Chapter 20: I Don’t Like Any Bullying Except Linlin’s…

“Are you the strongest bully…?”

“Ha… Hahaha!”

Lin Zhizhi bared her teeth in a dry laugh at first. The motion pulled at her injuries, making the corner of her mouth twitch.

“The strongest? Of course I am!”

She stiffened her neck, her eyes burning with a flame that refused to die, along with the crazed recklessness of someone whose dignity had been completely crushed.

“The number of people I’ve beaten could line up from here all the way to the school gates! Who the hell do you think you are? You’re nothing but a cheap whore! If you’ve got the guts, untie me and we’ll settle this fair and—”

She couldn’t finish.

Xiran didn’t even move.

But Lin Zhizhi’s throat was suddenly seized by an invisible hand. 

All her curses turned into hoarse choking sounds.

Her eyes bulged. Her face turned purple. Her left hand clawed desperately at her neck, touching nothing.

A few seconds later, the force released.

Lin Zhizhi gasped for air, coughing violently. Tears and snot flowed together.

“It seems,” Xiran took half a step forward. Moonlight illuminated one side of her cheek while the other half remained hidden in shadow, “you need a more direct ‘reminder.'”

Xiran didn’t rush to act.

She simply watched Lin Zhizhi quietly, her gaze like someone looking at livestock ready for slaughter—or a dirty old object that wasn’t worth repairing.

“You claim you’re the strongest bully.” Her voice was soft. “Then you must really enjoy the feeling of ‘being bullied,’ right?”

Before Lin Zhizhi could even process the meaning of those words, her body already gave the answer.

—No contact. No warning.

It felt as if someone had taken a red-hot iron rod and driven it up her spine, one vertebra at a time.

Before Lin Zhizhi’s scream could escape her throat, the second wave of “stabbing pain” exploded through every limb and bone in her body.

It wasn’t simple pain.

It was the sensation of ice water being poured into her marrow while being boiled alive by raging flames. Every nerve screamed. 

Every inch of skin burned in hallucination.

She wanted to struggle, but the ropes held her too tightly.

She wanted to pass out, but some force kept her consciousness pinned firmly in the abyss of awareness.

“This is the first layer.” 

Xiran’s voice came from somewhere far away, yet also echoed directly inside her mind. 

“Bullies usually make their victims ‘fully conscious’ while enduring everything, right?”

Linlin stood to the side, frozen like a statue.

She had seen Xiran angry before. She had experienced Xiran’s terrifying “punishments”—but looking back now, those punishments carried a strange kind of twisted “gentleness.”

At least Xiran had never done anything like this to her.

She had never forced her to experience the concrete embodiment of fear while remaining fully awake.

Lin Zhizhi’s screams turned into wails, and her wails crumbled into broken sobs.

Xiran watched like someone observing a boring rainfall, her expression barely changing.

“Second layer.” 

She spoke indifferently. “Is the stripping of dignity.”

This time, the invisible force didn’t touch Lin Zhizhi’s body.

But the sensation was clearer—and far more terrifying.

She felt her hair being yanked by unseen hands, forcing her head back. 

She felt invisible slaps landing on her face one after another. 

Even though there was no physical contact, the sound and the humiliation felt more devastating than real slaps.

“When you hit others, do you like doing it like this?”

There was even a hint of curiosity in Xiran’s tone.

“Making them look up at you? Forcing them to stare at your arrogant, superior face?”

Lin Zhizhi shook her head desperately. Tears and snot flowed into her mouth—salty and metallic.

She wanted to say “I didn’t” and “it wasn’t me,” but her tongue felt nailed in place. Not a single word could escape.

“Third layer.”

Xiran’s voice remained calm—calm enough to make one’s scalp tingle.

“Is loneliness.”

Suddenly, everything went black before Lin Zhizhi’s eyes.

It wasn’t the darkness of closed eyes. 

It was the kind of darkness where the entire world was stripped away, leaving only herself floating in nothingness.

No sound. No light. No temperature. No sensation.

She couldn’t even feel her own body.

Only her consciousness, drifting alone in endless darkness.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Lin Zhizhi didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been seconds or centuries.

She tried to scream but made no sound. She tried to struggle but couldn’t find her limbs. 

She began to break down, but even the feeling of breaking down felt separated by thick glass.

Then, light returned.

Sound returned.

The pain of ropes digging into flesh returned.

Lin Zhizhi gasped heavily, her entire body soaked as if pulled from water. 

It was impossible to tell whether the wetness on her face was sweat or tears.

She looked at Xiran, her lips trembling, but no words came out.

Xiran watched her quietly.

“Fourth layer,” she paused. “Is hope.”

The invisible force released.

The ropes were still there, but the oppressive pressure had vanished.

Lin Zhizhi froze for a few seconds, then began twisting her body frantically, trying to break free.

The ropes only tightened further, making her grimace in pain. 

But that long-lost feeling of “maybe I can escape” nearly brought her to tears of joy.

She struggled and struggled—

The ropes didn’t budge.

