Chapter 26

She didn’t know whether Eldest Miss He would regret it someday.

The voice wasn’t too loud or too soft, just clear enough to enter her ears. But once it did, Yuan Miu felt a buzz in her mind, as memories crashed over her like towering waves.

That day, it had been the same. She had lain there in some place, her clothes torn and disheveled. Someone had covered her eyes, someone else had clamped her ankles, and others had laughed mockingly, repeating over and over: “You want to escape? You really think you can escape? Where do you think you’re going…?”

“I can help you leave.” Those words had once carried all her hopes, but in that moment, they turned into a dagger, severing her last shred of illusion. There was no way out, no distant horizon. The cage was welded shut. Escaping anywhere would just replay the nightmare. It was better to stay put and die quickly and quietly.

The scene replayed in her mind, sending a chill surging through her body. Suddenly, her limbs drew tight, and she hugged herself, curling into the most defensive posture she could manage. Doctor Che was startled and tried to hold her legs to keep her from falling, but she met with even fiercer resistance.

Yuan Miu kicked at the examination chair and couldn’t hold back a shout. “I won’t believe you people again! I won’t fall for it anymore!”

Doctor Che pulled back the curtain, and emotion finally flickered in her calm eyes. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Yuan Miu hugged herself tighter and backed away. She wanted to roll off the bed, but Doctor Che stepped forward and reached out to hold her shoulders.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. Please tell me, did something happen before?”

Seduction, confinement, touching, abandonment… What do you think happened?

Yuan Miu struggled free and fled to the corner. She quickly pulled on her clothes, dodged around Doctor Che, and bolted out the door. She even forgot to put on her mask and hat properly, leaving her messy hair to hang crookedly over her face.

Before entering the house, she took care to tidy herself up. In her hands, she carried celery and broccoli she’d bought along the way. The wide brim of her sun hat cast a shadow over her brow, and with only the lower half of her cold face visible, she hid all her emotions.

Luo Zi had left breakfast for her and lingered by the table like she was waiting for praise before getting back to work. But Yuan Miu remained silent, chewing her plain toast like it was tasteless wax. Her cheeks bulged with each bite, but her expression never changed.

Luo Zi thought to herself, this is bad. Did the checkup reveal something wrong?

“Miu Miu, what did the doctor say at the hospital today?”

Yuan Miu’s eyes finally shifted, landing on Luo Zi. It was like seeing a copper bell—once it rang, it yanked her soul back from the underworld.

“Don’t go to the hospital in Fallen Leaf Community anymore. Go somewhere else.”

“Ah? What’s wrong with that place?”

“The doctor there has issues. She’ll tell you she can help you, get you out of here. She’s probably connected to some shady trading spots. Don’t go!”

Luo Zi froze in place, digesting the news. She hesitated before speaking.

“Ah… which department is that doctor in? What does she look like? So I can avoid her from now on…”

…

In the gynecology exam room, Doctor Che went about her normal shift. Two days ago, a patient had fled from her chair in a panic, looking ready to file a complaint with the medical affairs office. Doctor Che felt a bit uneasy in the exam room, worried that the next person through the door wouldn’t be a patient but some inquiring superior.

She’d spent the previous day on edge, but nothing had happened, which eased her anxiety somewhat. Today, though, her nerves were jittery again—and they weren’t wrong. This time, the person who walked in wasn’t a patient.

Standing before her was a girl about Yuan Miu’s age, but shorter, with a rounder skull. While Yuan Miu had been all muted grays yesterday, this girl had a bit of brightness to her—like a cigarette butt just tossed on the ground, not yet stamped out, still flickering with tiny sparks amid the ash.

“Excuse me, can you help me leave?”

Doctor Che had just pulled on her gloves, and the latex snapped against her wrist with a sharp pop, stinging a little.

“I can help you with an exam. You can leave on your own afterward.”

“No,” Luo Zi clutched her bag to her chest. “I mean leave this city, leave here!”

Doctor Che sat on the edge of the exam chair and turned her face away to adjust the instruments. “Then I think you came to the wrong place. This isn’t a travel agency.”

“I didn’t come to the wrong place. You saw a girl named Yuan Miu yesterday, right?”

Doctor Che said nothing. Luo Zi stepped forward, closing the distance to show her sincerity through her openness.

“I’m her companion. I want to leave.”

Doctor Che looked up. The room’s bright lights bathed them in a clear, pristine white—cold and stark, matching her professional attire with no warmth in sight. But the pink trim on Luo Zi’s skirt softened the light, making it dance around the room and warming the chilly air just a touch.

“Your companion wasn’t in good shape yesterday.”

“Yes, she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Has she been through something bad before?” Doctor Che probed.

Luo Zi shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“She doesn’t trust me. Did she send you?”

“No, I came on my own.”

Doctor Che stopped what she was doing entirely. The “patient” in front of her didn’t need an exam at all—she wanted a real conversation.

