Generally, women become more vigilant when a man suddenly approaches them—a primal reflex perhaps etched into their genes since the ancient tribal eras when men would abduct women. However, Ling Yechen, having grown up identifying as male, instinctively raised a fist to strike when she saw the man charging towards her.
In truth, even if she had still been male, his punch was utterly flawed. The biceps and triceps merely lifted the elbow, the forearm muscles pulling the small hand muscles into a fist, striking forward without fully engaging his entire body. The force behind this movement was likely weaker than an elderly person’s exercise punch.
You Bing simply snatched Ling Yechen’s small fist, then, with a forceful tug, like uprooting a sapling, he yanked her onto the bed. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pressed his body down, emitting the classic fermented bean milk scent that had brewed from days without bathing. It was truly baffling why he couldn’t have taken a shower while there was still running water available.
He seemed in no hurry to begin, instead intent on toying with the girl’s body. He first nuzzled and sniffed at Ling Yechen’s pristine white hair and neck, much like a dog foraging for food.
“That’s strange, why do you smell of medicine?”
Ling Yechen’s stomach churned violently, her mind inexplicably drawing a parallel to the scene in *Sword Art Online II* where Kayaba Akihiko tormented the protagonist Asuna. Now, her perspective was suddenly thrust into the heroine’s body, the man’s repulsive, animalistic face rubbing against her, like a filthy mass of asphalt rolling over her, making her feel increasingly defiled.
“Get lost! Get lost, you f***ing b*stard!” Ling Yechen blurted out, mimicking the foul language of a certain Lu Mouwei—the harshest words she could recall. Yet, the man remained unfazed, even swaying his head as if thoroughly enjoying himself. “Oh, that’s lovely! Keep going, keep going!”
And so, before the despairing Ling Yechen, the man stripped off his clothes, revealing himself, then began to tear at Ling Yechen’s garments.
The mere thought of her impending defilement made Ling Yechen suddenly yearn for death—a familiar sensation, akin to her depressive episodes, where nothing mattered, and destruction was simply an option.
She truly was useless, incapable of anything, not only causing trouble for her companions but also suffering abuse once separated from them.
Companions… Ling Yechen thought of Jing Lan, who was both infinitely far away and intimately close at that moment.
‘A waste like me truly doesn’t deserve your protection.’
Tears welled from the corners of the girl’s eyes.
Seeing the girl cry, the man chuckled, “Oh, crying, are we? Don’t cry, little sister, don’t cry. Listen to big brother sing: ‘Darling, little sister, please don’t, don’t you cry~ I’ll use my big d*ck to f*ck you hard~'”
This was an impromptu, vulgarized rendition of ‘The Little Girl Under the Streetlight.’
Never mind. Since nothing could be changed, perhaps she should just… accept it?
What if she was defiled? She wouldn’t die, after all.
Would anyone still like her once she was defiled?
Would boys still like her? Why did she need boys to like her? Because she was already… she was already…
Ling Yechen found the thought ‘I am already a girl’ so blindingly painful that she couldn’t confront it.
If she became a defiled girl, then no one would protect her.
And if she could change back into a boy later (she won’t), then as a boy who had been s*xually assaulted by a man, the rest of her life would likely be spent in nightmares.
The man’s belt seemed to have a stubborn knot; he cursed as he struggled with it, yet his left hand remained clamped tightly around Ling Yechen’s neck, controlling her freedom.
Choked again.
‘Why am I always being choked?’
Ling Yechen had begun to randomly think about unrelated things when she suddenly heard a familiar call.
“Calm down. Think of a way.”
Those were words spoken by Jing Lan to her at a distant time, specifically before a performance two years ago.
She couldn’t recall the exact circumstances then, but the phrase resonated persistently in her mind.
Think of a way. Think of a way. Quickly, think of a way.
No matter what, she could not be defiled.
She had to return to her companions in a pristine state.
More importantly, she could not remain weak any longer.
Otherwise, she would have no right to stand by her companions’ side.
The man’s belt finally came undone; he pulled out his p*nis and began to manually ‘warm it up.’
“I can’t look…” Ling Yechen stammered, twisting her body. “I want to change positions.”
You Bing didn’t even lift his head. “Riding? Oh, that’s great, I love riding. Hey, why are you pretending to be innocent? (He slapped Ling Yechen’s a*s as he spoke.) Don’t you know all about this? What, do you have a boyfriend? You think I’m not good enough?”
Ling Yechen said nothing more, slowly turning her body under You Bing’s control, presenting her back to him.
You Bing couldn’t quite control Ling Yechen’s arms, but she had stopped struggling, seemingly displaying a hint of submission. A man with lust clouding his judgment would, of course, not grow suspicious; naturally, he also failed to notice Ling Yechen subtly inching her body towards the headboard.
It was fortunate the man hadn’t taken the girl’s glasses, otherwise Ling Yechen might not have noticed the fruit knife tucked away in the corner of the desk by the headboard.
Du Lan had carelessly left it there earlier. No one could say what Du Lan had been thinking at the time, perhaps a vague premonition that her relationship with Ling Yechen was finally breaking, and that having a weapon closer at hand might be better then.
You Bing, whose gaze had been solely fixed on Ling Yechen’s body, likely hadn’t noticed the state of the desk, and several small knives on that cluttered surface wouldn’t have seemed out of place anyway.
The man’s ‘warm-up’ was almost complete; his throbbing p*nis was practically upon her, and Ling Yechen could already feel its body heat.
Stealthily anticipating the man’s focus, she surmised that he would be intently staring at the ‘operating area,’ and immediately reached for the knife on the desk.
In an instant.
The man’s thick arm shot out like an agile python, seizing Ling Yechen’s hand that held the knife.
Yet, the very moment her fingers closed around the knife, the cold bakelite texture of the handle surged through Ling Yechen’s arm like a powerful current. A flood of muscle memory, like rapidly shifting shadows, rushed forth, culminating in a movement that was inherently simple, yet devastatingly lethal.
She lightly tossed the small knife into the air.
Then, her other hand swiftly rose to catch the knife mid-air, her mind already mapping out the positions of their respective body parts behind her.
With a swift backward thrust, she savagely plunged the knife into the man’s kidney area—the right kidney, slightly lower than the left. ‘Strange,’ she thought, ‘how do I know that?’
A wet, tearing sound as flesh parted.
“Aaaaaahhhh!!!!” The man shrieked a bloodcurdling scream that could have terrified even zombies, yet the hand gripping Ling Yechen’s left arm remained tight—a seemingly unconscious attempt at leverage, but in reality, a fatal mistake. The conditioned reflex caused by the excruciating pain had already made his right side habitually recoil. As he exerted force to the left, his right side quickly relaxed, freeing Ling Yechen’s right hand and leg. The moment her right hand had room to move, she fiercely dragged the blade, tearing a ten-centimeter gash across the man’s abdomen, from which grayish intestines, streaked with blood, began to protrude.
“I’ll f*ck you!!” the man hissed, gnashing his teeth. He finally released his left hand, attempting to grab Ling Yechen’s neck with it.
But Ling Yechen’s now-free left hand swiftly shifted, seizing the man’s thick p*nis. Her knife-wielding right hand pulled out the blade, and with a quick glance back to confirm her target, she plunged the knife towards his ‘tool.’ The blade twisted, and a mixture of ‘O’Pao fruit milk’ and blood gushed from his s*rotum.