Thump-thump, thump—
The sound of her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears.
Lu Huan’s eyes widened slightly as she swallowed hard.
Fortunately, the coat draped over the front obscured the view, giving Lu Huan a chance to steady her breathing.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with this perfect body laid bare, but she had never seen it presented like this.
The exposed, milky-white skin, the sculpted curves, and the thin straps coiled around the roots of her thighs, squeezing out tantalizing swells of flesh—wherever her gaze landed, it was lethally seductive.
What exactly… did she want to do?
“Sister can do whatever she wants to me.”
Bai Jin gazed at her gently, taking one of Lu Huan’s hands in both of hers and placing it against her cheek. “As I said before.”
Lu Huan lowered her voice, forcing herself to stay calm. “Did I ever say I wanted to do anything to you?”
She never had, not from beginning to end.
Certainly not that she wanted her dressed in something so provocative.
“It was I who said it.” Bai Jin rubbed her cheek lightly against Lu Huan’s palm. “Sister can get her revenge.”
“I did something unforgivable to you, so now… you can take it out on me however you like. I’ll endure anything, as long as it makes you feel better.”
Lu Huan’s temple throbbed as she tightened her grip on the coat draped over Bai Jin, staring straight into her eyes. She repeated herself once more. “I’ve told you many times: what happened last time counts as repayment to you. And before that, I was the one who wronged you first.”
“Now, I don’t need you crying and apologizing or admitting you were wrong. And I don’t need any more repayment from you.”
But Bai Jin heard only rejection in her words.
Rejected…
She lowered her gaze, a thin mist gathering in her eyes, her voice trembling with hurt. “Am I not attractive enough?”
“Does Sister no longer feel any desire for me…?”
Lu Huan stared at her. “……What?”
She couldn’t make sense of Bai Jin’s words—and she realized that no matter what she said, Bai Jin simply wasn’t hearing her.
After digesting that last sentence, Lu Huan trembled with anger.
“Why is it that in your mind, revenge—and seeking forgiveness—always have to involve sex?”
That was how she had taken revenge before. And now this was how she sought revenge in return.
Was that all that filled her head? Just the two of them entwined together?
But Bai Jin offered no answer. Instead, she leaned forward with her upper body, pressing herself even closer.
Lu Huan turned her head aside, dodging the approach.
Bai Jin’s expression darkened. “Can’t I?”
Lu Huan’s voice was ice-cold. “You’ve humiliated me plenty already. So now you want to humiliate yourself in front of me too? Is that it?”
Bai Jin shook her head at the words. “No, it’s not… I…”
Her words trailed off, unfinished. She wanted to explain, but she didn’t know how.
Lu Huan could feel her own voice shaking with fury.
“Bai Jin, what are you turning yourself into with this? And what are you turning me into?”
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
Bai Jin’s eyes drifted downward, her long lashes quivering faintly.
In the next moment, Lu Huan felt a wetness on her fingers.
She froze for a second before realizing that tears were sliding down Bai Jin’s cheek, dampening the space between her fingers.
She was crying.
The tears fell one by one.
Soft, choking sobs filled the living room.
“Sister really doesn’t want to touch me anymore?”
“Am I not attractive enough…?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Please, Sister… get your revenge on me, okay…?”
Each bewildered plea dissolved into another apology. Her helpless weeping echoed softly through the room.
“……”
After a long pause, Lu Huan regained her composure. “That’s enough…”
Her eyes flashed sharply as she straightened the coat around Bai Jin.
“Put this on properly and come here!”
Lu Huan seized Bai Jin’s wrist and dragged her toward her bedroom. She shoved her inside, then switched on her phone’s flashlight, propping it face-up on the cabinet by the door to cast light across the room.
“Change your clothes. Now.”
With that curt command, Lu Huan slammed the door shut and waited outside.
Bai Jin didn’t resist in the slightest from start to finish.
The coat still carried Lu Huan’s scent. Bai Jin huddled into herself, waiting for the heat in her eyes to fade.
Outside the room, Lu Huan’s pounding temple gradually calmed, her heaving chest settling back to normal.
The intoxicating scene from moments ago flickered through her mind; she squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the images.
Inside the room, the sounds of movement had ceased for quite some time before footsteps finally shuffled again.
Lu Huan stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall. She hadn’t budged an inch, simply waiting.
At last, the door creaked open, and Bai Jin emerged.
She had changed back into her regular clothes, standing with her usual poise. The faint glow from the phone flashlight behind her illuminated her steadied expression, though a lingering mist still clouded her eyes.
She held out the coat.
Lu Huan took it wordlessly, along with her phone, then turned on her heel and strode away—her movements crisp and unhesitating.
She was even angrier now than when she’d arrived.
Bai Jin watched as she headed toward the balcony.
She watched Lu Huan slide open the glass door, step out, and pull it shut behind her, sealing off the balcony from the living room.
It was still all wrong.
No matter what she did, she always ended up making Sister angry…
Bai Jin made her way to the kitchen and poured hot water into a glass.
But wasn’t this the right way?
Why not?
Why?
“……”
Dusk had blurred into night, the sky’s inky darkness deepening. A bright crescent moon hung above, but no stars dotted the heavens.
The autumn wind stripped the leaves from the trees with a rustle, leaving only bare, withered branches behind.
Moonlight cast the shadows of the skeletal trees across the ground.
The night breeze was cool against her face, sharpening her senses.
Stray locks of hair lifted by the wind brushed across her cheek as Lu Huan braced her hands on the balcony railing, gazing faintly down at the pitch-black view below.
Her phone buzzed with a message from property management: a special situation had caused a delay of another half hour or so.
Lu Huan typed a quick reply, switched off the screen, and lowered her head wearily, letting strands of hair fall beside her ears.
