In the recurring darkness of the day, this was not the first time Xu Yinian had been alone with another woman in such a cramped space. However, the physical reaction she felt now—a trembling that climbed until it felt like suffocation—was unprecedented.
She was afraid, but it wasn’t purely fear. There were other emotions, things Xu Yinian didn’t quite understand but felt were dangerous enough to swallow her whole.
It was obvious. From the moment she had first laid eyes on Shen Ruoshuang today, she had been off-kilter. How could she possibly withstand this overwhelming, pervasive presence now? The only thing being reaffirmed was just how special Shen Ruoshuang was to her.
At the very least, her body’s reaction didn’t lie.
In her dazed state, the teasing lilt in Shen Ruoshuang’s voice acted as a catalyst, pulling Xu Yinian deeper into the abyss. With just a few words, waves of heat surged across Xu Yinian’s cheeks.
On one hand, there was shock and shame. How could the cold, aloof Shen Ruoshuang… say such things?
On the other hand, her unspeakable emotions were easily stirred. Even Shen Ruoshuang’s cold irony and quiet scoff were enough to make her heart race. The darkness she had feared became her only protection; if Shen Ruoshuang could see her disheveled state right now, any lies or stubborn denials would crumble instantly.
At the mention of “last night,” a flicker of panicked distraction crossed Xu Yinian’s eyes.
She remembered now. It had started with her being drunk, clinging to Shen Ruoshuang and begging for… everything. Those seemingly cold, persistent prompts from Shen Ruoshuang had actually been filled with an excessive, predatory desire.
Back then, she had been too drunk to know shame. She had been coaxed and intimidated into following Shen Ruoshuang’s lead, satisfying the culprit’s every boundary-crossing whim.
But she… she was sober now.
Xu Yinian finally realized that Shen Ruoshuang wouldn’t let her forget. For the other woman, once a line was crossed, there was no room for regret. Their tangled words and actions had long since torn away the hazy veil of “ambiguity.”
Aside from being forced to continue sinking into this chaotic descent, Xu Yinian had no way out.
“I… I don’t remember anything about last night,” Xu Yinian stammered. Her voice was hoarse and trembling. It was a baseless lie that couldn’t even convince herself. But what else could she do? If she didn’t grasp at this useless straw, was she supposed to just offer herself up to Shen Ruoshuang?
This weak attempt at a struggle within her grasp seemed to amuse Shen Ruoshuang. Since Xu Yinian wanted to play the role of the amnesiac, Shen Ruoshuang was more than happy to indulge her in this clumsy performance.
“Your body will remember,” Shen Ruoshuang whispered. “After all, it’s much more honest than you are. Or would you prefer I help you remember?”
Compared to her previous insolence, Shen Ruoshuang’s sudden display of infinite patience didn’t make Xu Yinian feel any better. It felt like a slow, agonizing execution. Shen Ruoshuang’s anger and obsession were never loud; she preferred to let her victim learn their lesson through “punishments” that sank deep into the marrow.
The angrier she was, the more terrifyingly quiet and stubborn she became.
And unlike Ji Yan, who often teased just to get a reaction, Shen Ruoshuang was a woman of her word. When she wanted something, she was calculating—moving piece by piece until victory was hers. Whether it was sharing a dormitory, taking the same elective course, or orchestrating today so that Xu Yinian had no choice but to pick her… Shen Ruoshuang only ever wanted one thing.
Xu Yinian didn’t dare think about it. It was as if by refusing to touch that taboo, she could escape the trap that had been set long ago.
So, when Shen Ruoshuang offered to “help her remember,” Xu Yinian didn’t doubt her for a second. She was certain the woman would reenact every shameful moment of the previous night right here, in this public “Secret Room.”
She shook her head instinctively before realizing Shen Ruoshuang couldn’t see her in the dark.
“I don’t… I don’t want to…” she whimpered, her voice soft and fragile.
Before she could finish her refusal, two cold fingers pressed against her lips, sealing the rest of her words.
“You can’t even speak clearly. Does this sound like someone who doesn’t want to?” Shen Ruoshuang said tonelessly. “Lie again, and I won’t use my hand to keep you quiet.”
Xu Yinian truly believed her physical reactions had betrayed her. Her entire body stiffened with guilt. The cool pads of Shen Ruoshuang’s fingers brushed over her jaw with a cold, clinical pressure, as if she were performing a routine inspection.
Xu Yinian tried to turn her face away to hide, but the hand firmly caught her chin.
“Don’t move.” Shen Ruoshuang had no intention of being gentle today.
“Mph—” Xu Yinian couldn’t help but let out a muffled whimper, hoping to evoke some pity.
Forced to tilt her head up, she looked toward Shen Ruoshuang like a helpless puppy, seeing nothing but the void. Gradually, a blurred shadow flickered in her vision; she realized it was only the reflection of the tears welling in her own eyes.
She didn’t know what the woman was going to do, and she didn’t dare open her mouth to refuse. Those fingertips were too close, and they clearly had ulterior motives. She could only keep her teeth clenched tight, as if that were her final line of defense.