“You trust me?”

Luo Zi stood there, noncommittal. The person she trusted most right now was Yuan Miu. They were both Sern people, both backed into a dead end—and Yuan Miu was even closer to it. She wouldn’t harm her, and she couldn’t anyway.

Yuan Miu had warned her not to come back to this hospital, that the doctor was a middleman for some shady spot. Of course Luo Zi was scared. But amid the fear was a desperate flicker of hope—what if? What if it was that one-in-a-million chance?

Like before, when she’d stumbled into a company with a “use every resource” policy—two days on, five off, working twenty hours and resting five. She’d clung to that “what if” and slacked off completely. Right before they shipped her to the Labor Training Camp, an old man had picked her out and kept her at home. At least it was a lifeline.

That “what if” had paid off once. Could it happen again?

“To be honest, I don’t fully trust you. But how much worse could it get?”

She was already half-dead anyway. Might as well gamble with half a life and see if she could scrape together a real one.

“Alright.” Doctor Che gestured for her to sit across from her. Her voice grew firm again, just as it had with Yuan Miu two days ago. “Now, listen carefully to what I say!”

…

Wen Du was quite surprised to hear about Yuan Miu. In her expectations, things should have gone smoothly, but this snag had thrown everything off.

“She said ‘I won’t believe you people again’? Could there be another organization trying rescues too—one that botched it and ended up hurting her?”

Xia Lie perched casually on a high stool. Wen Du sipped her coffee while Xia Lie trimmed the branches and leaves, accompanied by piano or violin music. The petty-bourgeois vibe was dialed up to eleven.

“The investigation files don’t show any similar experiences for her. That’s strange.”

“In any case, her reaction was abnormal. We need to stay alert. The worst case is that the authorities have caught on to us and are disguising themselves as us to test regular Sern people, trying to ferret out our operations and locations.”

Xia Lie set the trimmed blue enchantress rose on the table and picked up another. By now, it was a conditioned reflex—any meeting with Wen Du meant flower trimming. The disguise covered every detail, even fooling the shop staff. She was ruthless enough to deceive her own people if needed.

“You’re right. But so far, no other members have reported anything similar. I’ll tell everyone to keep their eyes open, just in case.” Xia Lie paused and changed the subject. “Though Yuan Miu refused to trust us, her companion Luo Zi came knocking on her own, asking for help.”

Wen Du was always cautious. After the hiccup with Yuan Miu, she couldn’t help worrying. “Logically, Yuan Miu would have warned her. This girl’s behavior is a bit off too.”

“True, but the Fallen Leaf Community line will vet it carefully. They won’t act unless it’s clear.”

Wen Du hadn’t added milk to her coffee today—just pure black, its bitterness challenging her taste buds and sharpening her nerves. There had been too many surprises lately; she needed to keep her senses at peak.

“By the way, any news from the Kangman side?”

“Yes, everything’s going smoothly. If nothing goes wrong, the tour bus will be up and running soon—from Yecheng’s central square, across the border, all the way to Morning Hope Park in North County.”

“Next week already…” Wen Du spoke with precise enunciation, but the coffee’s bitterness flattened half her words as it hit her throat. “Looks like I need to meet with Duo Lin.”

The delegation visit last time hadn’t given them a chance to transfer her successfully. They couldn’t fail again this time, could they?

…

The atmosphere in Miss He’s family villa felt strangely off the moment Wen Du arrived.

He Lilin had set up a gourmet gathering in the backyard, with limited-edition afternoon tea spreads covering the round table. The parasols were perfectly pitched—blocking the sun’s glare while letting the nobles beneath enjoy the spring scenery.

Miss He hadn’t invited anyone else, just the esteemed Teacher Wen. Not even Old Master He or Madam got this honor of sharing afternoon tea with her.

Wen Du gladly accepted, of course not for the food. Her gaze lingered between the large-flowered larkspur and the ice-edge forget-me-not, using the moment to scan the pavilion and catch glimpses of the people inside.

Duo Lin and A Bin had just prepared the desserts and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice mixed with carrot—tart yet sweet, its color softened to a gentle pale hue.

Duo Lin carried it out on a tray to the center of the courtyard. As she bent forward, Wen Du reached out to take it, responding politely. “Thank you.”

This wouldn’t raise suspicions. After all, most Homer speakers firmly believed their innate refinement ran in their blood. Though a cut above Sern people, they could still afford to be polite and gracious—a bestowed favor, beyond reproach.

One glass remained on the tray, for He Lilin. But she didn’t spare it a glance, too absorbed in watching the koi in the pond.

Duo Lin understood. She was to serve attentively, delivering it herself—how could she make the eldest miss lift a delicate finger?

“Miss, your juice.” Duo Lin bowed at the waist, her voice soft as silk.

