The atmosphere froze for a fraction of a second.
The chandelier cast shimmering circles of light across the floor, dazzling the eyes. Following a brief silence, the maid bowed slightly and inquired with a smile, “Princess Dorothy, what kind of room do you prefer?”
Su Zhao: (She remained silent).
No way.
Were they actually planning to trap her here?
Light and shadow danced across the maids’ lowered eyelashes, rendering their nearly rigid, humble postures into obedient puppets on strings.
Su Zhao slowly released her grip on the door, and the maids, who had previously kept their heads bowed submissively, snapped their heads up in unison.
Pairs of eyes stared at her in silence. The posture with which they awaited her instructions appeared deferential, yet exerted an intense wave of oppression over her.
“You want me to choose?”
Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, Su Zhao couldn’t help letting out a light chuckle, deliberately and leisurely drawing out her tone.
“Oh, as for me, there are so many rooms in the Summer Palace, but I only like Sister’s room.”
“I like Sister’s soft, comfortable bed the most.”
Su Zhao even added malicious details, describing it meticulously to them. “Just imagine, the quilt still retains Sister’s body temperature and fragrance.”
“I would lie right where Sister used to lie, touching the warmth left by her skin, feeling the traces she left behind. It would give me the ultimate sense of security.”
The maids were left dumbfounded.
They exchanged bewildered glances.
Gasps echoed one after another.
Su Zhao found herself relishing it; the more intense their reactions, the more entertaining she found the situation.
“Sister’s bed is said to have had a calming sleep array specifically carved into it by a master craftsman. The lamp oil is made from merman tears, allowing one to enjoy a magnificent, enchanting dream amid the burning white mist.”
“Even the tassels on the bed curtains are adorned with legendary pearls transformed from mermaid tears—utmost luxury. I’m quite curious myself, just how wonderful could this dream possibly be?”
“I would love to lie down and truly experience it for myself.”
So, so bold!
A continuous commotion rippled through the line of attendants.
Their startled faces nearly solidified into stone statues.
Cynthia’s germophobia was common knowledge.
Three hours prior, they had carefully scrubbed every single doorknob in Cynthia’s palace using disinfecting tools.
Her Imperial Highness the Crown Princess couldn’t even tolerate shortcuts like dust-removal magic, requiring every inch to be manually swept and inspected.
Allowing her younger sister to enter her palace and use her belongings was already enough to shock everyone.
Yet to say that she could even accept her younger sister entering her bedroom, sleeping in her bed, and using her quilts…
Simply unbelievable!
The maid’s throat tightened. “We assumed Your Highness would prefer the Starlight Dome in the West Tower.”
“What is so great about the Starlight Dome?”
Observing their reactions, a sudden streak of mischief arose in Su Zhao.
Leaning lazily against the doorframe, her fingertips twirled a stray lock of hair near her temple as her tone shifted swiftly from cheerful to aggrieved, dropping half an octave lower.
“Why hasn’t Sister come back yet?” she sighed with longing. “I’ve waited for her so long, I’m practically turning into a statue waiting for her return.”
“I miss Sister so much. I won’t go anywhere else; I only want to stay in a room that carries Sister’s scent, to imagine Sister’s scorching breath, to yearn for Sister’s hurried kisses.”
“When she gets excited,”
Su Zhao’s fingertips slowly brushed across the side of her neck.
“…she leaves a bloody, metallic taste right here when she bites.”
Was this something they were allowed to hear?!
Horrified, the maid couldn’t help taking half a step back.
Suddenly exposed to such royal privacy, everyone panicked and lost their footing. The maids thought with utter anxiety: Would they be assassinated by the dignified Crown Princess to silence them?
“…Please wait a moment, I will send someone. No, I will go ask Her Highness’s instructions personally.”
The maid’s voice turned faint, and she drifted away slowly.
This palace official, renowned for her flawless etiquette, walked straight out of the main hall with a stiff, matching-side-foot gait.
The crowd scattered in all directions amidst Su Zhao’s laughter. For the sake of preserving their precious little lives, everyone wished they could plug their ears and go completely deaf.
Better to avoid hearing any more earth-shattering blasphemies from this outrageously bold little princess.
Life comes first!
After such a playful commotion, Su Zhao was in exceptionally high spirits. She laughed so hard she doubled over, taking quite a while to finally curb her giggles before settling lazily back into her seat.
