasted only a moment, so brief it felt like an illusion, Mu Xi had undoubtedly caught it.
Her heartbeat inexplicably skipped a beat.
Mu Xi hastily lowered her head, avoiding her gaze, and continued dipping the cotton swab in water.
“Little Xi.” Ye Lan suddenly spoke, her voice carrying the distinctive hoarseness after injury, yet also exuding a lazy quality.
Mu Xi’s body stiffened. She looked up.
Ye Lan looked at her with a hint of amusement in her eyes, as if appreciating her current fidgeting unease.
“I’m thirsty.”
Mu Xi pressed her lips together, set down the cotton swab, and reached for the water cup beside her.
“Not that one.” Ye Lan interrupted. Her gaze fell on Mu Xi’s chest, eyes deep and dark, carrying undisguised desire and an almost greedy demand.
Mu Xi’s cheeks instantly burned, red spreading from the roots of her ears down to her neck.
She knew what Ye Lan meant.
These past few days, as Ye Lan’s spirits improved, these demands had become increasingly frequent and increasingly direct.
Ye Lan no longer needed her to feed her as carefully as at first. Sometimes she would even take the initiative to draw close, using her eyes, her movements, to hint at her needs.
The amusement and deep meaning in those eyes left Mu Xi at a loss every time, blushing to the tips of her ears.