Silence.
After Qing Xinxue had poured out those words in one breath, only a profound silence remained.
Lan Yucheng switched on the light, then carried Qing Xinxue out of the bedroom.
Qing Xinxue offered not the slightest resistance.
She no longer cared what Lan Yucheng might do to her tonight. Would she be cast out, abandoned back to the desolate, shadowed corner from which she came?
Or would she simply be handed over to someone else, never to see Lan Yucheng again?
She closed her eyes, using every last ounce of her strength to stifle her sobs. At the very least, she resolved, she would be strong in these final moments.
Yet, Lan Yucheng neither threw her out nor uttered a single word of reproach.
Instead, she silently carried Qing Xinxue to the living room sofa, settled her there, and then went to the kitchen to pour a cup of warm water.
The entire process was so quiet it felt suffocating.
Qing Xinxue curled up in the corner of the sofa, like a prisoner awaiting a final verdict, her breathing barely audible.
She watched Lan Yucheng’s retreating back, her heart plummeting steadily, sinking into an icy abyss.
‘Had Sister Cheng grown unwilling to even look at her now?’
Just as her own terrifying fantasies threatened to drive her to madness, Lan Yucheng returned.
She did not sit beside Qing Xinxue. Instead, she pulled a chair over and sat opposite her on the other side of the coffee table.
She gently pushed the cup of water across the table, placing it before Qing Xinxue.
“Drink some water.”
The voice was calm, utterly devoid of emotion, betraying neither joy nor anger. There was none of the disgust or fear Qing Xinxue had anticipated.
Qing Xinxue slowly lifted her head, her vision blurred by tears. Through the haze, she saw no expression on Lan Yucheng’s face—no gentle comfort, no cold disdain, only an almost absolute composure.
This very calmness terrified her more than any other emotion.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the cup. The warmth seeped through the ceramic, yet it failed to thaw her icy fingers.
She took small, careful sips.
“Are you finished?” Lan Yucheng finally spoke, her three words like ice pellets striking the ground.
Qing Xinxue flinched violently, causing the water in the cup to slosh over.
She hastily put the cup down, lowering her head. Her voice was as thin as a mosquito’s buzz: “…I’m finished.”
“So,” Lan Yucheng leaned slightly forward, her gaze fixed precisely on Qing Xinxue’s face, “all of this—the poisoning, the previous incidents—it all boils down to you liking me? A kind of… desire not to share me with anyone?”
Qing Xinxue froze completely, her blood instantly congealing.
Her darkest, most shameful secret had just been articulated by Lan Yucheng with such bluntness, even a hint of dispassionate inquiry.
She felt so mortified she nearly fainted. Her fingernails dug deep into her palms as she squeezed out a broken syllable from her throat: “…Yes.”
“Because you like me, you want to monopolize me. Because you fear losing me, you resort to extreme measures to eliminate potential threats, even going so far as to harm me, all to secure my complete attention.”
Lan Yucheng summarized, dissecting each point. “Your words, I understand them.”
‘Understood?’
‘Just… understood?’
Qing Xinxue stared at her blankly. Sister Cheng’s reaction had completely defied all her expectations.
She would have preferred rage, fear, or even outright rejection to this unsettling, inscrutable calm.
“However, Xiaoxue,”
Lan Yucheng’s tone remained level, yet it carried an undeniable force.
“Your method was wrong.”
Qing Xinxue’s heart constricted sharply.
“Poisoning me, harming me, or harming those I might care about, will only lead to one outcome—”
Lan Yucheng stared directly into her eyes, enunciating each word with chilling clarity, “—that is, for me to leave you, or even… to hate you.”
The words “hate you” struck Qing Xinxue’s chest like two daggers.
Her face instantly turned ashen, and she could barely breathe.
More terrifying than being abandoned was being hated by Sister Cheng.
“No… please don’t hate me…” she pleaded instinctively, tears welling up once more. “Sister Cheng, I know I was wrong… I truly know I was wrong…”
“You know you were wrong, and then what?”
Lan Yucheng showed no sign of softening. Instead, she pressed on, her voice imbued with a sharp, almost piercing edge. “The next time you see me smile at someone else, the next time you feel insecure, what will you do? Poison them again? Or find a more covert method?”
“I won’t! I absolutely won’t again!”
Qing Xinxue shook her head frantically, lunging to grasp Lan Yucheng’s hand, only to be stopped mid-motion by a subtle retreat from the other woman.
Her hand froze in mid-air, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of despair.
“Verbal promises hold no meaning.”