The moment she lifted her gaze, the mirror on the dressing table before her reflected her own flushed face.
The subtle, elusive smile Cynthia wore while dressing her earlier seemed to linger by her ear.
Mentioning Cynthia naturally brought Cynthia to mind.
Su Zhao suddenly recalled the scene from that morning’s wardrobe change.
Earlier in the day, the mirror on this dressing table had clearly reflected Cynthia’s hand crawling up onto her shoulder.
She still remembered how Sister’s scalding fingertips grazed the back of her neck, branding a long-lasting trace into her skin. She had snuggled into her arms, wrapped loosely in the scent of roses.
In the mirror, that person’s eyes held a smile as she elegantly and leisurely unbuttoned her gown. The scorching temperature of those fingertips melted across Su Zhao’s collarbone inch by inch.
Igniting a chain of flames.
Cynthia adhered strictly to etiquette, never crossing any outrageous boundary. Yet the way she looked at her clearly indicated she wanted to swallow her whole.
What on earth was Sister up to?
Propping her chin in her hand, Su Zhao absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair, growing drowsy.
After a busy day, only now did she finally spare a shred of mental focus for Cynthia.
Wondering what on earth could be holding her up, causing her to neglect the promise she made earlier to accompany her in practicing her dance steps.
Her reflection in the mirror tilted its head in tandem.
At that moment, Su Zhao found herself right inside Cynthia’s palace, lounging in the very chair where Cynthia had once sat.
The scent of roses blooming at the tip of her nose belonged exclusively to Cynthia. Before her stood the vanity table Cynthia used, reflecting her own silhouette in the mirror, a mirror that had once also reflected the two of them pressing intimately close together.
Lost in thought before the mirror, Su Zhao tightened her fingers unconsciously, twisting the ends of her hair.
She noticed that hanging from her slightly reddened earlobe were the moonstone earrings Cynthia had personally placed upon her ears. They were a gift Cynthia had specially prepared for her birthday last year.
Around her neck, the pearl necklace carefully selected by Cynthia had also been thoroughly fondled by her, seemingly still retaining the warmth of her fingertips.
Every corner of the air was permeated with Cynthia’s unique scent of roses, wrapping around Su Zhao with the gentle yet powerful dominance of an invisible net.
She had nowhere to run.
Sister is truly…
Possessiveness is off the charts.
Su Zhao let out a faint sigh, releasing the hair she was practically about to tear out.
Having waited a long time without seeing Cynthia return, and with the attendants nowhere in sight, Su Zhao propped her head, dozed off like a chick pecking at rice for a moment, and happily drifted off to meet the God of Dreams.
Perhaps influenced by her earlier words.
Su Zhao drifted into an enchanting dreamscape.
The midsummer night wind was scorching and hot, carrying an inexpressible, burning heat.
Su Zhao felt a sudden, stinging pain bloom at her earlobe. It felt as though Cynthia was slowly pulling on her earring, the cool jade thumb ring digging painfully into the soft flesh of her lobe.
“The little nightingale is trembling,” Cynthia murmured.
Su Zhao thought hazily that Cynthia was truly a bastard—why on earth did she love playing with her earrings so much?
If she kept playing, she’d just throw the earrings away.
Curled up in the seat, Su Zhao opened her eyes without catching a glimpse of Cynthia. Cynthia stood right behind her, tugging at her earlobe so that the slightest movement brought a sharp pulling sensation.
Unable to turn her head back, half-asleep and half-awake, Su Zhao felt the densely packed, microscopic aches of her earlobe suddenly spike into intense pain at a certain instant.
Transforming into the sharp agony of being forcefully pierced through by an iron pestle.
Su Zhao: “Hiss.”
The involuntary gasp of pain hadn’t fully escaped her lips before the pearl necklace around her neck abruptly tightened, cutting off her airway.
Wave after wave of pain intensified. Amidst the suffocating dizziness, Su Zhao caught sight of the reflection in the mirror.
Cynthia’s fingertips were tracing meticulously along her neck. Perhaps a bead of warm blood had splattered near the corner of her lips.
Her crimson lips parted slightly, her nimble tongue sweeping across them, leisurely rolling away the droplet of blood.
Swallowing.
“Hush.”
Su Zhao clearly saw the motion of her throat swallowing, immediately followed by lips reeking of a metallic, bloody scent pressing against her trembling eyelids.
