Upon Her Lips - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

In a dimly lit room, under the swaying shadows of candlelight, two figures were intertwined.

The woman on top, with hair cascading down and eyes of a brilliant grey-gold, bit and tore at the person beneath her with frantic intensity. Her sharp fangs dragged across the skin, leaving trails of pale red welts. If one ignored the scars and bruises littering the body of the woman beneath her, she was a person of perfect beauty.

The black-haired woman let out a sharp, pained intake of breath. Instantly, the woman on top stiffened. The lust in her eyes died, replaced by a cold, sinking darkness.

“Did I not tell you,” she whispered, her voice dangerously low, “not to make a sound?”

“No… please, forgive me, I just—” Fear flooded the black-haired woman’s eyes, and tears began to spill over.

Seeing this, the woman on top suddenly became tender. She reached out, almost obsessively, to caress the trembling woman’s cheek, wiping away the tears with her thumb. “If only she could make an expression like yours… how wonderful that would be. But unfortunately, your voice still doesn’t sound like hers.”

As the words fell, her hand moved to the black-haired woman’s throat. “Sleep now, my Mu Fei.”

The woman whose throat was being crushed could only stare up at the terrifying creature above her, unable to utter another sound.

Campbell Ci looked down at the now lifeless body. She climbed off the bed with clinical indifference, threw on a robe, and sat on the sofa. Her grey-gold eyes were void of emotion, even though she had just personally ended the life of a perfectly good outlet.

The woman had only been valuable for her face; the moment she made a sound, she became an irritation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Campbell Ci tapped her finger, signaling entry. Mei Luo entered, head bowed. “The information you requested,” she reported, sensing that only one person in the room was breathing.

Miss Laizhi, the master’s underground mistress and a formerly brilliant violinist, was dead. She had been kept for one reason: her face. A face that bore a striking resemblance to the head of the Mu family.

“Is she a servant’s kin?” Campbell Ci’s cold voice snapped Mei Luo back to reality.

“This girl,” Mei Luo reported, “is said to be the kin or blood relative of a servant named ‘Auntie Dai’ in the Mu household. She appeared less than two months ago and is currently working at the Mu manor.”

Campbell Ci looked at the meager file and sneered. “A mere servant’s kin? Why do I find her scent so strange?”

“What do you mean, Master?”

“Repulsive. Like the stench of a swamp,” Campbell Ci hummed. The last time she had used that description was for those “short-lived” (human) witches who practiced clumsy curses—vile things that had been ground into the mud during the Great Purge. “Let it be for now. I think it’s time I visited Mu Fei. I’ve missed her.”

…

“Hey, brat, you’re slacking again.”

Han Sheng’s teasing voice echoed from above. You Ran quickly covered her sketchbook. She stood up and pointed at the kitchen. “Teacher, I… I have already… finished… cleaning.”

Han Sheng looked around. The massive kitchen was so clean it looked renovated. The floors were bleached white, the utensils were aligned with military precision, and even the years-old cobwebs in the rafters were gone. He truly couldn’t find a reason to complain.

You Ran was masks her scent with the necklace, but her performance surpassed that of many vampire children. She was disciplined, responsible, and meticulous.

“So, what were you secretly drawing?” Han Sheng asked.

You Ran shyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hair had grown longer, and everyone said she was getting taller. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

Ever since she saw the faces on the chocolates at the festival, she wanted to draw. She wanted to draw the Lady. If she could draw her well enough, she could put her face on a chocolate and give it to her as a gift.

“Oh? Not even going to show your teacher?” Han Sheng closed his one good eye, pretending to be hurt.

You Ran grabbed his sleeve. “T-Teacher, no… I’ll… I’ll show you.”

Han Sheng smirked internally, knowing his disciple’s soft heart. He looked at the sketchbook. It was a face nearing completion—Mu Fei. The cold, ethereal essence of the Lady was captured perfectly in the eyes.

“Who is this?” he asked playfully.

You Ran looked at the drawing and sighed. “If even… even Teacher… can’t tell… then I must have… failed.”

“If I had to guess,” Han Sheng laughed, “it’s your Lady Mu Fei.”

You Ran’s eyes lit up. “Teacher, do you… think… it looks like her? Like the Lady?”

“I think it’s very accurate,” Han Sheng mused. “Though she looks a bit gentler here than she does in person.”

“The Lady… is… originally… very gentle,” You Ran whispered.

Han Sheng gave her a look that said she was clearly hallucinating. “When are you going to show her? I’d love to see her face when she sees this.”

You Ran turned pink. Han Sheng patted her shoulder. “I’ll give you some time to finish. But we have to go fishing for carnivorous fish this afternoon, so hurry up.”

As You Ran sat in the kitchen, carefully rendering every line of the woman she loved, the sky outside began to change. A thick, ominous fog rolled in. The sun, like a dying patient, vanished below the horizon.

A powerful, undisguised pureblood scent drifted on the wind—a declaration of war, encroaching on the Mu territory.

At the manor gates, Auntie Dai stood firm as the Campbell family arrived. Campbell Ci stepped out of the car, her grey-gold eyes matching the cold mist.

“You must be the head maid, Auntie Dai,” Campbell Ci smiled.

“Grand Duke Campbell,” Auntie Dai replied calmly. “We received no notice of your arrival.”

“I told my dear Mu Fei I would come personally to apologize for my sister’s rudeness. Please, convey my sincere request to enter.”

Auntie Dai knew the strength of the Campbell family and the ruthlessness of the woman before her. This “visit” was a provocation. She sent word to Mu Fei. Moments later, the gates opened. Mu Fei would see her—but only her.

Inside the study, the door was left ajar, but the atmosphere was suffocating. Mu Fei didn’t invite her to the parlor; a clear sign she wasn’t welcome.

“I wonder what brings the Grand Duke to my humble home,” Mu Fei said, turning to face her.

Campbell Ci ignored the question, wandering around the room. “Hasn’t changed a bit since I was last here.” She reached for a pen on the desk, but Mu Fei clamped a hand over her wrist.

“Has no one taught you not to touch things that aren’t yours?” Mu Fei stared at her with pure loathing.

Campbell Ci chuckled, ignoring the pain in her wrist. She leaned in close. “Mu Fei, I am here to apologize. For my sister, and for myself. The banquet was too crowded to speak… but mostly, I came because I missed you.”

Mu Fei held the pen just 0.01 centimeters from Campbell Ci’s exposed throat.

“You can’t kill me. Pain means nothing to me, my Mu Fei,” Campbell Ci grinned. She tilted her head, inhaling the scent of Mu Fei’s hair. She was exhilarated.

…

You Ran knew nothing of this. She had finished her drawing—the most beautiful thing she had ever created. Her teacher said the Lady would be happy.

She scurried toward the study, clutching the book. She didn’t see Auntie Dai or the others, which was strange, but her heart was too full of joy to care. She reached the semi-open door.

“Lady…”

The sight made her pupils contract. Mu Fei was pinned to the floor by Campbell Ci.

“Get out,” Mu Fei commanded, turning her head to the shadow at the door.

You Ran bit her lip, wanting to rush forward.

“I said, get out.”

At the second command, You Ran’s body stiffened. She glared at the woman with the grey-gold eyes with a burning intensity she had never felt before. Finally, she was forced to retreat.

Standing outside the door, clutching the now-crumpled sketchbook, You Ran stared at the floor. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nails dug deep into her palms until they drew blood.