‘What… what is she doing?’ Xue Ji’s thoughts were thrown into chaos by Ling Xiaoxiao’s words.
Her clothes had already been torn to shreds earlier, leaving her as helpless as fish on a chopping block.
Though Ling Xiaoxiao’s hands never stopped moving, she hadn’t truly crossed that final line.
“Master, do you know how I’ve spent these thousand years?” Ling Xiaoxiao murmured, her right hand gently caressing Xue Ji’s cheek, her smile laced with mockery.
Xue Ji turned her face away, letting Ling Xiaoxiao’s hand hover in empty air. Even so, she refused to open her eyes and look at her.
“Heh… Master, why the temper tantrum?” Ling Xiaoxiao rose slightly, kneeling over Xue Ji’s thighs, pinning her hands to the bed in a scene ripe for imagination.
Feeling the weight pressing down on her, Xue Ji couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, which only made Ling Xiaoxiao smirk in satisfaction.
“You let me indulge in playing with you, yet you still put on this act of purity?” Her tone carried a hint of accusation.
At this, Xue Ji finally opened her eyes, locking onto Ling Xiaoxiao’s teasing gaze with a sharp glare—her silent resistance.
This was Xue Ji’s stance. Not as some reincarnated relic of the past, but as herself.
She was the Sage who had returned from another world, a warrior of the Vanguard and the Special Forces, the child of her parents. She had no reason to let some vague past life shackle her.
Moreover, Xue Ji’s soul was still that of a man. She could understand the emotions surfacing from those fragmented memories, and because of that, she had once pitied Ling Xiaoxiao.
But now, having shaken off the emotional turbulence of those hazy recollections, what remained was mostly anger and sorrow.
That woman from a thousand years ago, who had cared so deeply for the world, had searched everywhere to resist an indescribable horror—only to end up with nothing. And even in death, she was subjected to this ingrate’s humiliation and torment.
Even if the memories of being imprisoned in that cabin were now fragmented, the remnants—chains, fear—still sent chills down Xue Ji’s spine.
To be remembered for a thousand years after death… what kind of twisted love is this? She doubted she could stomach it. She even suspected Ling Xiaoxiao might still be preserving her past self’s body. The thought alone made cold sweat break out across her back.
‘And after everything my family did for you, this is how you repay them?’
The two engaged in a silent battle of wills, the suffocating tension making even Shay and Lilith—still crouched on the floor—hold their breaths.
Clearly, Ling Xiaoxiao lacked Xue Ji’s patience. Seeing her continued coldness, she tightened her left hand around Xue Ji’s wrists and let her right hand roam lower.
But this time, Xue Ji refused to tolerate it.
Her hands shifted into water, slipping free of Ling Xiaoxiao’s grasp before clamping down on the offending wrist.
“Do you really think I’m still your Master?” Xue Ji’s voice was icy, her expression unyielding—no trace of her earlier vulnerability remained.
Ling Xiaoxiao’s smile faltered. “Don’t joke, Master. You remembered everything—even called me ‘Xiao’er.’ Are you really going to play dumb now?”
Though she tried to maintain her composure, the tightness in her grip betrayed her unease.
Xue Ji caught it instantly, a confident smirk forming. The balance of power between them had just shifted.
“Even if I’m connected to that pitiful Master of yours, that’s nothing more than a past life to me.” Xue Ji had thought herself resolute, but the words left an ache in her chest.
Ling Xiaoxiao’s composure shattered. She scrambled off Xue Ji, her hands trembling, breaths uneven—fear now impossible to hide.
As Xue Ji opened her mouth to continue, Ling Xiaoxiao shook her head desperately, tears welling in her reddened eyes, pleading silently.
Xue Ji closed her eyes, recalling the violence she had just endured. She used that suffocating memory to suppress her pity, wiping away a stray tear as she sat up.
“My parents took care of you. I’m their child. I’m the Sage who returned from another world, a warrior, a pioneer—hell, even a student.”
She paused. “So tell me—which of these is your ‘Master’?”
Shay and Lilith, who had just risen to their feet, froze at Xue Ji’s frigid tone.
Lilith, muttering under her breath (“Ugh, what a messy relationship. Thank the stars it’s not mine.”), quickly latched onto Shay and began dragging her toward the door.
Xue Ji’s glare snapped toward them. “And what right do you have to bully them?” she demanded, pointing at the two now halfway out the door.
“W-Wait, us too?!” Lilith and Shay yelped in unison.
“They’re also people I brought into this world—no different from you! And after all that ‘benefactor’ nonsense, you’re dropping the act now?”
【What will it take for you to let me go?!】
The scene overlapped with one from a thousand years ago, and Ling Xiaoxiao’s already-fragile rationality crumbled completely.
Xue Ji pressed on, her words rapid-fire.
Ling Xiaoxiao’s hands shook violently, her heart in agony. Bloody tears streaked down her face.
A thousand years of longing had warped her emotions beyond reason. Love, in its extremity, had twisted into hatred. She wanted to forget—but couldn’t bear to let go.
She feared losing these feelings, these obsessions, becoming someone else. And so, she had suffered for a millennium, tormented by this indescribable bond.
Yet now, it was being cast aside so easily…
Ling Xiaoxiao fell into silence, her hollow gaze fixed on Xue Ji, bloody tears flowing endlessly.
Seeing her unstable state, Xue Ji quickly activated a teleportation spell, whisking them both away to the forest where they had first met.
Changing into a pristine white robe, Xue Ji remained by Ling Xiaoxiao’s side. She couldn’t leave—not when Ling Xiaoxiao might lose control and cause irreversible damage.
And if she were honest with herself, she was also afraid of leaving her in danger. A flimsy excuse, but one she clung to nonetheless.
Night fell. A sinister aura radiated from Ling Xiaoxiao, yet Xue Ji stayed.
The moon tonight bore a faint crimson hue—much like the eyes now staring at Xue Ji.
Eyes that were bewitching, ominous, and dripping with dangerous allure.
Seeing that Ling Xiaoxiao still retained some rationality, Xue Ji spoke. “If you’re fine, I’ll take my leave.” She turned to go, steps hurried.
But after only a few paces, a pair of hands seized her firmly.
“Master~” The voice was sultry, dripping with temptation, like a siren’s call.
Distracted, Xue Ji barely registered being pulled into an embrace before—
“Let go! I’m not your Mast—mmph!“
Under the eerie moonlight, an aggressive kiss shattered Xue Ji’s defenses completely.
The sacred white robe, so loose and flowing, left her vulnerable—wide open for invasion.
And so, beneath this abnormal moon, abnormal things transpired.
A hummingbird, meant for daylight, now flitted through the night, drawn to a freshly bloomed white lily.
Its slender, nimble tongue moved with the grace of a dancer, each motion like a note in a symphony of life.
For a fleeting moment, bird and flower shared a hazy connection.
Under the crimson-tinged moon, the lily too began to change.
The lost bird, mistaking this flower for its sole sanctuary, found peace only here—enough to drift into dreams.