Cynthia laughed leisurely, “Sister, you must not speak.”
Su Zhao’s startled gasp caught in her throat as the dreamscape inverted.
She tumbled onto the soft mattress.
The midsummer night wind carried the dense fragrance of roses, brushing softly across the window lattice as moonlight washed over Cynthia’s bed.
Lifting her gaze, Su Zhao saw Sister leaning casually before the vanity mirror, looking down at her idly while playfully tossing the pearl necklace in her hand.
It was precisely the string that had dangled just above Su Zhao’s collarbone earlier that day, repeatedly caressed by her fingertips.
The dream shifted too abruptly.
Su Zhao began doubting her own memories, unconsciously lowering her head. While she was busy checking her neck, Cynthia had already silently appeared behind her.
Her waist suddenly grew cool.
Bracing herself against the vanity table, Su Zhao froze all over. Cynthia leisurely untied the sash of her nightgown, the cool jade thumb ring brushing past the burning curve of her waist.
“I told you, the little nightingale never learns how to tie knots.”
Her whisper, laden with heat, crashed recklessly into Su Zhao’s ears. Su Zhao couldn’t stop shivering all over.
The next instant, Cynthia bit down. Like a scorching tongue of flame licking her earlobe, Su Zhao gasped, instinctively trying to retreat.
Yet the arms she used to push away were pinned down by Cynthia. Her resistance was effortlessly neutralized. Cynthia parted her teeth, latching onto her like a wild beast clamping down on its prey’s neck.
Her moonstone earring was gently caught between Cynthia’s teeth.
“It is fine. The little nightingale does not need to know how to do everything; I am here for you anyway.”
Why must she resort to biting people!
Su Zhao wanted to scold her for acting like a dog, but any words she wished to utter were choked back into her throat by her panting breath.
The mirror reflected their overlapping figures, and that pearl necklace was slipped back around her neck by Cynthia.
Cynthia’s practiced, effortless movements resembled locking a collar around her.
Following the path of the pearl necklace, her fingertips drifted downward, tracing an ambiguous curve right at Su Zhao’s neckline.
At that moment, a vague sense of déjà vu washed over Su Zhao, pulling her back to that morning when Cynthia laced up her corset.
At the very moment she needed oxygen the most, those hands tightened abruptly, choking her into ragged pants and leaving her teetering on the edge of suffocation.
Outside the window, a bird suddenly began to chirp.
Cynthia’s silver hair cascaded down, the tips brushing against her shivering shoulder blades with an itch Su Zhao could barely withstand.
Biting her earlobe, shifting from the lobe to the tip of her ear, Cynthia breathed out scorching heat.
“Sister’s collarbone is so pretty.”
Her voice carried a smile.
“It looks as though it holds a pool of moonlight.”
She looked as though she wanted to bite right into it.
And drink that pool of moonlight dry.
“You jerk…”
Su Zhao’s angry curse caught in her throat, melting into a soft, whimpering moan. Her futile struggles resembled coquettish flirting; even her insults turned into foreplay.
Fumbling blindly in her exhaustion, Su Zhao tried to grab Cynthia’s shoulders and shove her away fiercely, only to grasp the smooth silk of her nightgown instead.
The birdsong grew increasingly frantic, as though stimulated by something, crying out in wild, overlapping succession.
Su Zhao’s earlobe burned under a raging fire as though a second heartbeat had sprouted there, pounding frantically in a bid to burst straight out of her blood vessels through sheer speed.
Cynthia laughed and bit down hard.
Amidst the sudden, blooming pain, she gripped Su Zhao’s chin, forcibly twisting her face toward the mirror.
The mirror vividly reflected the bedroom vanity table, while the real Su Zhao remained curled up in her chair, fast asleep.
An ambiguous blush crept from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck, and that pearl necklace still bound her throat tightly.
Su Zhao suddenly heard the click of high heels striking the floor.
Footsteps approached from afar, every single step landing precisely against her heartbeat.
The dreamscape peeled away layer by layer like a fading oil painting. The moment Su Zhao jolted awake, the sound of a door opening echoed through the corridor.
Su Zhao felt her body enveloped in shadow. Cynthia’s dress hem swept across the foot of the bed, trailing in a winding sweep that covered her ankles.
“The maids told me my little nightingale wanted to sleep in Sister’s bed?”
Struggling to open her eyes sleepily, Su Zhao glanced up at her.
