The mist in the bathing chamber hung thick as unblended ink, but not even the scalding water could scour away the pervasive stench of filth clinging to Yunxiu.
It was no ordinary dirt.
It was the cold, damp miasma of the latrine pit, the brutal weight of Qin Ruhai's body pressing down on hers, the humiliation etched into her skin by that foul, confined space. The memory of what he had done to her in that tiny, filthy room stabbed into her mind like a needle, vivid and sharp every time she closed her eyes.
She did not hate the pain of the violation.
She feared something far worse—that she was now dirty, forever unworthy of her goddess.
Su Liwan was her deity, the light she had held in her heart and protected with her very blood since the day she was taken in.
Pure as unsullied snow, luminous as the moon over Clear Stream, a being so sacred she feared to even brush her with a fingertip.
And now, she had been defiled by a man, in the filthiest place imaginable.
Hot water rose to her shoulders. She scrubbed at herself frantically, at her neck, her arms, her waist, until every inch burned red and sore, as if she could tear her own skin off. She tried to wash away Qin Ruhai's scent, the stench of the latrine, the unbearable feel of his touch.
But she could not cleanse it.
The dirt had seeped into her bones.
In her daze, visions of the years she had bathed her young lady flooded back.
Amidst swirling steam, Miss Su's skin was white as flawless jade, her shoulders soft, her waist slender, her damp hair sticking to the side of her neck, breathtakingly beautiful, almost otherworldly. She would ladle warm water over Miss Su's back, watching droplets slide down that smooth skin, her own heart racing uncontrollably.
More than a decade.
She knew every inch of her lady's body better than her own.
Those images replayed night after night, etched into her soul—a secret, mad, unspeakable obsession hidden behind the mask of a loyal maid.
She had fantasized a thousand times about holding her lady close, burying her face in her hair.
About brushing her fingertips over Miss Su's brows and eyes, touching those soft, petal-like lips.
But that was a goddess, and she was merely a dog crawling at her feet.
The goddess was pure, holy, untouchable by even a speck of dust.
And now, she was dirty.
Utterly, irredeemably filthy.
Qin Ruhai's voice echoed in her ears, cold as ice:
"Seduce her. If you refuse, I will tell everyone what happened in the latrine. I will make Su Liwan despise you. I will make you lose her forever."
Losing her lady.
Those four words hurt worse than death.
Yunxiu thrashed violently in the water, splashing everywhere. Her mind blurred, and hallucinations began to take hold.
She saw her lady standing in the steam, reaching out a hand to her, her eyes gentle.
She wanted to come closer, but recoiled, hugging herself and trembling.
I'm dirty... I can't touch you... I'll defile you...
But another voice shrieked wildly from the depths of her heart:
I don't care if I'm dirty. I don't care if I'm evil. I just need to stay by your side.
Even if you fall into hell, I will follow.
Even if I'm a vengeful ghost, I will cling to you, my goddess.
Humiliation, terror, and obsession twisted together, driving her to the brink of madness.
She scrubbed and scrubbed until her strength gave out, her fingers wrinkled like prunes, before stumbling out of the bathing chamber.
Her hair was slightly damp, her face deathly pale. On her stunningly cold features remained only brokenness, degradation, and a near-pathological stubbornness.
Night descended heavily. Inside the bedchamber, only a single gauze lantern burned with a dim, yellow glow, casting a soft, warm light.
Su Liwan reclined on the soft couch, her heart in turmoil, hot and restless, unable to find peace.
When Young Master Qin had visited the mansion again that day, her gaze had drifted uncontrollably to his lips.
The last time at the teahouse, it was those same thin lips that had parted, and he had suddenly leaned in and kissed her.
The memory was as clear as if it had happened moments ago—Yunxiu had even been there, watching silently.
He had come again today, but had not drawn near, had not touched her. This left her feeling hollow, the spark he had lit in her churning, itching unbearably the more she tried to suppress it.
Her father had reprimanded her sternly that very day, warning her to uphold the virtues of a proper lady, to have no frivolous thoughts.
She had nodded obediently, but the moment she was alone, those images flooded back unbidden.
Curled up on the couch, fingers twisting a silk handkerchief tightly, she whispered to herself almost inaudibly:
"...I must not."
"I can't think about this anymore... It's wrong. I'm dishonoring Father."
"How can I keep dwelling on such things... I'm shameless."
She fought to suppress it, to endure, telling herself over and over to be dignified, proper, obedient.
But the more she suppressed it, the more the itching longing grew wild. The more she blamed herself, the more uncontrollably she replayed that kiss.
The more she endured, the more chaotic she became. The more she held it in, the more it hurt. She felt like a string stretched to its limit, on the verge of snapping.