Shen Ruoshuang felt her rigid, defensive posture—the way she was using every ounce of her meager courage to protect herself despite being terrified. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of dark amusement shimmering in the shadows.
Shen Ruoshuang was obsessed with everything about Xu Yinian—the parts she could see and the parts she couldn’t, the parts that accepted her and the parts that tried to run away. All of it pulled at her senses.
“Why are you clenching your teeth so hard? Haven’t you ever seen a dentist?”
I’m not at the dentist, so of course I’m clenching them!
Xu Yinian held her breath. In a rare moment of sharpness, she guessed Shen Ruoshuang was trying to bait her into speaking. She remained silent, glaring at the woman who was inches away. Even without sight, her mind instinctively traced the woman’s exquisite features—the perfect blend of softness and sharp, cold elegance.
…When had she become so familiar with Shen Ruoshuang’s face?
She subconsciously pursed her lips, only to realize she had brushed against those cold fingers. Her expression changed instantly. She had forgotten!
Her lips pressed against the knuckle, feeling almost like a kiss. Xu Yinian was dazed, caught in an awkward position where she couldn’t pull away or relax.
In the darkness, she couldn’t see the depth of the desire in Shen Ruoshuang’s peach-blossom eyes.
The stalemate lasted too long. Afraid she might actually do something embarrassing if this continued, Xu Yinian forced out a few fragmented sounds through her gritted teeth.
“Mmph… saliva… I need to…”
Before Shen Ruoshuang could respond, Ji Yan—who had been listening intently outside the door—could no longer contain herself.
Shen Ruoshuang had intentionally stayed close to the door, effectively “broadcasting” the encounter to those outside. To the girls on the other side of the thin barrier, it was as if they were in the room with them. The sounds of movement and the ragged, hurried breathing had already made Ji Yan and Lu Zhou’s expressions turn deathly pale.
Then came Xu Yinian’s muffled plea. The first half was lost, leaving only a few fragmented words that sounded entirely wrong when delivered in that soft, breathless voice.
“What are you doing to her?” Ji Yan demanded, her voice simmering with rage. She glared at the door. It was a thin thing; kicking it down wouldn’t be an issue. But based on the sounds, Xu Yinian was likely pinned against the frame by Shen Ruoshuang. Forcing the door could seriously injure her.
Damn it! she cursed internally.
Xu Yinian had almost forgotten the others were right outside. She was so terrified she barely breathed.
“Tell the truth, and I’ll stop,” Shen Ruoshuang said, ignoring the fury from the hallway. She stared at Xu Yinian in the dark as if she could see every detail of her face. “Ji Yan and Lu Zhou are just tools for you to complete your task, aren’t they?”
She dropped this bombshell with clinical indifference.
Lu Zhou? Complete a task?
Ji Yan’s expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions before settling into a dark, shadowy gloom. “What task?”
“You little heartless thing,” Shen Ruoshuang murmured. “You didn’t even tell them about your task? Were you planning to just use them and run?”
At this point, Ji Yan and Lu Zhou could both guess: Xu Yinian’s task was likely to “infect” three people. Ji Yan didn’t even have the heart to question Lu Zhou about when she had touched Xu Yinian; she was too desperate to hear Xu Yinian’s answer.
Xu Yinian was still at Shen Ruoshuang’s mercy. She couldn’t even speak clearly—how could she dare provoke the woman further?
This wasn’t just about telling the “truth.” Shen Ruoshuang wanted to hear something that would please her. Besides, other than using the “task” as an excuse for the boundary-crossing behavior, what was she supposed to say? That she had wanted it?
“…Yes. Because of… the task.”
The way she struggled to get the words out happened to mask the sheer panic in her voice.
As soon as the word “task” was uttered, everything became clear to Ji Yan and Lu Zhou.
Hah. Not only were they just tools for a mission, they had been the ones to proactively throw themselves at her!
Xu Yinian hadn’t told them anything about the task, yet Shen Ruoshuang knew. Had Niannian gone to her specifically to beg for help? Was this another instance of Shen Ruoshuang receiving “special treatment”?
Lu Zhou looked at Ji Yan, who looked like a thunderstorm about to break. Recalling how Shen Ruoshuang had just exposed her own secrets, Lu Zhou’s heart sank.
Before Ji Yan could explode, they heard Shen Ruoshuang ask another question.
“Then why did you want to come to me?”
Xu Yinian’s mind began to hum. Last time, when Shen Ruoshuang had asked ‘Is it because of me?’, she had fled without giving an answer.
This time, in a situation where she could no longer run, Shen Ruoshuang had cleverly rephrased the question. She didn’t want a “yes” or “no.” She wanted Xu Yinian to say it in full, even if it was just to coax her.
In the pitch-black silence, a long pause stretched out. Finally, a blurred voice spoke—a murmur so low it seemed meant only for herself. But Shen Ruoshuang, feeling the movement of her lips against her fingers, heard it clearly.
“The moment you said… ‘come here’… I became biased.”
