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From the darkness, thick and stagnant like a pool of dead water, came a faint sound.
A dim yellow light flickered to life, hazily scattering the shadows around it.
On the crude wooden bed lay layers of discarded, filthy cardboard.
Flecks of blood had long since oxidized into black stains.
In some places, the paper had rotted through from the blood, so fragile it would tear apart with the slightest touch.
On the ebony nightstand rested a cake box of unknown origin.
Mold crept over every last crumb inside.
The glass cup that should have held water was overturned on top of the cake, reflecting twisted beams beneath the faint light.
A faint stench of blood mingled with the odor of rot and decay, permeating the entire space.
The person locked to the bed, their back facing the light, wore nothing but a tattered, thin shirt.
Long black hair, matted and tangled, hung down in knots.
The moment the light fell upon them, their gaunt frame shivered and curled in on itself.
Skin so pale it seemed translucent quivered under the light’s approach, as though the slightest touch of it might reduce them to ashes—like a vampire on the brink of death.
“Good evening, Sister Yu.”
The girl who had turned on the light approached the bed.
She wore a white velvet printed Lolita gown, fluffy and voluminous, and held a black parasol elegantly in her right hand.
Her left carried a food container.
Unhurried, she walked toward Yu Zhu, her voice low and soft, like a devil’s whisper.
It was… night again.
Yu Zhu no longer remembered how long they had been locked in this place.
The endless darkness was so suffocating that even the warmth of sunlight had been forgotten.
All sense of time had been stripped away by silence, hunger, and pain.
“Sister Yu, are you hungry?”
Ming Yue set the food box on the nightstand.
She untied the ribbon at her waist and, with the air of a noble lady, sat gracefully on the edge of the bed.
Turning slightly, she brushed back the hair from the youth’s shoulder, then gripped him by the shoulder to force his trembling body to face her.
Ming Yue tied the ribbon around his neck.
The oversized bow concealed the unsightly Adam’s apple.
Yu Zhu’s fine, delicate features came into view, his dark lashes lifting like butterfly wings.
His pitch-black pupils reflected no light at all, staring emptily at the girl before him.
“Sister Yu, you’re so beautiful.”
Her eyes grew hazy as she leaned in to breathe against his neck, inhaling deeply.
Her hot breath spilled over his fragile skin, stirring a shudder that pierced all the way into his bones.
Ming Yue’s hand caressed his icy face.
Her gaze fell on a thin scar stretching across his nose, the wound festering faintly, grotesque beneath the dim glow.
Slowly she rose, half her face cast in shadow, her words laced with biting frost.
“When did Gu Wanting come?
Did you let her touch your face?”
Yu Zhu’s eyes flickered faintly, falling upon her without a ripple of emotion.
His gaze carried no focus—looking at her, yet seeing nothing at all.
“Speak!”
At those two words, Yu Zhu’s body jerked violently out of control.
Though pressed against the wall, he still tried to retreat further.
His thin legs, little more than skin stretched over bone, made his trousers hang loose and empty.
He curled up, hands covering his head, his entire posture screaming defense.
He could not speak.
He must not speak.
The pain that tore from the depths of his soul surged upward again.
Yu Zhu clutched his head tightly, smothering the broken whimpers clawing at his throat.
[ Sister Yu, your voice is horrible.
From now on, you’re not allowed to speak. ]
[ Didn’t you hear me?
Yu Zhu, if you disobey, I won’t mind turning you into a mute. ]
[ Don’t speak!
Don’t speak! ]
That time, the ruthless girl had held a sharp blade in her hand.
The tip grazed across his throat, and the blood that welled up stained the pure white ribbon.
His clear, ringing voice was silenced in his throat.
And as the ribbon tightened little by little, it disappeared entirely.
He must not speak.
He must not speak…
“Sister Yu, be good.
If you don’t want to talk, then don’t.”
A warm hand clamped around the youth’s frail wrist.
She pulled his hands away from his face and, meeting his dazed and panicked gaze, lowered herself to press a kiss onto the bridge of his nose.
Her hot tongue traced over the thin scar, licking along the wound with a searing heat that defied words.
Sweeping over the surrounding skin as well, she sensed Yu Zhu’s unease.