He Lilin approved of the service and finally turned her chin. In a good mood today, she even tossed out praise. “You’re getting better at following the rules lately!”

Duo Lin’s lips curved up, her rarely used smile muscles coming alive. She had a natural talent for it—any grin bloomed bright and radiant.

“Of course, it’s thanks to your guidance!”

“Go on after delivering that. Don’t interrupt my chat with Teacher Wen.”

“Yes, Miss. Just call if you need anything else.”

Wen Du’s gaze grew suspicious as it landed on her. What was up with Duo Lin? Why was she so deferential to He Lilin now?

He Lilin turned to Wen Du and spoke again. “Teacher, this is my caramel pudding. Try it.”

The pudding sat in a white porcelain cup, the egg and milk blended to a pale yellow, topped with a caramelized layer like the sweet core of a roasted sweet potato. At first glance, it looked like a signature dessert from a fancy shop.

Wen Du knew He Lilin was arrogant and spoiled—cooking? Forget it; even picking up food required servants. A finicky dessert like this was definitely not her handiwork.

The pudding was excellent. Cracking through the caramel shell, the creamy interior melted on the tongue, sweetness flooding her mouth. Wen Du had endured bitter coffee the day before and had lost her taste for sweets, but this little treat warmed her up, even stirring her thoughts.

“It’s delicious. My prized student is so talented.”

“I’m glad Teacher Wen likes it. Next time I try something new, you’ll be the first to taste it.”

Wen Du finished her cup and set down the silver spoon. “It would be my honor.”

They ate and chatted. Wen Du took small bites of the treats but drank all her juice. Midway through, she seized the moment. “Which restroom is closest from here?”

He Lilin, true to her “lazy by nature” form, waved Duo Lin over. “Take Teacher Wen to the nearest one. Stay with her and see to any needs.”

Inside the villa, Wen Du finally had a chance to be alone with Duo Lin. But she didn’t dare speak rashly, fearing listeners. Only after emerging from the restroom, as they stood at the back door, did she start talking.

“Teacher Wen, don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Wen Du took the hot towel Duo Lin offered and glanced at the forget-me-nots along the wall, their blooms dotted like rare flecks of white in the yard.

“Good to know you’re alright. Hold on just a bit longer. We’ll get you out soon.”

“No need, thank you.” Duo Lin kept her eyes downcast, lashes shadowing her lids, utterly respectful.

Wen Du glanced back at her, then quickly looked away. “What’s wrong?”

Was she scared? Unwilling to take more risks?

“Teacher Wen, I don’t want to leave now.”

“You’re in great danger here. You know better than I do who He Lilin is.” To buy time for the talk, Wen Du slowly wiped her fingers. The warmth spread to her fingertips before fading.

Duo Lin’s position was precarious. Even if Lan Zhijing let her slide, He De wouldn’t. As head of the Wei Investigation Institute, how could he tolerate a Sern person lingering by his daughter—and one she relied on so heavily?

Duo Lin’s downfall was inevitable. This stroke of luck had only bought time. Wen Du wanted to whisk her away before disaster struck.

“I know it’s dangerous. That’s exactly why I want to stay. Your situation is even riskier. Haven’t you thought about leaving yourself?”

Wen Du gripped the towel tighter, her knuckles whitening. Suddenly, she understood what Duo Lin meant.

“I used to dream of escaping, but I never could. Now I’ve figured it out. I’m not running. I’m staying. He Lilin’s side is dangerous, but that’s what makes it valuable. She may not be directly involved in politics, but lurking near her, I can gather useful intel. I can help you get other Sern kin out!”

Wen Du grew afraid hearing Duo Lin’s earnest words. Once that mindset took root, it was unshakable—an obsession burrowing into the brain. Deliver one, then two, three, four… Teetering daily between life and death’s abyss, endless, like a guide ghost with no home of her own, forever trying to send others back to theirs.

No response came, so Duo Lin sensed Wen Du’s lingering worry. She stepped closer and whispered reassurance. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. He Lilin won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be careful from now on—I know my limits. If things turn really bad, I’ll contact you and leave.”

She said that, but in her heart, Duo Lin had already resolved herself. From today on, she’d obey He Lilin’s every command and never set foot outside the He Family. She would stay, witness its destruction—even this city’s if it came to that.

—Since she couldn’t escape hell, better to stay in it, dragging the demons down with her, leaving a bit of peace for the world above!

In the courtyard’s center, with Wen Du gone, He Lilin grew bored. She tilted her head back, studying the parasol’s patterns and the sunlight’s textures. The motion highlighted her slender neck amid her deep gray hair, like a handful of auspicious snow hidden there.

From afar, Duo Lin watched and found it strangely captivating: sunlight, flowers, porcelain bowls, a beauty—like an oil painting, beautiful enough to savor, then tear to shreds and scatter to the winds.

She didn’t know if Miss He would regret it someday—insisting on keeping her by her side.