What, then, was the inevitable consequence of a magical girl finding herself stranded amongst a horde of demons?The answer, glaringly obvious, promised nothing good.Yet, Qi Yue’an, at this very moment, did not perceive any ill treatment; quite the opposite. Here, she enjoyed three full, rather excellent meals a day. The room itself bore no resemblance to a prison cell, and she was even permitted internet access, albeit a restricted version that allowed only browsing and receiving, never sending.
The crown, once hailed as a sacred relic, was no longer in her possession, having been claimed by him while she lay unconscious. Now, she could do little but languish in the bedroom, her gaze fixed wistfully upon the door.
Truth be told, she had considered probing for information, attempting to ascertain her whereabouts and devise an escape. However, she had never been adept at conversation, and Lin Xiao had always managed to locate her with ease in the past. Even if she did manage to flee, she would likely be apprehended swiftly.
Moreover, he had yet to make any move. Was it merely that the opportune moment had not arrived, or had he, in a sudden surge of mercy, decided against ‘completing’ her, choosing instead to accept her as she was?
She chuckled, a bitter sound mocking her own weakness and naivety, as she stared vacantly at the ceiling. It was precisely as it had been when she first discovered that the Demon King was him—she had clung to hope, awaiting his embrace. Now, she found herself still clutching that faint ember of delusion.
The room, while not small, had begun to feel monotonous after she had spent a considerable amount of time within it, especially given its uncanny resemblance to a previous one.
More agonizing than brutal torture or sudden death was this pervasive uncertainty—the not knowing when her end would arrive, nor how she would be treated, merely being left in place.
Back then, she had only learned from Xiyin and him that she would be supplanted by a ‘more complete’ version of herself, yet she remained utterly oblivious to the intricacies of the situation. She was perpetually excluded from the truth, propelled forward by others, and even now, with her very life at stake, she was left completely in the dark.
“What a pathetic existence…”
Qi Yue’an murmured, her hand reaching into the deeper recesses of the room, where a colossal bathtub resided, perhaps placed there in consideration of her strong aversion to encountering others.
Her garments fell away, one by one, until she lay within the tub like a porcelain doll. The warm water, prepared at some unseen moment, gradually enveloped her abdomen, then her chest.
She still possessed an ethereal youth and beauty; her fair skin, kissed by the warm water, bloomed with a delicate cherry blush. Beneath the shimmering surface, her slightly nascent yet exquisitely formed breasts shimmered into view, completing a perfect tableau alongside her slender, graceful waist and long, straight legs.
Her long hair, a striking dichotomy of half-black and half-white, unfurled like some exotic aquatic bloom, slowly blossoming in the clear water, emanating an eerie yet mesmerizing luster.
Had it been her former self, she would surely have succumbed at first glance. So this was the beauty he yearned for; no wonder he had gone to such lengths.
A tumultuous tide of emotion—part hatred, part grievance, yet tinged with a profound reluctance—surged within her, drawing forth tears. Yet, it quickly receded, leaving behind only a void of helpless emptiness.
A dagger, the very genesis of everything, had appeared in her hand at some unknown moment, its hilt inlaid with a gem forged from her soul.
This was hers alone, an extension of her soul, etched with patterns like jealous flames, rendering it exceptionally alluring.
The dagger drew ever closer to her gaze, then met the delicate skin of her neck. Its edge, still impossibly sharp, pierced her effortlessly, and crimson blossoms unfurled in the water, gradually staining the pristine liquid red.
Consciousness slowly receded as life drained away, her vision gradually consumed by darkness. It was a descent akin to liberation, a plunge towards eternal tranquility…
****
Yet, the anticipated eternal silence never arrived.
When consciousness returned, the sensation that first registered was not the chill of darkness, but a firm, even slightly trembling, embrace.
The lingering scent in her nostrils was no longer that of blood, but his familiar, distinctive aroma.
Qi Yue’an struggled to pry open her eyes, her blurred vision eventually focusing on a pair of emerald irises alarmingly close. Within their depths, the usual inscrutability or weary indifference was absent, replaced instead by an intense urgency she had never witnessed—perhaps even… panic?
Lin Xiao clutched her fiercely, his grip so tight it nearly stole her breath, as though fearing that a single loosening would cause her to dissipate into the ether.
A magical girl, so long as her soul gem remained intact, could not truly perish. The wound on her neck had already healed, leaving only a faint red mark, a stark reminder that the recent events were no mere illusion.
A shallow wave of disappointment washed over her as she realized her bid for release had failed. Yet, immediately, other faces surfaced unbidden in her mind—Xiyin’s retreating back, Bai Jin’s serene countenance, Bai Zhi’s radiant smile… and Lin Xiao’s indistinct silhouette. If she were truly to vanish, would they not grieve?
