Splash
Warm liquid spilled across the bedsheet with a faint watery sound, quickly soaking into a dark, spreading stain.
Bai Linlin froze completely.
Yes, the shame was real.
But the real reason was the flood of memory images crashing through her mind.
***
She was back.
Back on this bed, back in this dark room, back in Xiran’s arms.
Her breathing was still ragged, her heart still racing, every inch of her skin still pulled tight, but the pain that didn’t belong to “right now” had finally receded.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t dare.
Beneath her was a warm, wet patch that was rapidly cooling, clinging stickily to her skin.
That faint smell began to rise from the sheets.
Bai Linlin bit down hard on her lower lip, eyes stinging red, tears brimming in her lashes. She refused to let them fall.
She couldn’t cry.
What would Xiran do if she cried?
Would she think she was too noisy?
Would she get annoyed?
Would she… start a whole new round of “punishment”?
She fought desperately to hold it in, shoulders trembling faintly, tiny, almost inaudible sobs catching in her throat.
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she kept them wide open, refusing to blink in case they spilled over.
Bai Linlin’s whole body relaxed.
The Xiran behind her had stopped moving.
The hand that had been kneading her earlier had also stilled, resting loosely on her without any pressure.
Bai Linlin didn’t dare turn around.
She stayed exactly as she had been flipped, back pressed to Xiran’s chest, bottom still sitting in the soaked patch of the sheet, not moving a muscle.
The room was terrifyingly quiet.
Only her suppressed, broken little sobs and the occasional wind outside the window broke the silence.
Then—
A voice came from behind her head.
Very close. Right beside her ear.
“Forgive me…”
The words were so soft they might have been blown away by the wind.
Bai Linlin froze.
She even wondered if she had misheard.
Forgive me?
Who was saying “forgive me”?
How could those three words possibly come from Xiran’s mouth?
Her mind went blank. The tears that had been trembling on the edge of her lashes were shocked still by those sudden words.
She didn’t know what to say.
She didn’t know how to react.
She simply stayed rigid, even forgetting to sob.
Xiran… was apologizing?
Apologizing?
Linlin felt like the world had gone insane.
Or maybe she had.
Or maybe this entire night had been one long, absurd nightmare from the very beginning.
She said nothing.
Her mouth opened, a dry, rasping breath escaped, and she closed it again.
What could she possibly say?
“It’s fine”?
No.
Absolutely impossible.
That memory…
Could not be covered up by a single “forgive me.”
It was nowhere near enough.
It would never be enough.
She stayed silent.
The tears finally slipped free, sliding from the corners of her eyes and soaking into the drenched sheet beneath her.
Xiran behind her didn’t speak again either.
The hand that had rested on her chest slowly withdrew and wrapped around her waist.
The grip wasn’t tight this time, nowhere near bone-crushing like before. It simply circled her loosely, as if checking that she was still there.
The other hand came around from her side and gently clasped her clenched fist.
The fingers were cool, but the hold was steady.
Bai Linlin still didn’t move.
She stared at the dark wall in front of her while tears fell silently.
The wetness of the sheet was turning cold, sticking clammily to her bottom and the backs of her thighs. The smell grew stronger.
But she didn’t want to move.
And she couldn’t.
It wasn’t because of magic this time—Xiran hadn’t used any power to restrain her.
She was just… exhausted.
Bone-deep, soul-deep exhaustion.
A very soft, almost inaudible sigh came from behind her.
Then Xiran buried her face into the pink hair at the back of Linlin’s head and took a deep breath.
And so they stayed.
Two people on that soaked bed—one completely naked, having just lost control of herself, crying without making a sound.
The other fully dressed, holding her, no longer making any other moves.
Neither of them spoke again.
She didn’t know how much time passed.
Bai Linlin felt herself being lifted.
It was Xiran.
Her body left the bed, cradled like a child.
Her chin rested on Xiran’s shoulder.