Lan Yucheng looked at her suspended hand, her gaze unwavering. “Once trust is broken, rebuilding it requires action, and time.”
Qing Xinxue’s hand fell limply to her side.
She understood. Sister Cheng no longer trusted her.
“Then… what should I do?” All strength seemed to drain from her, and she slumped onto the sofa, her eyes vacant. “What must I do… for you to… for you not to leave me?”
This was her deepest fear, eclipsing all others.
Lan Yucheng remained silent for a moment, seemingly weighing her words.
The only sound in the living room was the ticking of the clock, each second feeling like a slow torture to Qing Xinxue’s nerves.
Finally, Lan Yucheng spoke again, her voice slightly softer, yet still imbued with an undeniable authority.
“The first rule, and one that absolutely cannot be violated, is this: never, ever again entertain any thought or commit any act that would harm me or anyone else. This is the bottom line.”
Her gaze, sharp as an eagle’s, locked onto Qing Xinxue. “If you cannot do this, say so now.”
“I can do it! I can!” Qing Xinxue responded almost immediately, clutching at the words like a lifeline.
“Second,” Lan Yucheng continued, “express your anxieties, your fears, your jealousy… all your negative emotions. Tell me directly, rather than acting them out.”
“But… if I tell you, you’ll find me annoying, you’ll think I’m unreasonable…”
“If you don’t tell me, you’ll do something even more unreasonable. The outcome will be worse.”
Lan Yucheng pointed out calmly, “If you speak, we might find a solution. If you keep it bottled up, it will only lead to greater mistakes, just like tonight.”
Qing Xinxue was speechless.
“Third,” Lan Yucheng looked at her, and a flicker of an incredibly complex emotion seemed to cross the depths of her eyes, too fleeting to catch. “Try to believe what I say. If I say I won’t abandon you, I won’t. At least, not before you violate the first bottom line.”
“Sister Cheng… you… you’re still willing to… to keep me?” Her voice was an unrecognizable tremor.
Lan Yucheng did not directly answer with a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ She simply rose, walked over to Qing Xinxue, and looked down at her.
“Remember the three things you’ve promised me. This is the only way you can remain by my side.” Her tone was almost cruelly clear. “If you cannot do this, then tonight’s conversation will be null and void, and I will handle our relationship in my own way.”
‘Her way? What way?’ Qing Xinxue dared not ask. She only knew this was her last chance.
“I can do it! Sister Cheng, I swear I can do it!” she promised urgently, almost collapsing to her knees.
Lan Yucheng watched her humble, desperate demeanor, and a barely perceptible ripple of emotion flickered deep within her eyes.
She reached out a hand, not for an embrace, but to gently wipe away the lingering tear stains on Qing Xinxue’s cheeks.
The gesture wasn’t particularly tender; it felt almost perfunctory.
“Remember your oath, Qing Xinxue,” she used her full name, a warning in her voice. “Go wash your face, then come back to sleep. Starting tomorrow, everything will be as usual.”
‘Everything as usual…’
She almost tumbled into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on her face repeatedly, trying to calm her chaotic mind and agitated heart.
The person in the mirror had swollen red eyes, a pale face, and looked utterly disheveled.
Yet, her heart, because of those three cold “rules” and the phrase “everything as usual,” was once again infused with a humble hope.
When she returned to the living room, Lan Yucheng had already gone back to the bedroom, the door left ajar.
She cautiously entered, climbed into bed, and curled up on the inner side as before. This time, however, she dared not make any presumptuous moves.
In the darkness, she listened to the steady breathing beside her, her heart a tumultuous sea of emotions.
Sister Cheng had not abandoned her.
She had even… given her clear conditions for staying.
This was a thousand times better than the best outcome she could have imagined.
Though Sister Cheng’s attitude was unprecedentedly calm and distant, perhaps… this was what she deserved.
She had lost the privilege of enjoying Sister Cheng’s unreserved tenderness through her terrible actions. To now be granted a conditional “stay by my side” was already a blessing.
She sniffled softly. The reassuring scent of Sister Cheng still lingered in the air.
She had lost the right to indulge in unrestrained warmth, but she had gained a clear direction, something to strive for—obey the rules, and she could stay.
For her, in this moment, that was enough.
A twisted sense of relief, mixed with the exhaustion of having survived a great ordeal, slowly enveloped her.
She shifted a millimeter, ever so slightly, towards Lan Yucheng, then closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep.
‘Truly… difficult to handle,’ a thought lingered in the air.