She stopped, panting heavily. The hope that had just sparked in her eyes slowly turned into despair.

“Make them think they can escape,” Xiran’s voice drifted softly. 

“Then watch them give everything they have, only to realize it was all in vain.”

“This is probably another part bullies enjoy, right?”

Lin Zhizhi’s tears finally poured out uncontrollably.

She stopped struggling. She stopped cursing. She simply slumped there, crying silently.

Her lips moved as if trying to say something.

Xiran took a step closer.

“What?”

“…I’m not…” Lin Zhizhi’s voice was hoarse like sandpaper scraping glass. “I’m not… the strongest…”

“I’m just… just a piece of trash…”

She closed her eyes. 

Tears slid from the corners, mixing with the dirt on her face and sparkling under the moonlight.

Xiran watched her in silence for a few seconds.

Then she turned her head and looked toward Linlin.

Linlin’s entire body stiffened.

But there was no cold scrutiny in Xiran’s eyes, no hair-raising “appraisal.”

Instead, it was something complex and indescribable.

Like confirmation.

Like showing off.

Like saying: See? I’m only different with you.

Linlin’s heart skipped a beat under that gaze, then skipped again for no reason at all.

She hurriedly looked away, pretending to focus on the limp, mud-like Lin Zhizhi.

Lin Zhizhi truly looked miserable right now.

Her mouth was split, her lips swollen, and several teeth were missing. Her whole body was drenched in sweat and blood. 

Her hair stuck to her face, and her eyes were as empty as a dried-up well.

She no longer looked like a teenage girl. She looked like an old woman who had been drained of all vitality after years of suffering.

“Let me confirm one last time.” Xiran’s voice rang out again. “Are you the strongest bully?”

Lin Zhizhi trembled violently.

She slowly rolled her eyes and focused on Xiran’s face.

There was no more defiance, madness, or unwillingness left in that gaze.

Only bottomless terror and a hollow resignation.

She opened her mouth. Her swollen, gap-toothed lips moved a few times before producing a blurry, hoarse voice that was barely audible:

“I… am not…”

She sniffled. A bit of bloody saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth.

“I am not… the strongest… bully…”

Every word was spoken with extreme difficulty, as if using up her last bit of strength.

“I… am just trash.”

After speaking, she closed her eyes, as if she no longer had the energy to even maintain eye contact.

Hearing this answer, a very faint, almost satisfied expression finally appeared on Xiran’s face.

She nodded gently.

“Good.”

At this moment, that single word sounded more chilling than any threat.

Lin Zhizhi’s closed eyelids twitched.

She didn’t dare open her eyes. Using that leaky, muffled voice filled with sobs and pleading, she hurriedly added:

“Please… I beg you… Xiran-sama…”

“This lowly one… this lowly one will never… dare to do it again… I absolutely… absolutely won’t… bully anyone anymore…”

“Really… please spare me…”

She had even changed how she referred to herself.

Xiran quietly observed her current pathetic, dirt-like state. She seemed to find it rather interesting.

After thinking for a moment, she spoke slowly.

“Alright. Then listen carefully.”

Lin Zhizhi immediately held her breath, concentrating with all her might.

“The fact that I let Linlin ‘bully’ me,” Xiran spoke each word deliberately, making sure every syllable drilled clearly into Lin Zhizhi’s ears, “you are not allowed to tell anyone. Anyone. Do you understand?”

Lin Zhizhi nodded desperately as if granted amnesty, not even caring that the ropes tightened further around her.

“I-I understand! This lowly one understands! Even if you beat me to death I won’t say anything! I’ll take it to the grave!”

“Mm.” Xiran seemed reasonably satisfied.

Another stretch of silence followed.

Only Lin Zhizhi’s suppressed gasping could be heard.

Suddenly, Lin Zhizhi asked one final question, extremely carefully and weakly.

Her tone didn’t sound like a question. It was more like confused, humble probing.

“Xiran-sama… may this lowly one… ask one last question?”

“Speak.”

“Why… won’t you… let this lowly one… ‘bully’ you?”

Lin Zhizhi struggled to organize her words.

“This lowly one… used to be quite skilled at it… If you need it…”

She genuinely couldn’t understand.

Since Xiran had this kind of preference, why did she specifically choose Bai Linlin—who didn’t seem particularly “professional”—instead of someone like herself, who was more “experienced” and “powerful”?

Xiran fell silent for a few seconds after hearing the question.

For the first time, her gaze left Lin Zhizhi and landed on Bai Linlin, who had been desperately trying to minimize her presence.

That gaze was deep and complicated.

It contained scrutiny, a nearly obsessive focus, and a trace of… indescribable possessiveness.

Then she turned back to the confused and humble Lin Zhizhi and gave her answer.

Her voice was soft, yet carried absolute certainty.

“Because,” she paused, “any ‘bullying’ besides Linlin’s…”

The corner of her mouth curved in an almost imperceptible arc—cold yet satisfied.

“…I don’t like.”