After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 26

This impromptu escape attempt ultimately failed.

Song Shizhou comforted herself inwardly, there was no rush to flee, after all. Miss Bai wasn’t the type of lowlife who’d resort to illegal confinement. Watching Bai Ruowei’s face flush slightly from agitation, Song Shizhou thought, Someone as proud as Miss Bai would surely back off after being rejected a few times, too embarrassed to persist. Expecting her to cling desperately? Might as well wait for the sun to rise in the west.

Hadn’t she just tried to run away once? Yet it had already thrown Bai Ruowei into such disarray. If Song Shizhou really left for good, who knew what extreme actions Miss Bai might take?

Perhaps it was better not to push Bai Ruowei too far.

Though the chase hadn’t drained much of Miss Bai’s stamina, she still looked utterly exhausted—her steps unsteady, nearly stumbling, her face flushed from the turmoil. Even those always-brilliant eyes seemed dimmed.

When had Bai Ruowei ever been this disheveled?

Suddenly, Song Shizhou wondered—What was Miss Bai’s reaction when I died?

Would she have been as wretched as she is now?

Once the thought took root, it became hard to suppress. Her mind began to wander again. She had to die once to be reborn—so how had Bai Ruowei managed it? If she had followed her here, then she must have also…

Song Shizhou paused, deliberately cutting off the thought.

How Bai Ruowei got here had nothing to do with her. Maybe Miss Bai was just extraordinary—maybe she closed her eyes and opened them again, and poof, she’d crossed over.

A shiver ran through Song Shizhou.

Surely she hadn’t… died too, right?

The hotel at the rest stop was nothing special. Given their late-night arrival, few rooms were left—just one double room and two singles.

The double was far better furnished: a desk, a coffee table, a sofa, a private bathroom, and even a window that could open.

The singles, however, were dismal—windowless, like prison cells.

Mia suggested, “Miss Bai and Miss Song can share the double. Li Ningzhi and I can make do with the singles.”

They’d slept in worse places during missions, and neither Mia nor Li Ningzhi was particularly fussy. This arrangement made the most sense. Mia glanced at Bai Ruowei, awaiting her approval.

But Miss Bai looked weary, her gaze flickering as she took one of the single room keys.

“The journey’s been rough. You’ve all worked hard and deserve proper rest. I’ll take the single.”

With that, she turned and walked away without another word.

Her retreating figure seemed… dejected.

Left alone in the lobby, the three of them exchanged glances. Li Ningzhi scratched her head.

“That won’t do. Miss Song has a poor sense of direction—what if she sneaks out in the middle of the night and gets lost?”

Though the implication was clear—keeping an eye on the hostage—Li Ningzhi’s sugary tone made it sound mocking. Song Shizhou rolled her eyes internally.

Mia hesitated too. Neither she nor Li Ningzhi had the nerve to share a room with Miss Bai’s wife.

“Then Li Ningzhi and I will take the double,” Mia conceded helplessly.

“Miss Song, please endure this one night.”

Mia had installed infrared sensors in Song Shizhou’s room. If she attempted to escape or leave, Mia, as the receiver of the sensors, would detect it immediately.

Whether this counted as surveillance was something Shi Zhou no longer cared to dwell on. After all, she had a history of running away. Miss Bai had gone to great lengths to capture her again—if she were to escape so easily, wouldn’t that tarnish Miss Bai’s brilliant and formidable image?

Right now, she just wanted to rest. Whether there were infrared sensors at the door had little bearing on whether she could get a good night’s sleep.

After the room keys were distributed, everyone retreated to their own rooms. The single rooms were indeed modest—no more than a dozen square meters at most. The moment you stepped inside, you were met with a narrow single bed, the sheets faintly carrying the scent of mildew. Shi Zhou thought about opening a window to air out the room but then remembered there weren’t any windows.

The bathroom was a small space partitioned off by a glass door, the smell from the drain unpleasant. Shi Zhou didn’t feel like showering. After a quick wash, she lay down on the bed.

She wore a hoodie and pulled the hood tightly over her head. The hotel bed was a bit too firm, making it hard to fall asleep. The scent of lavender detergent clung to her clothes, reminding her of the faint herbal fragrance that always lingered around Lan Chi. She closed her eyes, replaying the events of the past few days. In just one month, she had experienced more than she had in twenty years of her previous life. The memory of leaving the Inner City on the train felt as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. Then she had arrived in the Thirteenth District, followed by Flying Bird Town…

She buried her face in the pillow, deliberately forcing herself not to think about it.

The exhaustion from days of travel soon pulled her into sleep. The rest area was silent in the early hours of the morning, save for the faint rustling of small animals rummaging through trash bags.

Then, a crisp click sounded at the door.

It was the sound of someone unlocking it with a key.

The intruder moved lightly, tiptoeing like a cat. Unlike Mia, Shi Zhou lacked sharp counter-surveillance instincts—she remained fast asleep, eyes shut tight.

Someone slowly climbed onto her bed, lingering close, pressing against her, before she finally stirred awake.

Bai Ruowei loomed over her, arms crossed against Shi Zhou’s chest, her pale green eyes fixed intently on her.

Shi Zhou jolted awake.

Startled, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Bai Ruowei rested her chin on Shi Zhou’s shoulder and answered with a touch of irritation, “Why can’t I be here?”

Then Miss Bai fell silent.

The crisp, cool scent of laurel overpowered the lavender. Disturbed from her sleep, Shi Zhou felt a flicker of annoyance. Miss Bai nestled against her, resting her head on Shi Zhou’s chest as if intently listening to her heartbeat. Bai Ruowei had never noticed before how soothing Shi Zhou’s heartbeat was—steady, strong, as if it would never stop.

