He nodded. “Yes, I promised you.” He gazed at her with burning eyes, as if swearing he would keep this promise.
She had also promised him, entrusting her life to his hands. She stiffly moved her legs and stepped into the room. She couldn’t remember if she had been tortured and humiliated in this room; almost every room had her bloodstains. Now the room was cleaned up, showing no signs of those gruesome marks, but every scar on her body seemed to be awakened, screaming in agony…
He sat in a chair, his ice-blue eyes quietly watching her.
She stood alone in the center of the room, suddenly bursting into tears, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. He got up from the chair and walked in front of her. He was so tall; as she cried, she buried her head low, her frail body barely reaching his chest. His warm palm gently touched her cheek, and she could hear her own heartbeat and his breathing. His long fingers began to caress her soft lips, then slid along the side of her neck down to her shoulder. The collar of the black sweater she wore was high, made of coarse wool, but when he touched that sweater, it felt as if he were holding the most exquisite and fragile porcelain. His hand lingered behind her shoulder, applying more pressure. She swayed like water plants in the water, drifting toward his chest with his strength, only to be pushed back by her own resilience. She lowered her head, her tears had stopped, allowing him to declare his absolute possession of her with both hands.
Through the woolen dress and his uniform, she could feel his body yearning for her; he was silently expressing his inner desire with his body. She couldn’t help but tremble softly. He tightly wrapped her frail body in his embrace.
In an instant, he released her, politely nodded to her, and then hurriedly left, as if there was something urgent he needed to attend to.
As his footsteps left the room, she hurried to close the door, keeping him out. Her body had been breached by him countless times, but the door to her heart remained forever closed, fortified and indestructible. Now, she didn’t understand why he no longer touched her body. His fingers gently tapped on the door, and her heart trembled violently at the “thud thud” of the knocking.
“Good night,” he said to her from outside the door.
Khanyi stood there in a daze, unsure of what he intended to do to her. This unknown fear was even more suffocating. She instinctively looked out through the tall window and saw his tall figure walking straight into the courtyard, climbing into the driver’s seat of the car and starting the engine again. The guards opened the gate for him, and the car lights disappeared into the dark night.
Staring at the endless darkness, Khanyi felt even more lost and helpless. Although she didn’t know where he had gone, his departure meant she was temporarily safe. However, she didn’t want to stay in this room any longer; she felt she was more suited to live in the basement, where her heart felt relatively more secure.
Khanyi tiptoed down the stairs, gently pushed open the iron door to the basement. The door was not locked. She instinctively covered her nose with her hand to block the musty smell, but the sight before her astonished her.
The entire room had been thoroughly cleaned, with no clutter, no dust, no cobwebs; everything was neat and tidy. The lighting was no longer dim and obscure but replaced with bright incandescent lights. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the bed made of a door panel and iron frame against the wall. The bedding hadn’t changed much, with a thin blanket, an old pillow, and a few worn clothes she had passed through, along with the neatly folded black-and-white maid’s uniform at the foot of the bed. Just like in the attic room, she had seen almost nothing there, except for a few plain long dresses in the wardrobe, some of which still had tags attached.
There was one particularly special pink “short skirt,” its hem torn but pressed flat, hanging there looking somewhat ridiculous. They all came from Madame Chanel’s boutique… Thinking of those, seeing these, Khanyi sat on the combined bed, a surge of indescribable emotions welled up in her heart, but when her gaze fell on the low half-window, she immediately cooled down.
Early in the morning, Khanyi went to the bathroom, picked up a bucket of water, and began to kneel on the floor to clean it. Abigail suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and quietly asked, “Are you… human or a ghost?”
“Of course, I’m human.” Khanyi raised her head and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Abigail, a bit flustered, ran down the stairs and took a good look at the young, beautiful girl with black hair and black eyes in front of her. “Oh my God, you really are alive! But why did you come back here?”
“I have a request for him.” Khanyi smiled at her with her dark eyes, giving a very simple answer.
“My God, this world must be crazy.” Abigail shook her head and walked back up the stairs.
This world must be crazy… Khanyi murmured Abigail’s words, burying her head to continue scrubbing the floor.
The day passed quietly and fulfillingly. Khanyi worked tirelessly like a diligent servant, scrubbing the floors, cleaning the rooms, and washing clothes. She had become quite skilled at it, while Abigail always watched her with a scrutinizing gaze but did not interrupt her.
After a whole day of work, Khanyi was finally ready to go to bed near midnight. From the basement window, she saw a black car pass the guard post and drive into the yard. This time, it was the driver who got out of the car and walked straight toward the house. The nerves she had finally managed to relax began to tighten again. She seemed to hear him enter the door, followed by the “thud thud” sound of his boots on the floor. It seemed he went upstairs and then downstairs, the footsteps growing clearer…
“Are you going to stay here?”
