Kill Me, Indulge Me
In the interval while Lu Ling hesitated over whether to bring the medicine to Lin Que, she watched as the lights in Lin Que’s bedroom were switched off—off then on, on then off, alternating between light and dark with an increasing tempo.
—Is she feeling unwell?
Lu Ling stood still at the door of Lin Que’s bedroom. On the windowpane beside her, the moonlight merged with the deep blue sea, and the sounds of laughter from the beach drifted away into the night breeze.
The scent of mint was present, acting like fish bait.
“Thud—creak—bang!”
Just as Lu Ling’s knuckles were about to land, the door was flung open. Before she could react, a cold sensation wrapped around her wrist, and the door slammed shut again.
She was pressed against the wall. The scent of mint and citrus swirled in her breath, with a lingering note of bitter pomade acidity. Lin Que was in her arms—clinging like a koala. The lights in the room remained off; only the moon bore witness to this “accident.”
Lu Ling slowed her breathing, her upper body tense. Lin Que’s arms, wrapped around her waist, grew tighter and tighter. Lin Que’s entire body was icy, as if she had been soaked in cold water all day, yet when her breath fell upon Lu Ling’s neck and collarbone, it was hurried and scorching.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lu Ling saw that Lin Que’s long black hair had turned golden, and her skin had become a lifeless white under the moonlight. As if sensing her gaze, Lin Que looked up.
The originally light amber pupils had now turned into a golden-red hue.
Lin Que blinked and tilted her head, staring at her with obsession. Her hands, which had been around Lu Ling’s waist, moved upward bit by bit, brushing over her spine like feathers. Her icy fingertips were like fine rain, tentatively stroking the soft flesh of Lu Ling’s neck.
Lu Ling’s breath hitched, and she closed her eyes, the tension leaving her upper body—it was itchy, an involuntarily comfortable itch that made her rub her legs together.
The scorching breath drew closer, the mint fragrance acting like a sedative, carrying the moisture of a tongue—”You can’t!”
Lu Ling suddenly snapped back to her senses and instinctively tried to push Lin Que away, but Lin Que’s reaction was faster—
The tiny gap between them vanished completely.
On the floor, their shadows overlapped entirely; Lin Que had completely “consumed” her.
Lu Ling’s gaze followed Lin Que’s movements, her pupils shrinking and dilating.
Surprisingly, Lin Que did not stubbornly insist on her way.
Though she also showed no intention of withdrawing the long leg she had wedged between Lu Ling’s own.
But this at least meant she could understand Lu Ling’s words.
The situation was much better than the first time.
Lu Ling took a deep breath, her back pressed tight against the door, unconsciously trying to maintain some distance. Just as she was about to speak, Lin Que leaned forward without warning—and the distance she had worked to keep vanished again.
Lin Que rubbed her nose against Lu Ling’s, her fingertips stroking Lu Ling’s neck. Her eyes were watery, as if they held the gentleness of an entire spring.
She was seducing her.
A wicked person.
Lu Ling unconsciously clenched her hands. As if reaching a decision, she opened her eyes and looked directly into Lin Que’s.
She mimicked the way Lin Que treated her, raising her hand to let her warm fingertips clumsily yet endearingly toy with Lin Que’s earlobe.
Lin Que was stunned at first, then her eyes brightened. Cooperating with the movement, she lightly swayed her head.
Like a puppy.
Lu Ling breathed a sigh of relief. She gazed at Lin Que; the dim moonlight reflected on the sea and fully kissed Lin Que’s golden strands of hair.
In every person’s life, there is an insurmountable weakness, a point where willpower completely collapses. Lu Ling thought that her weakness was “beauty.”
—Lin Que was doing something utterly wicked, and even though she was currently “ill,” the illness could not dissolve the wickedness, and the wickedness could not dissolve her beauty.
Such a person actually existed in the world.
Lu Ling’s eyes flickered, and she lowered her hand.
She leaned against the door, supported by Lin Que’s leg, her chest heaving, her eyes moist, and her vision blurred.
Lin Que held her tightly, golden hair scattered across both their chests. The sting of fangs piercing skin was not painful; the subtle movement of a feminine Adam’s apple against the thin flesh of her neck felt like a heartbeat.
Lin Que had successfully seduced her once again.
Lu Ling watched Lin Que from the corner of her eye and slowly raised her hand, tentatively stroking her hair.
Lin Que’s body stiffened for a moment.
Lu Ling tilted her head; she could feel Lin Que looking at her, like a puppy confirming its master’s intent.
“Do you not like me touching you?” Lu Ling looked down and asked.
Lin Que shook her head. The tips of her hair slipped into crevices and stirred the surface of the lake.
“I like it.”
“You… you can’t.” Lu Ling bit down on the knuckle of her curled index finger, her voice trembling.
Lin Que looked at her with an expression of innocence and grievance.
Why can’t I? Do you not like it?
Lu Ling averted her gaze, the blush on her face hidden by the night.
“Who am I?” Lu Ling looked up into her eyes and asked.
Lin Que tilted her head slightly, appearing to think.
A layer of bitterness inevitably rose in Lu Ling’s heart—did her not knowing who she was mean that anyone would do?
Rustle—
Lu Ling looked up at the sound.
Lin Que took her hand, first tapping Lu Ling’s chest, then pointing to herself.
Lu Ling was slightly stunned. “Do you mean… I am yours?”
Lin Que nodded.
The bitterness in Lu Ling’s heart faded slightly. She smiled and gently cupped Lin Que’s face—only at a moment like this could she do such a thing to her.
“No,” her tone was gentle. “I am Lu Ling.”
“Lu Ling belongs to herself.”
