Ruan Yuan led the still petrified Bai Linlin up the castle’s spiral staircase.
The second floor was a corridor with several doors on either side.
Ruan Yuan pushed open one of them.
Inside was a bedroom.
Much more… normal than Bai Linlin had expected.
A spacious double bed with what looked like soft dark bedding, a wardrobe, a dressing table, even a small sofa.
“You’ll stay here from now on.”
Ruan Yuan said, then naturally led her to the bedside.
Bai Linlin, not fully recovered from the earlier “licking finger” shock, was a bit dazed as she was pressed to sit on the bed’s edge.
Ruan Yuan went around to the other side, shed her outer coat (inside was simple black fitted clothing), lay down naturally, then turned on her side, extended an arm, and scooped the sitting Bai Linlin over, pressing her into an embrace.
Bai Linlin: “!!!” Again?
Her small body was encircled by Ruan Yuan, her back pressed tight against the other’s chest, clearly feeling the warmth and soft curves.
Ruan Yuan’s chin rested on her white hair top, arm around her waist, one leg bent and lightly pressing her legs, forming a complete wrap that left her immobile.
“R-Ruan Yuan sister…”
Bai Linlin’s voice trembled as she tried to struggle a bit.
“I… I can sleep by myself…”
Ruan Yuan’s arm tightened a little, her voice coming from above, carrying undeniable calm.
“Linlin used to love being held by me to sleep. You said it gave the most security, slept the soundest.”
Bai Linlin’s body froze.
If the earlier “habit” of feeding had left her half-believing, this “holding to sleep” preference sent her suspicions skyrocketing.
Really? I don’t buy it.
She seriously doubted all this.
The feeding, the holding to sleep, and other possible “habits” she hadn’t “remembered” yet.
All fabrications by this woman named Ruan Yuan.
To impose a “past” on her, this “amnesiac,” for some purpose.
If the original owner really liked it that much, relied on Ruan Yuan so much—everything fed by her, sleeping held by her, close as conjoined twins—then why… why was “Ruan Yuan” prominently on the block list’s first spot?
The logic didn’t hold.
Unless… the original blocked her precisely because she couldn’t stand this excessive, suffocating “goodness”?
Various guesses flashed in Bai Linlin’s mind, but her body was clamped tight; struggling was futile.
She lifted her head, only able to see Ruan Yuan’s graceful chin and neckline.
Fine.
She suddenly deflated.
What was the point of thinking this now?
Question? Refute?
She had no proof, couldn’t beat the other.
And, honestly, since transmigrating to this damn place, she’d come out ahead.
Ate someone’s premium cake (though fed), lived in someone’s castle estate (though maybe losing private space), got a super-strong “protector” promise (though weird methods).
She, this besides-cute-good-for-nothing combat-five trash—oh, now combat-six trash.
Currently, she’d indeed latched onto a ridiculously thick golden thigh.
As for being held to sleep… Bai Linlin inwardly rolled her eyes.
Anyway, she was now just a 1.37-meter bean sprout, physiologically a little girl.
Being held by another girl to sleep, even if a bit awkward, from a practical benefit angle—how could she lose?
Like premium companion sleep service!
The kind with castle and security!
Figuring this out, her tense body slowly relaxed.
After a day’s hassle—from pure white space to forest instance, to fusion shake and estate shock—mental and physical exhaustion surged like a tide.
Wrapped in a warm (though a bit overly tight) embrace, drowsiness drowned her almost instantly.
Sigh, can’t escape—might as well enjoy.
She nuzzled her head into Ruan Yuan’s embrace for a slightly comfier spot, eyelids drooping heavily.
The tip of her nose lingered with Ruan Yuan’s faint, cool yet reassuring scent.
Consciousness soon sank into darkness.
This sleep was deep, dreamless.
Waking again, the bedroom was pitch dark.
Only moonlight outside and distant unknown lights seeped through curtain gaps, casting faint glows.
Bai Linlin blinked, taking a few seconds to register where she was.
She was still held by Ruan Yuan, the other’s breathing evenly brushing her hair top, arm still firmly around her.
She shifted lightly; Ruan Yuan seemed deep asleep, no reaction.