Linlin kept her eyes closed.
She was pretending to sleep.
Lashes tightly shut, breathing light and slow, body limp and heavy against Xiran as if she had truly fallen asleep.
Pretending to sleep was the only coping method she could think of right now.
No need to speak.
No need to face anything.
No need to think about those memories.
Xiran carried her out of the bedroom.
The sound of the door opening.
Then—
Thud.
A soft, muffled impact.
Very light, but Bai Linlin heard it clearly.
It was A’Li.
The little pink fox was still lying motionless on the floor outside the door, held down by Xiran’s magic.
Xiran had kicked it aside with one foot.
Like kicking away a stuffed toy that was in the way.
Bai Linlin’s lashes trembled almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t dare open her eyes.
Xiran carried her onward.
Down the corridor.
Down the stairs.
Then came the humid, warm air mixed with the faint scent of body wash.
The bathroom.
Bai Linlin was set down.
Her bottom met smooth, cool tiles as she was propped against the wall, still in her “asleep” posture.
Whoosh.
The shower head turned on.
Hot water poured down, filling the bathroom with white steam.
Then a pair of warm hands supported her back while another slipped under her knees. She was lifted again and gently placed into the bathtub.
Hot water rose over her body.
From her ankles, to her calves, to her thighs, to her waist, to her chest…
A warm, enveloping sensation.
Bai Linlin still didn’t open her eyes.
She felt Xiran step into the tub behind her, sitting down and pulling her into her arms exactly like she had on the bed.
The hot water kept flowing.
One hand picked up a soft towel and began gently wiping her body.
From her shoulders, to her arms, to her chest, to her waist, to her legs…
The movements were light.
No extra touches.
Just cleaning.
Bai Linlin’s lashes began to tremble again.
Because… this was too strange.
The person who had just been tormenting her was now washing her like a baby.
What the hell was wrong with this world?
Right as her mind spun into chaos—
Boom.
Her brain exploded.
Countless images, countless voices, countless sensations surged out from the depths of her consciousness like a bursting dam!
She wasn’t just “seeing” those memories.
She had “returned” to them.
She was that pink-haired Bai Linlin.
The Bai Linlin who had transmigrated and woken up as a girl.
The Bai Linlin who had been cornered by Xiran and told “From today on, you will bully me every single day,” and thought it was a joke.
The Bai Linlin who had been bound hand and foot by Xiran’s magic and tormented.
The Bai Linlin who had been stopped by good old Xiao Ye from bullying Xiran and thought, You don’t know shit.
The Bai Linlin who had matched wits with Lin Zhizhi the first time she provoked her, all to complete Xiran’s orders.
The Bai Linlin who had sat in Jiang Niaoniao’s warm, soft home, sipping hot tea while the other girl gently said “I’ll protect you,” and felt, for the first time, the faint hope that maybe she really could escape.
The Bai Linlin who had gotten drunk because Jiang Niaoniao wanted to kill Xiran, then slumped drunkenly against Xiran and threw up all over her.
“So… I was the unlucky one all along.”
The shower water kept pouring down with a steady rush.
Hot water streamed over her face, making it impossible to tell water from tears.
She leaned against Xiran’s chest, body trembling faintly.
The memories kept flooding in.
Bai Linlin’s tears finally poured out uncontrollably.
They mixed with the hot water and ran down her face.
She didn’t open her eyes.
Her body simply shook harder and harder, like a leaf in the wind.
Xiran behind her seemed to sense something.
The arm holding her tightened just a fraction.
Her chin rested on top of Linlin’s soaked hair and rubbed gently.
She said nothing.
She simply kept washing her.
The towel moved across her back, her waist, her bottom, her legs.
The motions remained gentle.
Bai Linlin’s tears fell even harder.
The last memory that surged up was the question that finally had its answer.
“So…”
“Coming back here again.”
“To this ‘Victim Witch’ world.”
“Is it really fate…?”