She truly had no idea what was going through Bai Jin’s head.
She thought back slowly to those three days—to the words Bai Jin had let slip after revealing her true nature, words so at odds with her outward appearance.
Twisted and obsessive: that was the only way Lu Huan could describe them.
In her own view, the things she’d done to Bai Jin as a child should have been enough to make her seethe with hatred. After all, Lu Huan had spent years scheming to drive her away, bullying her without mercy or restraint.
Without Lu Huan’s constant obstruction and spite, Qin Dian’s favoritism alone would have ensured Bai Jin at least a happy childhood.
But Lu Huan had tormented her throughout it.
And yet, Bai Jin hadn’t come to hate her—not even a little.
She had fallen in love instead.
Lu Huan couldn’t fathom what Bai Jin saw in her.
That night, Bai Jin had confessed that she loved the “rotten good heart” beneath Lu Huan’s skin.
It had all stemmed from the calligraphy class incident, when Lu Huan had plotted to frame her but faltered at the last moment, unable to cross that line in her own conscience.
And yet, no matter how she looked at it, Lu Huan had been the one to start the harm.
Wouldn’t any normal person hate her for that? She had been the instigator, after all.
How could Bai Jin possibly find it intriguing—enough to inspire love?
The thought made Lu Huan close her eyes and pinch the bridge of her nose.
Would any normal person even think that way?
No.
Bai Jin’s obsessive mindset, her actions—they were beyond what any rational person could conceive or carry out.
The realization settled over Lu Huan like a weight. She stopped rubbing her brow, her gaze darkening.
Was it because she’d grown up in such an unhealthy environment?
From the snippets of her past that Bai Jin had shared, Lu Huan could sense her family had been deeply unhappy.
Her father had been emotionally volatile, prone to fits of rage. Her mother, desperate to hold the family together, had endured and forgiven him time and again, convincing herself it would give their child a complete home.
On top of that, both parents had been too busy to offer much care. And before Bai Jin had even turned eight, they had both passed away.
Ever since their first meeting, Lu Huan had known Bai Jin for a quiet girl with cold eyes. She’d chalked it up to an aloof personality back then—but now it all made sense.
The influence of one’s family and upbringing couldn’t be ignored.
A sudden crash of shattering glass from the living room snapped Lu Huan out of her reverie.
She straightened up, glanced back, slid open the door, and walked inside.
Moonlight spilled through the gap. In the dim room, she could make out rough outlines.
The kitchen’s glass door stood ajar, revealing a figure crouched on the floor. Given the sound she’d heard, it was likely something had been knocked over by accident.
Lu Huan glanced over before looking away, her tone cool. “If you broke something, grab the broom. Don’t be stupid enough to pick it up with your hands.”
Don’t pull the same stunt as last time.
Back at the company, she’d smashed a glass too—cut her palm to shreds and made a huge mess. In the end, Lu Huan had been the one to bandage her up.
With that dark thought, Lu Huan sank back onto the sofa, intending to wait for the repairman.
But silence followed—no further sounds.
Bai Jin didn’t rise. She simply stayed crouched there, motionless.
Lu Huan frowned slightly, unsure what she was up to.
She said nothing, made no move to check—just sat there on the sofa.
Until faint sobs reached her ears, accompanied by the sharp tang of blood in the air.
A chill unease rose in her chest.
Lu Huan shot to her feet and hurried to the kitchen doorway.
Only then did she see that Bai Jin wasn’t crouching—she was kneeling on the floor.
Strands of hair hung down, veiling her face and hiding her expression.
In her hand, she clutched a shard of glass pressed against her arm. In the faint moonlight, dark liquid stained her skin.
The dark rivulets seeped from her arm and hand, dripping onto the floor to mingle with the broken glass.
Lu Huan’s pupils contracted sharply. “You—”
“Why…?” Bai Jin’s brows knit together as tears spilled down her face like beads on a broken string, falling without control.
“Isn’t sex a form of love?”
The blood from the wound trickled along her arm, over her fingertips, and into the mess on the floor.
Her voice brimmed with confusion and sorrow.
“I always thought that if there was sex… there had to be love too.”
“The heart grows on the body. Once you have a body, a heart will come in time.”
“But why isn’t reality like that…?”
Lu Huan’s feet rooted her to the spot.
No, it wasn’t. Reality couldn’t possibly be like that.
Bai Jin didn’t stop her self-mutilation. The shards dug even deeper into her hand. If the light had been brighter, the sight would have been utterly horrifying.
Just like when she was a child.
On the night before she left the Lu Family, blood had soaked the pristine white tiles, her entire body resembling a wilted blood flower, defeated amid the darkness.
As the scene grew more uncontrollable, Lu Huan walked over and crouched down in front of her.
“Put it down first.”
Bai Jin couldn’t hear a word, nor did she feel any pain. Her gaze fixed on the floor. “It’s my fault. I’m always like this.”
“It’s all because I did something wrong…”
She gripped the sharp object too tightly. Lu Huan didn’t dare yank it away, afraid it would tear the wound even wider or accidentally injure her.
The metallic tang of blood grew thicker in the air, and she was still crying.
Lu Huan clenched her fists, then leaned in closer.
“It’s my fault…” Bai Jin’s voice trembled with sobs. In the next moment, she was enveloped in warmth.
Lu Huan said nothing. She pulled Bai Jin into her arms, one hand gently stroking the back of her head to soothe her.
Bai Jin’s tears soaked the fabric of Lu Huan’s shirt at the shoulder.
Lu Huan could feel the dampness there, along with her warmth.
In that embrace, Bai Jin’s churning emotions gradually settled. Her shuddering sobs weakened and faded away.
Once the tension left her body and the violent trembling stopped, Lu Huan let out a sigh and extended her hand.
“Can you give it to me now?”
