Chapter 41【VIP】
Opesa's temples were throbbing, and her mind went blank.
The blank wasn't because Sinderel was a man—that vague suspicion had crossed her mind several times, but she'd brushed it off as an illusion. What truly made her feel so ashamed that her head ached was the awful things she'd done herself.
She remembered when Whisper was just finished, she'd been twirling in this room wrapped in gauze, her waist twisting like a willow branch in the spring warmth. He didn't dare look at her when she tilted her head to ask if it looked good. She remembered how she'd snuggled into his bed at night, clinging to his back like dough, his whole body tense as a bow, and she'd laughed at him for being even more conservative than she was. She remembered how she'd loved teasing him, deliberately sticking to his arm to see the tips of his ears turn red until they dripped blood—it turned out he wasn't conservative, he wasn't a lesbian, he was just enduring, enduring a man's...
She always wrapped herself up tightly, and she only touched one piece of clothing belonging to "Opesha" in the wardrobe, and that was at the system's request.
Except for that time, it was when I tried the products myself for the development of Secret Language.
She thought that no one except the painter could see her sexiness, but in fact, the man hiding beside her had already seen every inch of her.
What kind of terrifying memory is this?
The belated shame instantly dried up Opesa's sanity, and her cheeks were so hot that they could boil eggs.
Everything had a traceable path, from the initial feeling that his height was not right, to the accidental touch of his Adam's apple, and his amazing physique and terrifying identity, all of which clearly hinted that he was a man.
Those teasings she was forced to endure, those humiliations she took for fun, now all turned into whips, lashing her spine over and over again.
She could even remember the warmth of the back of her hand when it brushed against her Adam's apple. At the time, she thought it was just the friction of fabric, but now it felt like a red-hot iron, leaving a deep mark on the palm of her hand.
The most ridiculous thing was never his gender, but that she, under the guise of being a "mother", revealed her most unbearable greed and bad taste in the eyes of a man.
And she really enjoyed it.
This was what made her most desperate.
She took that as his tsundereness and completely ignored all the hints he gave.
In fact, Xindrell had already given the answer, but she didn't think about it. She was only thinking about how to use him and how to see him feel awkward.
Looking back, he had never called her mother. He had long since stopped thinking of her as "Mrs. Opesa" and instead referred to her as Jian Yue.
This feeling—it's so shameful.
The truth sent adrenaline rushing through her body, leaving Opesa's brain in a state of chaos, unable to utter a single word.
To please him. Using Jian Yue's identity.
But she didn't understand why he had to hide his gender.
Her jaw was pinched again, and her reaction angered Sinderel. He stared at her with a dangerous look in his eyes. "What are you waiting for?"
Her silence made Xindrel even more uneasy.
He had betrayed his oath, thrown away the chance to atone for his sins and enter heaven, and rejected the only reason to stay with Opesa. Why didn't she react at all?
He and she can no longer have a relationship in name only.
He also doesn't want to be an obedient and well-behaved "child" anymore.
He wants to be a man again and get the rights he deserves.
Drugging, betrayal, handing her over... He could forgive them all, as long as she acted like she needed him. He only wanted this, as long as she didn't abandon him.
The calm gaze stung his eyes. He tried hard to toughen his attitude and pick up the male dignity that had been thrown away long ago. As long as she acknowledged his existence as a man, he would immediately give up the idea of killing Henry and follow her again to accomplish what she wanted.
Except leaving.
Yes, as long as you don't leave...
As long as she fulfills the vows she made before the priest, that's all.
"How do you want me to please you?" Opesa spoke up. "You can't even explain why, and you won't tell me why you're hiding your identity."
She was just curious, curious about everything about Sinderel.
Those scorching green eyes glowed brightly, like the pupils of a wild beast stalking in the dark, alertly capturing every movement of its prey.
The look was too bold and direct, as if it could pierce through her with its eyes in the next second. Opesa swallowed unconsciously.
She just wanted to ask why, why was he looking at her like that?
Did she say something wrong? She was the one who should be angry. She had secretly watched everything from behind. Why should he be angry?
He didn't even want to give her a reason.
"Because I killed her." Sinderel tightened his fingertips and pinched her tender cheek. "I swore that I would live on in her place."
"who?"
"..." His cold and silent face, which had remained unchanged for thousands of years, finally revealed a trace of pain, like the darkness in the cracks of a glacier. "Annie Brand."
I searched through my memory of Anne Brandt's novels and finally fished this person out.
She is a character who appears in less than one chapter and dies in the protagonist's memory. She is the biological daughter of her husband, Brand, and the stepsister of Sinderel.
In fact, it is clear without much thought that the cause of her death is definitely not that simple.
"Her death is my fault." His heart was suffocating calmly. Whenever he thought of this, he felt pain everywhere. "She was the only person who was good to me. Kill her."
Ever since he was bought by Brand and became a servant to take care of Anne, he was forced to see the unknown darkness beneath this seemingly perfect family.
He still remembered the days when the madman sent his wife and daughter as "playthings" to please the powerful, driving his wife crazy and making his daughter sick.
Although she was in great pain, his sister always had a smile on her face, softly pulling his arm and acting coquettishly, pestering him to read stories to her.
The first story they heard was about a fairy who brought the princess back to life. It was short and very strange, but Anne loved it very much and said he was the best brother ever.
