Chapter 534: 366.
She shook her head, trying not to think about it. She carefully folded her bra and panties, tucking them onto the stool nearby. Since she’d only planned to come for a meal, she hadn’t expected it to be so late, much less to stay overnight. Not having brought a change of clothes, she had to keep both her underwear and outerwear in good condition, as she would need to wear them later or the next morning.
Unable to hold back any longer, she raised her slightly bloodshot eyes to the mirror and once again examined the body that had once been her pride, her treasure—now tainted, violated. White, luminous, tender, almost as if it could dissolve into the water of a swimming pool, so soft and delicate. It wasn’t just the shyest regions of a girl’s body, not just the alluring cherry-like nipples and the cleft of her lower body, but every detail: shoulders, navel, legs—even elbows and knees—so charmingly petite, flawlessly smooth and youthful, seemingly untouched by the traces of imperfection... Yet as she gazed at herself in the mirror, over and over, it felt as if deep within the flesh, beneath the pores, she could perceive filth and corruption, could see the taint of Ishikawa Yue, could even smell his odorous presence.
She knew it was only a psychological effect. She had no choice but to set aside this helpless pain and imagination, letting the scalding water from the showerhead cascade over her body. From the crown of her head to her shoulders, from the swell of her breasts to the curves of her hips, from her thighs down to her delicate feet. Normally, when at home, she would lazily rush through a shower and brush over her body haphazardly. But here, the hot water flowed over her skin as though it could cleanse her more thoroughly, as though it could rinse away some of the torment and anguish, yet it also seemed to serve as a magical, hypnotic liquid, enveloping her...
She turned off the shower nozzle, dried herself with a clean white bath towel, and put on her snug little panties again. As if worried about something, she rummaged through the wardrobe and, as expected, found a clean set of guest silk pajamas. She tried them on; the size was slightly loose for her. But she didn’t want to sleep with her bra on—it was too uncomfortable—nor did she want to sleep naked, the thought making her inexplicably anxious and unsafe. She could only clumsily change into the slightly oversized pajamas before slipping into the snowy, soft bed linens on the two-meter King Size mattress. Instantly, the gentle, soothing embrace of the down bedding, combined with the cool 22-degree room temperature, made her drowsiness even heavier.
She turned off the lights, and the room immediately descended into quiet darkness. Only half the moon hanging over Creek Moon Lake managed to cast a faint sliver of light through the curtains. Covering her head with the blanket, she thought she would fall asleep quickly... Yet in the limbo between awake and dreaming, her thoughts spilled forth, unceasing.
She could certainly pretend, act as though nothing had ever happened.
But it had happened. Everything was already different, wasn’t it?
Underneath the pajamas, she gently hugged her delicate frame with her small arms, pressing her petite breasts tightly together, curling her knees, clamping her long legs shut with all her strength, as if to bury her private parts forever in the muscle-lined interior of her thighs.
This exquisite, beautiful little body—does it still belong to her? The same body she had once stealthily explored for pleasure under the covers, the same body she had secretly admired in the mirror, finding herself irresistibly alluring, adorably charming—the same body she once dreamed of offering to her future husband as a sacred treasure. Does it still belong to her?
The door was locked. But if Li Tong had given Ishikawa Yue a copy of her room card, he could still swipe his way inside, couldn’t he? If he chose to come looking for her after singing karaoke late into the night... Apart from stifling her shame and torment, choking back a muffled, anguished cry with her small hand over her mouth, helplessly letting him violate her delicate, tender body yet again, what else could she do? And perhaps, under his orders and threats, it wouldn’t just be a matter of curling up pitifully to endure his plaything-like ravaging. She might have to actively part her legs, her hands, exposing every hidden fragment of herself for his cruel exploitation. Maybe she’d even need to pose, maybe even perform certain motions, just as she had before that night. Maybe she’d even need to call him "Brother," or "Master," or even "Daddy," uttering degrading titles, humbling herself through obscene names, enduring unbearable humiliation and anguish, all to please this man.
And the saddest thing was, this wasn’t even her greatest fear anymore.
She had struggled with this repeatedly, using her naive, inexperienced young mind to ponder it. Ishikawa Yue was definitively different from those young scions of wealth who tirelessly chased after her at the base... He had done so much to her, so many things, so many schemes, so much care. He had invested so much thought into her meteoric rise, planning her image in secret. Was it solely to heighten the sadistic pleasure of raping her? The fleeting moments when she thought—as absurd as it sounded—that Ishikawa Yue might be in some kind of twisted "love" with her stemmed no doubt from the astonishing and perplexing extremes he devoted himself to.
If she stripped away the part where he had raped her, it would almost resemble the work of a selfless and powerful agent, using methods beyond comprehension to craft her past, manage her present, and construct her future. Yet those terrifying photos... that humiliating violation... and every time she recalled Ishikawa Yue’s whispered, lewd yet threatening command that evening, "Be obedient, absolutely obedient. Submit, absolutely submit," she faintly grasped bits of what might lie beneath.