For the record: after Qiange botched the assassination and got pinned on the spot, palace guards swept Lingcai back to the Princess Manor like a flood carrying driftwood—forced, no choice. Qiange, the assassin, was hauled off to the dungeon, iron bars like cold rain.
When Lingcai had to grit her teeth and push open the manor’s great doors, Xueyu was already there, arms crossed like a locked gate, pressure hanging over her like stormclouds. She jabbed a finger at the floor, waiting like a hunter on a ledge.
No doubt—Xueyu had realized Lingcai tricked her and came to demand blood, eyes like knives.
“Love running, do you? Love climbing walls, huh?” Her voice flicked like a whip.
Xueyu raised a brow; her mouth twitched twice, a smirk like frost cracking. She leaned in, face close enough to fog a mirror, head swaying like a cat’s tail as she drawled, lazy and sharp as a blade under silk: “Getting chased by an assassin was a thrill, right? Fun, wasn’t it? First time, I bet.”
“…I won’t resist anymore. I’m sorry. Please, spare me. Just this once.” Lingcai dropped her pack like a fallen leaf, sank to both knees, and bowed low, her fear curling like smoke in her chest.
Kill-intent poured off Xueyu like winter wind, yet her smile stayed smooth as calm water. “It’s fine. Keep playing—next time I’ll send you off to the afterlife.”
“No need for the funeral rites… I’ll end it myself, don’t trouble yourself…” Terror bit like ants; Lingcai’s small frame trembled backward, a fawn retreating from thunder.
Xueyu stepped in, steady as a tide. She crouched, hooked a finger under Lingcai’s chin, and with a smile like a crescent blade asked, “You think you can fool me, say sorry, and we’re done?”
Lingcai’s left eyelid twitched like a jittering moth; her lips quivered. “In my next life, I’ll be your beast of burden…”
Xueyu tilted her chin higher, forcing their gazes to lock like stars meeting at midnight. “Forget the next life. Do it in this one.”
“I… I’m not even tasty…” Lingcai froze; Xueyu’s look weighed her like a plush ball in a shop window, gaze soft yet predatory as moonlight on a blade.
A sting bloomed on Lingcai’s cheek, a rose-thorn pinch. “What are you imagining? First, figure out how you’ll pay for my sword.”
Xueyu squeezed once, then drifted back to her seat, lazy as a cat in sun.
Lingcai lifted her head, voice half-pleading, half-sugary like candied haw on a stick. “Relax. Let me go home, I’ll find someone to forge you a new one. Best materials, I swear.”
Xueyu lounged, eyes narrowed like slits in a fan. She knew the reins were in her hands and tightened them with ritual slowness. Her lips parted, disdain rolling like a wave, and she let two words fall: “That’s it?”
“…What else do you want? Say it straight.” Cornered, Lingcai set her jaw; worst case, she’d pay with her body—summer heat flooding in, then a chill like a well at midnight. Her stomach dropped.
Her nerves hummed; after these days of “training,” resisting someone’s palm felt like fighting a tide. A bitter laugh fluttered inside—another step toward becoming a plush ball tossed for play.
“I won’t make you do anything else.” Xueyu’s tone thinned out, light as drifting snow. “For now, you obey. Whatever I say—no resistance. In two days I’ll ask Her Highness to let you go home.”
“Really?” Joy flared like fireflies in Lingcai’s eyes, a sudden bloom too bright to read the thorns beneath.
“Then start now. Don’t space out.” Xueyu clapped once, the sound crisp as bamboo in wind, then crooked a finger. “Come.”
“What for?” Lingcai’s voice pricked, wary as a hedgehog.
“Hand. Up.” Xueyu’s pale palm opened, waiting like a white lotus.
Lingcai didn’t understand, but she complied, trusting a quiet that felt like the lull before rain.
“Squat.” The command fell like a stone into a pond.
…Fine, fine. I’ll squat. Lingcai kept her arm outstretched and sank down, knees drawing tight like folded wings.
The pose prickled with déjà vu, memory like a shadow at her back.
Xueyu’s smile crept wide, a fox at the henhouse. “Okay. Bark.”
“Bark your head!” Lingcai’s face changed like stormlight; she shot out a hand to scratch. But Xueyu was the Princess’s bodyguard—steel hidden in silk—Lingcai’s little cat punches could never find flesh.
Do you take me for a puppy?
“Keep going. Why’d you stop?” Xueyu’s delight glittered like frost on glass; Lingcai’s flailing hit every mark she wanted.
She’s a total sadist, an S—teeth bared behind a smile.
Lingcai finally saw it: Xueyu was crafting ways to make her resist, then savoring the sight of helpless struggle, like watching waves break against a cliff.
I’ll remember this! I’ll get you back! Sick pervert! Bloody torturer! Rage boiled like tea left too long; she stared, hard as flint. But seeing Xueyu only grow more excited, her fire doused mid-flame.
“…Woof.” The word fell like a pebble, pride swallowed like bitter medicine, wolf turned puppy.
“Mm…” With Lingcai suddenly docile, Xueyu looked almost bored, a gamer stuck on an easy level.
Then her eyes rolled, a spark catching tinder; her smile tipped up, sly as a crescent moon. “Cai-cai, lift your skirt. Show me your panties.”
“Don’t push me too far!” Cold shot through Lingcai’s thighs like river water; she almost grabbed something heavy and charged like a boar.
But a breath later, she cooled—resisting only fed Xueyu’s flame. Two doors stood: her pride like a pine in snow, and Xueyu’s setup like a snare in grass. Pick one.
Fine. All or nothing.
“…” Lingcai said nothing. She undid the buttons of her top, each click like hail. Xueyu blinked, puzzled, a brow lifting like a reed. “What are you… doing?”
Lingcai rolled her blouse up and flung it aside, a white arc in the air. She stood bare from the waist up, offering her jade-pale skin to the light like moon on still water. “Didn’t you want to see? Then feast your eyes.”
“…Eh?… Huh? What??!” For once, Xueyu’s mind tangled like fishing line; she stared, unguarded, at the girl stripping without a veil, skin bright as snow.
Lingcai tugged free her belt, popped the pleated skirt, and lifted. Now, besides knee-high boots and socks, only a single pair of panties remained—lace edging like frost on petals.
“You think I’m scared of you? If you want to look, then look all you want! It’s not my first time! Let’s see what else you can do!” Her bluntness hit like a drumbeat; Xueyu, shy and scrambled, covered her eyes with one hand like a fan, blush rising like dawn.
“Enough, enough! My fault! Put your clothes on! Hurry, put them on!”
Once she chose to let herself go, fear scattered like birds. Lingcai stayed stripped, strode up, and shouted, voice ringing like a bell across a courtyard: “Come on! Face me head-on!”