Bai Linlin carefully summoned the panel in the limited space.
The glow lit up in the dark.
[Next forced game match: 1 hour 58 minutes 47 seconds]
[Room fusion status: Stable (Primary estate: Ruan Yuan – Level 22 Estate)]
She’d slept from afternoon straight to near midnight!
The prior experiences must have drained her hugely.
Awake a bit, previous thoughts reconnected.
Looking at that glaring [1 hour 58 minutes] countdown, a temporarily ignored but crucial issue slammed into her mind, jolting her fully awake.
Game difficulty!
She remembered Ruan Yuan saying death game difficulty matched based on “personal room (estate) level”! Higher players got higher instances!
So the problem was.
She was Level 1 estate now, but fused with Ruan Yuan’s Level 22—system saw her as “subsidiary estate.”
Then, next forced match—by her original Level 1, or primary’s Level 22?!
If the latter…
Bai Linlin envisioned hordes of eight-zhang-tall, flame-spitting, at-least-three-digit-combat monsters leering as they pounced on her combat-6 midget.
She panicked.
Truly panicked.
“R-Ruan Yuan sister!”
No longer caring if she’d wake her, she pushed hard at the arm around her waist, voice urgent.
“Wake up! Quick, wake up!”
Ruan Yuan’s lashes trembled, slowly opening her eyes.
In the dark, her eyes seemed extra deep.
She lowered her head to the squirming little one in her arms; her arm not only didn’t loosen but tightened more, voice husky from just waking.
“Mm? What’s wrong, Linlin? Nightmare?”
“Not a nightmare! Something scarier than a nightmare!”
Bai Linlin hurriedly spilled her worry.
“Game difficulty! Match difficulty! By your Level 22, or my Level 1?”
“If Level 22, won’t I get insta-killed into slag?!”
Ruan Yuan, hearing it out, seemed fully awake.
She didn’t answer immediately, instead gazing at Bai Linlin’s terror-filled small face in the dim light; after a few seconds, she spoke slowly.
“Linlin’s right.”
Her voice calm, even with a touch of “you finally thought of this” understanding.
“After estate fusion, the system’s overall judgment for ‘player’ leans toward the primary estate.”
“So, upcoming game difficulty will basically match my level—that is, Level 22 benchmark.”
Bai Linlin’s vision darkened, life seeming bleak.
Done, truly done.
Castle not even warmed, off to be fodder.
“But…”
Ruan Yuan’s tone shifted, her fingers gently pinching Bai Linlin’s cheek, as if pinching away her panic.
“That way, we’ll enter the same death game instance. I’ll be by your side.”
Her tone certain, carrying strong confidence.
“Don’t worry. I said I’d protect you, and I will.”
“Level 22 instances are dangerous for you, but for me,”
She paused, her voice emotionless.
“Just a bit troublesome.”
Bai Linlin tilted her head up at her blurred outline in the dark.
Ruan Yuan’s tone was too calm, calming her wildly thumping heart from “Level 22 difficulty” oddly.
Trust in her strength?
Or trust in her “best friend” identity? Or merely no choice?
Maybe all.
“Really… no problem?”
Linlin asked softly, with a last trace of uncertainty.
“Mm.”
Ruan Yuan’s reply short and firm. She loosened her arm, sat up, pulling Bai Linlin up too.
“Time’s near; prepare.”
Bai Linlin nodded, took a deep breath, and climbed off the bed.
Sleepiness gone, replaced by tension for the unknown high-difficulty challenge, and a faint… curiosity infected by Ruan Yuan’s confidence.
What would a Level 22 death game be like?
They tidied simply.
Bai Linlin still in that white nightgown and red cloak (no other clothes), Ruan Yuan in action-ready black gear, that ominous black-glowing long blade somehow in her hand.
They stood in the bedroom center, waiting.
The panel countdown ticked to zero second by second.
[00:00:00]
[Matching game scenario…]
[Match successful.]
[Entering death game—Victim Witch]
Vision swallowed by intense white light, familiar detachment hitting again.
Before consciousness fully pulled into the unknown, Linlin only managed to clutch tight a corner of Ruan Yuan’s clothes beside her.
“Victim Witch”? That name… didn’t sound good.