She let out a cold snort and couldn’t be bothered to reply.
Cynthia chuckled softly, pinching her chin with playful intrigue: “Little nightingale.”
Pressing her lips against the moonstone earring, Cynthia’s teeth lightly grazed her blood-engorged earlobe. “You forgot your promise to me.”
“What promise?”
Su Zhao dodged away in dissatisfaction, her drowsy eyelashes fluttering as she casually complained, “Sister clearly promised to teach me dance steps, yet you broke your own promise and still have the nerve to ask me for a promise.”
Cynthia smiled lightly: “I broke my promise?”
Dazed and groggy, Su Zhao felt her necklace being lifted, the pearls repeatedly rubbed back and forth against her neck. The residual body heat cooled by the air shifted between hot and cold, incredibly annoying.
Impatiently, she swatted her hand away.
“Forget it, Sister, do not talk to me right now.”
“You do not want to talk to me—who do you want to talk to?”
Cynthia leaned in closer, the scent of roses swelling intensely, weaving thread by thread into Su Zhao’s nostrils.
Cynthia asked in a slow, gentle murmur: “Evelyn? Ophelia? Or Todd?”
Every time she named someone, the pressure of her hand grew heavier.
“Or perhaps that damned succubus and the elf?”
Unconsciously, Su Zhao stroked her burning earlobe, the moonstone earring reflecting a faint, ghostly moonlight. It mirrored the cold flame in Cynthia’s eyes, devouring her escape routes inch by inch.
“Sister,” Cynthia smiled as she released the necklace and took hold of her hand.
“Did you not say that you would always be mine?”
Su Zhao could no longer distinguish dream from reality.
Muddle-headed, she scratched the palm of Cynthia’s hand.
“I am so sleepy, Sister, I am going to sleep first. You can play by yourself.”
“Let us talk about whatever it is tomorrow.”
Cynthia: (She remained silent).
And thus.
When she woke up the next morning, Su Zhao opened her eyes to face a dangling pearl necklace and a merman lamp.
She finally put the pieces together.
So last night, the chaotic dream she had all the way to the end featured a real, living culprit.
Su Zhao: (She remained silent).
Damn it all.
Experiencing those bizarre dreams was clearly a side effect of the magic array inside the room and all those messy, exotic treasures.
Yet even now, Su Zhao still couldn’t recall exactly when Cynthia had returned. How she had managed to carry her upstairs, or when she had left again.
What a massive loss.
Su Zhao groaned inwardly with deep regret and remorse. Sharing a bed with a gorgeous older sister was a rare occurrence, yet she couldn’t remember a single bit of it.
Such a huge waste!
Surveying the room and finding no trace of Cynthia, Su Zhao had no choice but to swallow her overflowing regret and throw off the blanket to get up.
Cynthia was still nowhere to be found early in the morning.
Su Zhao wandered all around, unable to locate her. Attendants watched her vigilantly every step of the way, strictly forbidding her from leaving.
Left with no choice, Su Zhao sat on the balcony swing, gazing longingly into the garden she had sneaked back into earlier.
Staring at it with eyes full of regret and drool.
From the gardeners to the magical plants.
All of them trembled under her placid gaze.
No matter how vast a palace was, being trapped inside meant Su Zhao had thoroughly explored every nook and cranny by the end of the day.
With Cynthia continuously absent, Su Zhao was the undisputed queen of this domain. As long as she chose not to step outside, the maids inside the palace would cater perfectly to her every whim, no matter how capricious.
Of course, the only unfortunate detail was that the garden—which possessed legs and could run around on its own—also counted as “outside” due to its numerous exits being convenient for escape.
No matter how much Su Zhao craved her moonflower, the absolute furthest she could go was standing atop the palace roof, staring wistfully at her flower without ever managing to actually retrieve it.
“…Sigh.”
This marked Su Zhao’s one hundred and first sigh of the day.
The maids silently stared at their own toes while the line of attendants remained motionless as statues, having long grown accustomed to this absent-minded state of their princess.
She harbored a lingering illusion, constantly feeling as though she resembled a canary carefully caged by Cynthia.
Surrounded by extravagant decorations, restricted to a tiny patch of sky above, her every move subjected to the scrutiny of another’s gaze.
Or perhaps, a kept beauty hidden away in a golden house?
Su Zhao actually quite liked that phrasing.
Why hadn’t Evelyn returned yet?