Lin Que nodded, then tried to lean in again—Lu Ling dodged backward, her finger pressing against Lin Que’s lips.
“Hmm?”
Lu Ling gently rubbed her earlobe, soothing Lin Que’s agitated nerves—this tactic was clearly effective.
“Will you still remember what is happening now tomorrow?”
Lin Que gave no reaction.
Lu Ling answered her own question: “Never mind, it doesn’t matter whether you remember or not.”
Lin Que looked up at her.
Lu Ling didn’t notice that the color of the golden hair was gradually darkening.
“Why didn’t you argue back against Chu Man?” Lu Ling asked.
“Did you not understand the subtext of her words?”
Lin Que shook her head.
Lu Ling narrowed her eyes. “You understood but didn’t want to argue?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lin Que’s lips were stained with the crimson from Lu Ling’s veins, yet the eyes watching her were filled with innocence. Her mouth opened and closed like a little fox that had just cultivated a human form and was not yet able to master language.
Lu Ling, meanwhile, seemed like a seasoned master, or a mother with boundless patience.
She did not rush her; her fingers gently kneading Lin Que’s earlobe.
Jackets and blouses lay scattered on the floor; snowy white skin was exposed to the moonlight, and the beads of blood congealing on the side of her neck were vivid and sacred.
“It’s meaningless.” Lin Que held her tight again, her tongue skillfully whisking away the blood.
Lu Ling’s neck arched back, her toes curling. The questioning could not end yet—if it ended now, the answer to the question she cared about most would probably remain a mystery forever.
“Then why did you kiss Enuo?”
Lin Que gazed at her lips. “I liked it.”
It was the expected answer, but it left her feeling inexplicably… jealous.
“You can kiss just because you like it?” Lu Ling’s tone was a bit sharp.
Lin Que continued to look at her innocently.
One high and one low, one looking down and one looking up.
It wasn’t quite a confrontation, yet a playful spat was difficult when one party was half-mute.
Lu Ling let out her breath.
What was the difference between Lin Que’s current state and that of a patient whose consciousness was blurred by a high fever?
Lu Ling looked down at Lin Que, buried in her neck, and her eyes froze—Lin Que’s hair was reverting to black bit by bit.
She pushed Lin Que’s shoulder, signaling her to get up.
Lin Que showed no intention of moving.
Lu Ling gave a frustrated laugh and pushed her away forcefully. She leaned down to pick up the black bag covered by her coat, then looked back at Lin Que—Lin Que stood behind her, her gaze fixed on her, eyes innocent and aggrieved, as if repeating that question: Why?
Do you not like it?
Lu Ling looked away. After confirming her hair wasn’t turning gold again, she took the supplement out of the bag and handed it to Lin Que as if conducting a new experiment.
Lin Que frowned and pushed her hand away. “Tastes bad.”
Lu Ling laughed out of anger and pointed to herself. “That tastes bad, so I taste good?”
Lin Que tilted her head slightly and nodded with certainty.
“…”
Lu Ling looked at her helplessly but still didn’t give up on handing her the supplement.
Lin Que’s condition today wasn’t as severe as the first time. If this situation kept happening periodically, it would be a burden for everyone.
Thinking this, Lu Ling touched her own neck.
Lin Que watched her, her beautiful eyebrows knitting together.
She was very dissatisfied.
Does she not like me? Why doesn’t she like me? I like her so much.
Under the cover of night, Lu Ling didn’t notice the change in Lin Que, nor did she notice that the darkened hair had lightened by another shade.
“Here.”
Lu Ling took out the supplement according to the instructions and handed it to Lin Que.
Lin Que took a step back, sinking deeper into the darkness—”Click.”
Lu Ling was startled. “Why are you locking the door?”
Lin Que didn’t answer; she just stared at her. Her golden eyes and red pupils were even more striking in the dark—like a cat.
“Oh, right, you want water, don’t you!”
“Wu—”
The moment Lu Ling turned around, Lin Que hugged her from behind without warning.
She circled her completely with one arm and used her free hand to pinch Lu Ling’s chin.
The shadows cast on the bed were lengthened and entwined by the moonlight.
Lips against lips, tongue against tongue, breath against breath.
“—Thump, thump, thump.”
Lu Ling snapped her eyes open, wanting to push Lin Que away.
Lin Que followed her force, and the two of them fell back together onto the quilt. Lu Ling’s legs went from thrashing and struggling to being fully extended. The salty sea breeze slipped in through the crack in the window, wrapping around her fingertips and sliding over her exposed skin like a paintbrush.
“Are you already resting? Going to bed so early…”
“Has anyone seen Xiao Lu?”
It was Ren Hui.
Lu Ling pushed hard against Lin Que’s shoulders. Their pressed lips finally separated, but her vision was blurry—consequently, her other senses were magnified infinitely.
The sound of Lin Que’s panting, her fingertips turning from icy back to warm; those fingers brushed through her hair, over her eyebrows, her earlobes, and finally landed on her lips.
“Why struggle?”
Lin Que kissed her neck, her voice faint. Anxiety, grievance, and kisses landed upon Lu Ling’s lips—”Do you not like me?”
The spring night was a deep blue; the moon was a bright yellow, set into the blue silk like a gemstone.
Lin Que looked to her side.
Her black hair fell like a waterfall. The moonlight shone into the room, illuminating the girl with light-colored pupils who was sleeping quietly with her back turned. Lin Que’s mind was a complete blank.
Memories were like movie frames, every single one playing clearly in her mind.
What should she do?
Lin Que let out a sigh. There were too many things to think about. She instinctively avoided thinking and gazed at Lu Ling—not out of evasion, but as a simple lament: “Silly girl.”
“You should have stabbed me to death.”
You should have killed me instead of indulging me.