Her hand pressed firmly to the back of his head, forcing him to meet her movements head-on.
At length, Ming Yue released his hands.
She watched him gasp for breath, his chest heaving beneath his tattered shirt.
Licking her lips with satisfaction, she reached for the food box by her side.
“Sister Yu, aren’t you hungry?
I brought you food.
If you finish it like a good girl, there’ll be a reward.”
Inside the box, the shredded meat had long since gone cold, a layer of white grease congealing on the surface.
Ming Yue stirred up a full layer with her chopsticks, then picked up chopped chilies and held the chopsticks to Yu Zhu’s lips.
Yu Zhu could no longer remember when Gu Wanting had last visited.
Perhaps three days ago.
Perhaps four.
His failing stomach could no longer measure the time by hunger’s pain.
That time, she had brought cake.
She tossed it on the ground and watched him take a few bites before yanking him back onto the bed by his hair.
The lash of the whip tore his flesh from his bones, the pain so sharp that he vomited all the cake back up.
Blankly, Yu Zhu licked the grease from the chopsticks clean.
The chili burned through his stomach like a detonated bomb, but his expression didn’t change.
Like a machine running on command, he bit down again on the chopsticks Ming Yue pressed to his lips.
When Yu Zhu had finished, Ming Yue packed the box away and stood.
Outside the door was only pitch black.
His gaze remained fixed on the empty spot where the chopsticks had lingered, not even shifting at her departure.
He was no longer the Yu Zhu who would stare desperately at the door, clinging to the faintest hope of light.
That…
Had hurt far too much.
Ming Yue returned carrying a paper bag.
She placed it at the foot of the cardboard bed, then circled to the headboard, changing the chains on Yu Zhu’s wrists.
The previous ones had been too short—more suited to Gu Wanting’s cruelty, but not to her.
“Sister, here’s your reward.”
Ming Yue rested her forehead lightly against Yu Zhu’s, her voice unbearably gentle as she called him sister.
She opened the bag and took something out.
“Sister, will you change yourself, or should I help you?”
It was a pair of black lace-patterned Lolita stockings.
Softly draped over her hand, she gazed at them as though they were priceless treasures.
The youth’s expression was vacant as he looked at her, body unmoving.
“Then let me help Sister change.”
Seating herself at the foot of the bed, Ming Yue spoke to herself as she gently pulled at his bent legs.
Two years of captivity had reduced the once-radiant youth—who had once strode through school, bright as dandelions scattered in the wild winds—into little more than skin and bone.
His mind was muddled, his body withered, his ability to hold a normal conversation destroyed.
The legs that had once run so freely on the basketball court, strong and sure, were now pale and brittle, as though a mere touch might snap them in two.
Beneath the skin, faint blue veins pulsed weakly, carrying blood that stuttered and stalled.
Ming Yue clasped his sharp ankle, slowly sliding the black stocking upward.
His snow-pale skin was netted in dark lace.
There was no flesh for the fabric to press into, no curve to shape, yet the contrast was devastatingly alluring—something that begged to be desecrated, torn apart, swallowed whole.
The stocking never reached the top.
Just a few centimeters above the thigh, Ming Yue could restrain herself no longer.
She pushed him back onto the cardboard bed.
Adjusting her skirt, she knelt above him like a black lotus.
The rough planks scraped against her knees, but the sting only fed her excitement.
Clutching tightly to Yu Zhu’s frail leg, she bent down, unable to hold back.
Her glossed lips parted.
White teeth bit into the edge of the stocking.
Like savoring fine tea, she dragged it down with deliberate slowness, strip by strip.
Her burning breath spilled over the youth’s long-forgotten legs.
Clutching the damp fabric in her teeth, Ming Yue pressed her tongue against the hypersensitive skin beneath, leaving crimson marks scattered like plum blossoms on snow.
Muffled whimpers spilled from her throat as she tugged at the stocking.
Yu Zhu’s body shuddered uncontrollably with each ragged breath.
His head tilted back, gaze locked on a patch of ceiling lost in shadow.
He wanted so badly…
So desperately…
To die.
The adventure continues! If you loved this chapter, I Just Wanted An Ordinary Life This Time is a must-read. Click here to start!
Read : I Just Wanted An Ordinary Life This Time
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