‘Live for yourself…’
Xiyin’s words resonated in her ears.
But what could she, stripped of freedom, devoid of any future, and no longer desiring one, possibly pursue? What, truly, was ‘herself’? A profound, empty bewilderment swallowed the fleeting disappointment.
She closed her eyes once more, her face utterly devoid of expression, like an exquisite doll from which all emotion had been siphoned, its interest in the world entirely extinguished.
Lin Xiao gazed upon her lifeless face, noting that the sorrow, indignation, and even hatred that had flared during her earlier fierce resistance had now utterly vanished.
She truly seemed to have transformed into a soulless object, a sight that exerted more pressure on him than any fervent accusation could.
The girl he remembered, even in her solitude, had always smiled. Even when confronted with the most despairing tragedies, she had never worn such an expression.
“I am sorry…”
[‘…’]
“I shouldn’t have disregarded your feelings… I will not deceive you again… I will not coerce you again…”
[‘Liar…’]
“So, please, do not leave me, alright?”
[‘You were the one who abandoned me first…’]
“…What I require now is *this* version of you, the one who shared those nascent days with me, before everything began.”
[‘…!’]
Qi Yue’an attempted to push him away, but at some unforeseen moment, an unfamiliar bracelet had appeared on her wrist, severely diminishing her strength to that of an ordinary girl.
“So, please, do not do such things. If you were to die… everything would lose its meaning.”
She listened to his words, helplessly enduring his monologue, and only spoke once he had finished.
“So… you have stolen my future… and now you wish to strip away even the memories of that past time from me…?”
Qi Yue’an spoke, her patience finally snapping, yet her voice, contrary to the forceful rebuke she had envisioned, emerged as merely a faint whisper.
[‘You deny me death… yet you also refuse to let me truly live…’]
“I…”
“You even designated me for a position as ‘Queen’s consort’… isn’t that solely for *her*? It couldn’t possibly be for me, could it? I recall no other interactions with you beyond our childhood; do not tell me such profound feelings blossomed from that alone.”
She cut off his attempt to explain. While she might not be exceptionally astute, and perhaps easily deceived, that did not mean she would believe such words from the man who had just betrayed her trust once more.
“This is to protect you…”
He endeavored to explain, yet his words still failed to ring true. Indeed, if his sole intent was to shield her from the harm of other demons, numerous other designations could have served the purpose, yet he had specifically chosen this one.
“If you are unwilling, it can be canceled. Right now.”
Lin Xiao spoke, yet appended another statement.
“But you cannot depart.”
Qi Yue’an, her heart hammering from the recent resistance and surge of emotion, drew ragged breaths. She felt that her earlier display had been akin to a woman throwing a tantrum out of disfavor.
[‘Yes… I am nothing more than a defeated, captured prisoner. What right do I possess to be unreasonable?’]
She mused, then exhaled slowly. For reasons unknown, she found herself speaking.
“What is it… that you desire?”
“I need you.”
[‘If only that were true.’]
Qi Yue’an scoffed at herself, for even now, she harbored a flicker of hope for this deceiver—hope that he genuinely sought to protect her, that he truly cared for her in this present moment.
[‘It matters not, for… there is nothing left to hope for. If you desire it… then it is yours.’]
The flicker of agitation that had briefly crossed her face gradually subsided, and to his astonishment, she returned his embrace.
“Truly…? Do you genuinely need me? Will you truly never leave me again?”
Qi Yue’an adopted an eager, almost cooing demeanor, uttering a half-truth, half-lie from her heart. It was her first time donning a mask for him, yet it felt remarkably natural.
“Yes, I promise. I will go cancel the wedding shortly, and we shall be as we once were…”
He spoke, loosening his embrace, seemingly intent on re-establishing a degree of distance. Yet, like a fledgling plummeted from its nest, some things, once broken, could never truly return.
Lin Xiao waited for a long moment, yet the girl remained pressed against him, her hands tightly encircling his body. She spoke slowly.
“No, there is no longer a need to cancel it, Xiao. Since you still require me, will you grant me one request?”
Her warm breath feathered against his ear, the softest parts of her body pressed intimately against him, conveying a tender warmth and a unique fragrance, like that of white poppies.
“Be with me… for all eternity…”
These words, like a tender confession, held a seductive softness that promised to ensnare.
Her words carried a suffocating weight, like the most insidious curse. It was precisely as it had been that distant afternoon when he had first agreed to her; from that day forward, his long journey had been inextricably woven with her presence.
The palace was now shrouded in the depths of night. No one bore witness to his reply, only that on that particular evening, Lin Xiao did not return to his own chambers.