Chapter 24: Blossoming from Decay

If love corrupted by sin is forever beyond redemption, then let us fall together and bloom into flowers!

Xue Zui Ning scrambled out of bed, standing there silently, clutching the hem of her cotton nightdress. While she prayed that the man would finish his sneering laughter and turn to leave, Lu Huai Ning instead approached, lifting her increasingly pointed chin. Forced to look up at him, she heard him ask, “Did tonight’s dinner please you?”

Bristling with anger, Xue Zui Ning’s urge to lash out was stoked by his provocative words, but then his cold voice sounded, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re scheming. If you faint from exhaustion in bed, it’s my pleasure that suffers. I let you eat more so you’d have strength, but you repaid me by vomiting it all up.” He paused, his long fingers gliding from her jaw to the first button of her shirt. “Xue Zui Ning, you’ve done wonderfully.”

His chilling sarcasm made her feel as though the unknown terrors of the night were crashing over her like relentless waves. Her gaze clung desperately to the golden tassels on the bed’s edge, but as he moved, they swayed, stinging her eyes. In this suffocating space, what belonged to her was pitifully little; even her own body must be surrendered without reservation. And her soul? How much longer could she claim that as her own? Perhaps surrender was inevitable—if not this moment, then the next.

As he stripped off her shirt, she shielded her chest, meeting his deep, enigmatic eyes. Her heart clenched into a tight knot, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Shy?” His fingers, cool as ice, lingered over her as though admiring a delicate work of art. “You should know, if there were any marks from another man on this body, I would…” His words trailed off, laced with dangerous anger. “I’d ruin it.”

Glancing at him—he had seated himself at the edge of the bed without her noticing—every nerve in her body seemed hypersensitive. Each of his touches filled her with revulsion, yet there was no escape.

“Look at me!” Lu Huai Ning ordered her to open her eyes, forgetting it was he who had taught her to close them in such moments, to hide from intimacy.

But she kept her eyes tightly shut, teeth biting hard on her lip, hoping to numb all sensation, to shut out every feeling. Yet she could not. His words still reached her, she still felt the helpless plunge of her body into endless softness, his scent seeping into her, and with it, terrifying memories.

His lips traced slowly down her flawless curves, her fragile beauty exposed, as delicate as a flower’s stamen in the wind. Desire surged in his blood, drawing him to her, savoring her softest depths.

Suddenly, startled nearly into leaping away, she felt as though she were offering herself up; he took her deeper, his teeth gently grazing. Breaking free of his grip, she pounded his shoulders, but found herself powerless, her blows meaningless. Defeated, she covered her face and wept.

“Xue Zui Ning, a woman under a man should learn to smile, not cry—do you understand?” Lu Huai Ning pried her hands away, his fingers entwined in her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes, burning like fire beneath the sea.

Yet how could she ignore the anger and resentment hidden behind his clear gaze? Indeed, her beauty was born from such stubborn endurance. In the recesses of his mind, he sneered coldly—mother and daughter, worlds apart.

Smile? When the softest parts of her were treated with such cruelty, Xue Zui Ning felt she hadn’t even the strength left to grieve, let alone fake a smile to please the beast atop her.

She tried to stifle her cries, desperate to preserve a shred of dignity. But the pain was excruciating—a living torture. She’d heard of the infamous tortures of the past, but for a woman, in this moment, his merciless ravaging was the cruelest torment on earth.

His tongue invaded her mouth, stealing her breath, the faint taste of liquor invading her reluctant senses. He found her tongue, tasting eagerly and meticulously, intent on making up in this chaotic night for that hasty, careless encounter.

“Can you feel it?” His wicked voice tormented her. “No matter how much you hate me, your body is always more honest than anything else.”

As her body reached its peak, he gazed at her frightened, fleeing face—seeing again the girl at the piano, the sprite who sought shelter on a rainy night, the woman who once flung red wine in his face.

The night passed in a haze, neither wholly asleep nor fully awake. She awoke from the chaos, sitting up suddenly, clutching her head. The night’s terror, pain, humiliation, and despair all found their voice in a wrenching, anguished cry—but even that was weak, trembling from her throat, echoing in the empty room.

The chamber was cold and still; the man, it seemed, had not even deigned to stay the night. Good.

With bitter self-mockery, Xue Zui Ning pushed herself upright, her body aching. Turning her head, she saw on the bedside table a glass of warm water and two white pills.

She gave a bleak smile, put the pills in her mouth, and, before their bitter taste could spread, swallowed them down with a gulp of water.

Beside the beige tatami, there was a cup of warm milk—brought by Xiao Yu, who knew she had missed breakfast.

The script in her hands had been read countless times. Xue Zui Ning gazed out the window at the freedom beyond, suddenly struck by sorrow. It seemed she had transplanted her reality into the script: the heroine, for the sake of her only beloved, sacrificed all dignity to become a powerful official’s mistress, only to be handed off to others, becoming a glamorous yet sordid plaything of the political world. Her last, most degrading transaction was to be delivered to the bed of her former lover. At last, all her endurance and humiliation shattered, and she used her own blood to mourn the tragedy that was “Blooming in Decay.”

Looking at her desolate reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, she remembered the night when ecstasy crushed her body like a relentless wheel, her consciousness betraying her heart with the sound of surrender. She pointed at her reflection, lips curling in a cold smile. “You whore.”