They clearly have no blood relationship.
But he didn't want to see her being tortured like this, so he chose to disguise himself as her sister, picked up the butcher knife, and killed those who humiliated her.
That was the first time Brand praised him. He was in the upper seat, and he was not afraid of the dagger on his neck. Instead, he praised him:
"The chosen one is indeed the most brutal and the one who deserves the most sin."
He suddenly felt sick and did not kill the man for fear of dirtying the knife.
But his sister still died of a serious illness - that's what he originally thought, until he accidentally saw the medicine his sister often took in the study. He took it and sniffed it. He smelled the scent of a chronic toxin that the trading house often used to poison its opponents. Then he realized that it was he who killed his sister.
He is not a good brother at all, but the chosen son of God who brings disaster.
Everyone is the same, starting from the Colosseum in the trading house. Anyone who gets close to him will die. Everyone tries not to get close to him with awe and disgust.
He wanted to kill Brand, but Brand raised his hands and laughed wildly.
"Kill me, and I will receive the blessing of that great man and follow him forever!"
The sound stung his eardrums. The so-called fate had already entangled his feet. He was destined to be unable to escape or cut the vines.
Everyone will die, and no one can save him. With this thought in mind, Sinderel swore at his sister's grave that he would live on for her.
She was not supposed to die here. It was because of me that she was lying here alone.
He walked into the devastated forest, his eyes empty, living like a zombie.
The dagger absorbed the sins brought by human life and weighed heavily on him.
Until she appeared, he once again felt that substance called hope that could not exist. If she had broken the rules of the world and come here, perhaps she could make him completely forget everything in the past and live a normal life again.
They have no blood relationship, and neither of them admits to any relationship.
But he regained consciousness.
He would still hurt her because he himself couldn't cross that gap and broke his oath.
The other person's eyes were still emotionless and unwavering as they looked at him. He suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, and the passion he had felt before was dampened by reality.
What he relied on and was obsessed with was the completely unknown soul within the body, but he had no way of following her and going to her world with her.
To please a faithless person?
His fingers trembled suddenly and released the other person's cheek.
But her hand was held by the other person again, stroking his fingertips carefully, and finally inserting it into his fingers, exchanging the temperature of her palm with him.
These hands were usually hidden in her sleeves, and she had only looked at them carefully a few times.
A very big, very beautiful hand, with white fingers as thin as bamboo, with clear edges and corners, and thin calluses on the fingertips, which were caused by using a knife to do daily work.
As a hand control person, she likes it very much.
Thinking of this, she couldn't help but pull him over and kiss his fingertips.
His breathing and vision were disordered, and an indescribable numbness suddenly felt like silver needles pricking him repeatedly. He wanted to pull his hand away, but he greedily felt the warmth.
"Are you afraid?" Opesa looked at his miserable expression and pointed out his thoughts. "You asked me to do this."
"...It's not necessary now." He was holding back something, squeezing out the words with great difficulty, "Let go."
Although she said no with her mouth, her body betrayed her again and was unwilling to let her go no matter what.
Opesa blinked. "Really?" She clasped his hand and kissed the back of it.
The lips were soft, yet pressed deep, the delicate breath brushed across the fur, tickling the thin skin, and the veins on the back of the hand bounced with pleasure.
It was a pleasure that seeped directly into his brain, and he could feel it without any reaction.
Opesa kept observing his expression. His breathing was heavy, his pupils were bright and scary, the soft green turned into a bright green like a wild wolf, and his face was unnaturally red.
Somewhat... cute.
She suddenly felt a little evil, and her lips moved down to kiss his wrist.
Sinderel's reaction was even more intense. He clasped his fingers tightly around hers, forcing Opesa's fingers back a little.
It hurts a little, but it's more exciting.
Opesa felt like she'd been infected with madness after spending so much time with him that she'd actually thought this way. She was thinking about how to tease him next, her attention slowly focusing on the other person's gently bitten lips.
However, before she could get close, the other party forcibly retreated out of her reach.
Sinderel hung his head, his whole body trembling, and his voice changed: "You don't have to do this, I won't kill you."
Opesa had no other thoughts and said puzzledly, "I know you won't kill me." She tried to get closer, but as soon as her hand touched his foot, he jumped back as if he had been electrocuted. Opesa was a little unhappy, "What's wrong with you?"
"I won't kill Henry, so you don't have to force yourself to get close to me." But the answer he got was an attempt to change the subject.
Opesa frowned: "I didn't force it..."
"You'd better leave." Xindrell interrupted her coldly, using reason to suppress those wildly growing emotions. "You will die here."
He simply couldn't let it go and now he has broken his oath.
He was always treated as an outsider, and negative eyes always surrounded him, and so was she.
He could always see the fear in people's eyes clearly, no one was special.
"Sinderel." He heard her calling his name, and his wandering eyes finally focused and turned to her.
"You like me, don't you?"
Sinderel neither confirmed nor denied.
"Heh..." Opesa laughed sarcastically, "What a pity! I will never accept the kindness of a loser."
"If you immerse yourself in an ideal world, cover your ears and escape, and use empty morals to kidnap yourself, then please don't say you like me."
Opesa lowered her long, crow-feather eyelashes and didn't even bother to look at him.
“—I would feel disgusted.”
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