Cynthia also had no time to keep her company.
Lacking good sisters to accompany her, Su Zhao completely lost her motivation, counting the days on her fingers and finding life utterly dull.
Since idleness breeds contemplation, Su Zhao simply decided to sort through her recent quests, organizing her newly unlocked side quests in order of importance.
At the very top of her priority list was figuring out a way to bypass Cynthia’s obstruction, hand the invitation letter over to Evelyn, and complete her very first dating quest.
Taking another step closer to sweet romance!
Secondly, acquiring the moonflower, gathering the materials, and brewing the antidote for the love curse.
Yet to acquire the moonflower, she first had to subdue that thorny magical plant blocking the path.
As Su Zhao pondered this, she experienced a sudden epiphany, realizing she had been approaching the problem from the wrong angle.
Why bother subduing the magical plant?
She was clearly capable of subduing the plant’s owner!
Just as her train of thought grew clearer, a commotion erupted at the entrance.
Su Zhao finally perked up. “Go check what is going on.”
It was the tailor Cynthia had mentioned the previous day, only arriving today.
The maid reported, “Master Holic felt unwell yesterday and requested a half-day extension, which is why she arrived just now.”
Su Zhao had never heard of this prominent figure’s grand reputation. Seeing the three clothing racks the maids dragged out again, her newly recovered spirit instantly withered away into overwhelming resistance.
“…Trying on clothes again.”
With someone like Cynthia around, she practically harbored psychological trauma toward changing clothes.
Languidly trailing into the main hall, Su Zhao wouldn’t have cooperated at all if she hadn’t feared these people reporting her to Sister. She slumped obediently into a seat, not even bothering to spare the tailor a glance.
Just as she settled in, someone whispered to her secretly, “Your Highness.”
It was the renowned master tailor, followed by her entourage of servants.
Su Zhao perked up, signaling the person over with an inconspicuous wave. Assuming the newcomer was a messenger from the Holy See, she thought to herself that Evelyn truly was reliable, she had moved so quickly to collect the invitation letter!
However…
She hadn’t even finished writing it yet.
Yet as the apprentice following beside the tailor raised her head, she revealed a tear-stained, sobbing smile that Su Zhao found painfully familiar.
“Good day, my dear Princess.”
The hapless auctioneer removed her hat, fully exposing her previously obscured face, which was an absolute tragedy to behold. Her entire face was black and blue, with bruises lining her neck—a truly miserable sight.
Startled and amazed, Su Zhao blurted out, “Why did you get beaten up again?”
The auctioneer’s mouth twitched miserably, her smile uglier than crying as she squeezed a few words through her teeth.
“I… am entrusted by someone.”
She tossed her hat aside. The moment the words fell, accompanying that venting gesture, her emotions appeared to collapse abruptly.
Anger morphed instantly into sorrow; grief surged like a breached dam, flooding her heart as tears fell uncontrollably in heavy patters.
Immediately afterward, she presented a magical contract with trembling hands, speaking through sobs: “I have come to deliver a bill to Your Highness.”
This was a completed magic contract.
The two of them could at least be considered old acquaintances. Seeing an acquaintance whose eyes were flooded with tearful emotion, Su Zhao hadn’t expected her to be so deeply attached to her, and touched her cheek with a twinge of embarrassment.
Waving away the alert maids, she took the document curiously.
The next second.
Her smile froze instantly on her face.
[Beep]
[Complete contract content detected]
[System auto-verification successful]
[Debt binding successful]
[Player’s accumulated debt: 3 billion gold coins]
Su Zhao slowly tightened her grip on the contract: Huh?!
[Scanning and evaluating player assets…]
[The player’s assets are listed as follows:
Three villas in the imperial capital’s noble district, valued at 230 million gold coins total; two luxury carriages crafted from pure gold, valued at 70 million gold coins total; one spiritual plant cultivation garden, one top-tier forging workshop, five ancient magic grimoires…
Total player assets: 1.05 billion gold coins]
[Player asset liquidation complete]
[Asset transfer executed per contract terms]
[Asset owner updated]
[Player’s current accumulated debt: 1.95 billion gold coins]
[Please cherish your feathers and fulfill your debt repayment obligations as soon as possible to avoid triggering penalty mechanisms!]
Goddamn it!!!
Su Zhao’s hands trembled violently.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
When on earth did she owe 3 billion?!