A soft knock sounded at the door. Yunxiu entered.
Her demeanor was timid, carrying the lingering air of a tragic childhood. Head bowed, her voice was thin and soft:
"Miss, I can't sleep tonight. My heart is filled with fear.
I grew up used to being terrified out on the streets... I crave warmth at night. May I stay here and keep you company?"
The moment Su Liwan saw her pitiful state, that taut string inside her softened.
"Come up here."
Yunxiu climbed onto the couch carefully, sitting close and gently tugging at Su Liwan's sleeve, like a lost, helpless puppy.
After a moment of silence, she summoned the courage to speak, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity:
"Miss, Young Master Qin came again today... I saw everything that happened at the teahouse that day.
He... he kissed you, didn't he?"
A deep flush instantly crimsoned Su Liwan's cheeks. She turned her head away, her heart pounding wildly.
She did not deny it. Her flustered, bashful, yet tormented expression was answer enough.
"I've never experienced anything like this. I know nothing," Yunxiu's voice softened further, a humble plea in her tone.
"What does a kiss feel like? I'm so curious."
Su Liwan was rendered speechless, her entire face burning.
Her mind screamed "No!", but her body felt weak, powerless to refuse.
Seeing her reaction, Yunxiu lowered her head slightly, her voice barely a whisper:
"Miss... I want to know too.
Could you... could you kiss me? Just like Young Master Qin kissed you—only a light touch."
Her words were pitiful and innocent, the very picture of someone worthy of pity, with no trace of overstepping.
Su Liwan still struggled internally, still whispering to herself "Don't do this."
But the day's longing, her father's repression, her own curiosity, and her obsession with Qin Ruhai—all these emotions converged, finally shattering her last resistance.
As if in a trance, she leaned in and brushed Yunxiu's lips with the lightest of touches.
It was nothing more than a fleeting, superficial kiss.
But to Su Liwan, it ignited something explosive.
In that instant of soft warmth, the thrill from the teahouse and the image of Qin Ruhai from that day violently overlapped.
Her vision blurred for a moment; she could no longer tell who was in her arms.
Her thoughts raced, frantic and confused:
Is this how it felt when he kissed me?
Is his touch as light, as soft as this?
Once the thought took root, it could not be contained.
Her heart beat faster and faster, her breathing grew erratic. What had started as a kiss of pity slowly simmered with heat.
Sensing her stiffness and feverish temperature, Yunxiu asked softly:
"Miss, what's wrong?"
Su Liwan opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused, her voice trembling slightly:
"I... I was just wondering... is this how a man touches a woman?"
The topic had quietly crossed the line of propriety.
A flicker of calculation passed through Yunxiu's eyes, but she maintained her innocent facade:
"I don't know either. I've heard people say that only after a man and a woman are intimate... do they have children.
But I don't understand how that happens."
At those words, Su Liwan's face burned with a fierce, scorching red.
It was the most forbidden topic in the inner chambers. Yet, whispered in the dark of night by Yunxiu's innocent voice, it only stoked the fire of her curiosity and restlessness.
"I-I don't know either..."
Yunxiu raised a hand and carefully, tentatively took Su Liwan's. Their fingertips touched, slightly cool and damp.
"Then... shall we try? Just a little touch.
Miss, you can pretend... that it's him touching you."
That single sentence struck at the very core of Su Liwan's deepest, most secret fantasy.
She did not pull her hand away.
In the dim light, she looked at Yunxiu's face, her vision blurring, her mind completely lost to her desires.
It no longer mattered who was in her arms.
She knew only that in this moment, all she could think of was Qin Ruhai.
Their breaths intertwined. Their hands touched gently, and every accidental brush of skin sent a jolt through them both.
The lantern light flickered, softly merging their two silhouettes into one.
After a long while, they finally pulled apart.
Su Liwan fumbled to pull the silk quilt over them, her voice soft and shaky:
"Let's sleep. It's late."
That night was the first time Yunxiu had ever truly slept in the same bed as her lady.
Lying beside Su Liwan, breathing in her familiar, lovely scent, feeling the warmth beside her, Yunxiu's heart felt full to bursting.
She quietly turned to gaze at the peaceful profile of her lady's sleeping face, joy and contentment shining in her eyes, impossible to hide.
Somehow... this wasn't so bad.
Somehow, being this close meant she would never be pushed away, never be abandoned.
Even Qin Ruhai, who had terrified her that day, seemed less fearsome now.
If not for him, she might have forever remained a distant guardian, never able to be this close to her deity.
She inched slightly closer to Su Liwan and closed her eyes, utterly satisfied.
As long as she could stay by her lady's side, nothing else mattered.