The weight on her chest was uncomfortable. Shi Zhou tried to sit up, pushing Bai Ruowei away.

“You’re heavy.”

Miss Bai refused to budge. Instead, she gripped Shi Zhou’s wrist, pressing even closer.

Their struggle could only be described as a tussle on the bed. In the midst of it, a water bottle fell to the floor with a thud, rolling away with a hollow clatter.

Seated in Shi Zhou’s lap, Bai Ruowei’s mischievous hands froze instinctively.

Shi Zhou tugged at her long hair.

“Pick it up.”

She said it flatly.

“Still waiting for Li Ningzhi to help you?”

Bai Ruowei froze.

Dropping water and picking it up was the most ordinary thing, but coming from Song Shizhou’s lips in that indifferent tone, it somehow carried an air of command.

Her face flushed instantly. Biting her lip, Bai Ruowei got off the bed, bent down, and crouched to pick up the water.

The cascade of beautiful white hair swayed before Song Shizhou, who instinctively caught a strand to play with. The ends were slightly dry from lack of care these past few days. She couldn’t help but think Bai Ruowei resembled a rose—its petals beginning to wither from neglect.

Silence settled between them again. Song Shizhou wasn’t sure how to feel. Could she and Bai Ruowei really coexist so peacefully? Just hours ago, hadn’t they been screaming at each other? Hadn’t Miss Bai been hysterically accusing her? Yet now, here she was, lying so softly in her arms.

A rustling sound followed as Bai Ruowei crawled back beside her. The weight against her chest numbed Song Shizhou slightly. Their proximity was almost skin-to-skin, separated only by thin sleepwear—Bai Ruowei was even wearing the hotel’s provided pajamas. The rough fabric rubbed against her neck, leaving faint red marks in its wake.

The woman’s gaze darkened inexplicably.

“Why haven’t you marked me?”

Her tone was bold, almost demanding.

Song Shizhou laughed in disbelief.

“Why should I mark you, Miss Bai? What exactly is our relationship that I’d need to—”

“Lovers.”

Bai Ruowei stared at her.

Her slender fingers trailed downward, searching until they found Song Shizhou’s hands beneath the sheets. Though the latter resisted weakly, Bai Ruowei wasn’t deterred.

She knew Song Shizhou was just putting up a front. Seeing her exhaustion pained Bai Ruowei deeply, softening her heart. A warmth spread leisurely from her chest, flowing where it was meant to go.

She clasped Song Shizhou’s hand, intertwining their fingers tightly.

“If you agree, we could be wives at any moment—ready to marry.”

Song Shizhou nearly laughed.

“Miss Bai, are you… trying to reconcile with me?”

Bai Ruowei trembled, pressing her lips together firmly.

“Of course not.”

Song Shizhou chuckled but said nothing.

Having denied any intention to reconcile, Bai Ruowei suddenly grew playful. She kissed each of Song Shizhou’s fingertips teasingly, her tongue flicking lightly over them. Song Shizhou endured mechanically, as if Bai Ruowei’s tongue carried tiny barbs like a cat’s. The faint sting surprised her—until she looked down and realized Miss Bai was biting her.

One nibble after another, as if devouring her, both earnest and sensual.

Truthfully, Bai Ruowei hadn’t always been this forward. She’d been inexperienced once. The way she was now?

Song Shizhou had taught her every bit of it.

The more she kissed, the more she craved. Bai Ruowei closed her eyes, her kisses growing lighter, closer.

Song Shizhou distanced herself, rejecting the kiss. But the pheromones dulled Bai Ruowei’s mind, making her overlook the discomfort and refusal in the other’s demeanor.

Gripping Song Shizhou’s collar, Bai Ruowei bit down—hard.

The moment their lips met, control was lost—Bai Ruowei lost control, and so did Song Shizhou. Two Alphas kissing was strange, but in truth, they weren’t two Alphas. One was an Enigma, the other an Alpha—the rarest prey and her exclusive hunter. The sharp pheromones only served to heighten the tension. When had the untouchable laurel ever been so intoxicating? Miss Bai was not one to wear her emotions openly; no one had ever seen her so impassioned before.

A faint sense of conquest stirred in Song Shizhou’s heart. Perhaps she wasn’t the type to yield or submit by nature. There was no out-of-control drink now, no suggestive jazz or ambiguous moonlight—they had even just finished an argument. What began as a lingering kiss gradually turned into a tense, biting struggle. Could she really make Bai Ruowei willingly submit to her mark?

But did she truly want to?

Being driven by instinct was far from pleasant. Song Shizhou let out a muffled groan, brushing aside the long hair obstructing Bai Ruowei’s nape before pressing her sharp canines against the scent gland.

She could feel the tremor in the woman beneath her.

Bai Ruowei turned, gripping Song Shizhou’s collar.

“Song Shizhou, say you won’t lie to me.”

As if bewitched, the Enigma silently kissed Miss Bai’s neck, mechanically murmuring a few hollow words in response.

“I won’t lie to you.”

“Say you… won’t leave me again.”

“I won’t leave you again.”

“Say you…”

“Say you’ll love me like you used to.”

A long, deathly silence followed. The tide of passion, which should have crested effortlessly, abruptly froze midair.

All the warmth from moments ago vanished in an instant. Bai Ruowei felt a chill. The lips at her nape withdrew.

In the silence, only the faintest, most mocking chuckle from Song Shizhou could be heard.

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