“Oh, isn’t this our little darling?”
Qing Yun paused mid-step, her hand darting toward Mu Xi’s face with a teasing grin.
Lin Ke’er swiftly intercepted, her grip firm on Qing Yun’s wrist.
“Qing Yun, don’t you think you’re overstepping?”
“Pfft,” Qing Yun scoffed, yanking her hand back with a dismissive smirk.
“What’s this? A mere bodyguard captain thinks she can meddle in my affairs?”
“I’m a bodyguard captain, true,” Lin Ke’er shot back, her voice steady, “but protecting Mu Xi is my duty. Lay one finger on her, and you’ll regret it.”
Qing Yun let out a sharp, derisive snort, her eyes narrowing as she shot Mu Xi a venomous glance before sauntering off.
Mu Xi exhaled softly, a flicker of satisfaction warming her chest.
Her subtle retreat had worked like a charm—Lin Ke’er had taken the bait.
“Don’t worry,” Lin Ke’er said, giving Mu Xi’s head a gentle pat.
“With me here, no one’s touching you. Though, you still owe me a sniff of those shoes, you know.”
“…You’re such a weirdo!” Mu Xi muttered, her cheeks flushing.
Back in her room, Mu Xi leaned against the door, her voice low.
“Sister ke’er, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t let Qing Yun anywhere near here.”
“Relax,” Lin Ke’er’s voice came through the door, calm and reassuring.
“I’ve already got extra guards posted in the hallway. Go take a shower.”
“As if I wasn’t going to!” Mu Xi grumbled, trudging toward the bathroom.
Hot water cascaded over her toes as she perched on the edge of the bathtub, scrubbing her feet with care.
Her thoughts drifted to Lin Ke’er’s odd fixation, and she rolled her eyes.
“Playing with feet, sniffing shoes—what kind of nonsense is that?”
Freshly showered, she dried off and collapsed onto the bed, her mind replaying the scene from the garden earlier that day.
A narrow, unassuming path had caught her eye, half-hidden behind a tangle of shrubs.
She wouldn’t have noticed it at all if not for a fleeting glance.
At the path’s end, she’d spotted the faint outline of an iron gate, its destination a mystery.
“Could it be a way out?” Mu Xi murmured, flipping onto her side to stare at the ceiling.
“But there’s bound to be guards. Ye Lan, that creep, wouldn’t leave an opening like that.”
“Mu Xi, what’re you muttering about in there?” Lin Ke’er’s voice broke through from the other side of the door.
“Nothing!” Mu Xi bolted upright.
“Just… thinking about the song I still need to practice.”
“Keep at it tomorrow,” Lin Ke’er replied.
“Rest for now. Oh, and I just caught Qing Yun lurking nearby. Don’t worry—I sent her packing.”
“Thanks, sister ke’er,” Mu Xi said, a wave of relief washing over her.
For a bodyguard captain, Lin Ke’er was proving surprisingly dependable.
As night fell, the forest beyond the window melted into darkness, with only distant lights flickering like fireflies.
Mu Xi lay sprawled on her bed, idly counting the patterns on the ceiling, boredom gnawing at her.
A sharp knock—”tap, tap, tap”—shattered the room’s stillness.
“Come in,” she called.
A maid in a crisp black-and-white uniform slipped inside, cradling an oversized tablet.
“Miss, Boss Ye instructed me to deliver this. He said a video call is coming soon.”
Mu Xi’s stomach tightened, her fingers trembling as she took the device.
Sure enough, the screen lit up almost instantly with Ye Lan’s video request.
The maid bowed out, closing the door with a soft click.
Mu Xi took a deep breath and tapped to accept.
Ye Lan’s face filled the screen—raven hair spilling like a waterfall, sharp phoenix eyes glinting with a subtle upward tilt, and crimson lips curling into a cryptic smile.
Even through the screen, her presence was suffocating.
“My little pet, have you missed me?” Ye Lan’s voice carried a lazy, teasing lilt.
“G-Greetings, Master,” Mu Xi stammered, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Look up. Let me see you properly.”
Reluctantly, she raised her gaze, forcing a calm facade.
“I’ve been very good.”
“Sing for me,” Ye Lan commanded, her tone leaving no room for refusal.
Mu Xi clenched her jaw, swallowing the unease churning in her chest.
As she began to sing, she stole glances at the background behind Ye Lan—gray stone walls, the faint gleam of metal, and the distant hum of machinery.
The gold mine, no doubt.
“In the moonlit garden, butterflies dance lightly…”
Her voice, clear and melodic, filled the room.
Though her technique was raw, her natural talent lent the song a delicate charm.
She slowed her pace deliberately, scanning for any useful detail.
Ye Lan propped her chin in her hand, her gaze locked on her, lips curving faintly.
“Not bad.”
“Really?” Mu Xi’s heart skipped, a flicker of hope igniting.
Was her singing actually impressive?
Ye Lan’s smile twisted, her eyes glinting with mischief.
“You think I’m serious? That was dreadful—worse than the stray cats outside.”
She flicked her hair with an elegant flourish.
“When I return, we’ll have to… train you properly.”
The word “train” dripped with menace, sending a shiver down Mu Xi’s spine.
She bowed her head, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt.
“Scared, are we?” Ye Lan chuckled.
“Don’t worry. The gift I’m bringing back will leave you… utterly captivated.”
Mu Xi’s stomach lurched.
Whatever this “gift” was, it couldn’t be good.
The memory of that suffocating collar still haunted her.
“Master… I-I’ll practice harder,” she said, forcing a smile through her discomfort.
“Good girl,” Ye Lan purred, nodding.
“But practice alone won’t do. I’ve had some special throat lozenges prepared for you. Make sure you take them daily.”
She paused, her smile deepening.
“You’ll see their effects soon enough.”
Mu Xi’s heart sank.
Lozenges?
More like some sinister concoction.
But refusal wasn’t an option, so she nodded stiffly.
“It’s late. Go wash up,” Ye Lan said, and the screen went dark.
Mu Xi collapsed back onto the bed, exhaling shakily.
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the night stretched endlessly, and her thoughts returned to that hidden path.
Maybe, just maybe, it was her only shot at freedom.
The night deepened, the chorus of insects outside rising and falling.
Mu Xi tossed and turned, the image of that secret trail looping in her mind.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” she called.
Lin Ke’er stepped inside, frowning when she saw Mu Xi still awake.
“It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Sister ke’er…” Mu Xi sat up, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I’m… I’m scared.”
“What happened?” Lin Ke’er hurried to the bedside and sat down.
Mu Xi buried her face in Lin Ke’er’s arms like a frightened rabbit.
“Master called earlier… said he’s bringing back a ‘gift.’ I’m so afraid.”
Lin Ke’er patted her back gently.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
Mu Xi looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Sister ke’er, you’re the best.”
Lin Ke’er wiped the tears from Mu Xi’s cheeks, her expression softening.
“Silly girl, no more crying.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she reached into her boot and pulled out a small folding knife.
“Here. Take this.”
Mu Xi blinked, startled.
“What’s this?”
“For protection,” Lin Ke’er whispered.
“It’s small, but it could save you in a pinch. Especially if Qing Yun tries anything.”
She mimed a throat-cutting gesture.
Mu Xi shrank back instinctively.
“I-I don’t know… What if someone finds it?”
“It’s tiny. Hide it well, and no one will know,” Lin Ke’er said, pressing the knife into Mu Xi’s hand.
“Keep it safe. Don’t let anyone see.”
Mu Xi gripped the handle, her pulse racing.
Was this a lifeline… or a trap?
Was Lin Ke’er testing her loyalty?