The pretty little follower gets targeted by the crazy guys at the elite academy

Li Ruo's pupils suddenly contracted, and her body swayed uncontrollably.

She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into an abyss, and with no way back.

Then Fu Chenzhou reached out and pressed the main switch on the monitoring console.

With a "snap".

The faint sounds of bones being cut, which were recorded in the surveillance footage, have completely disappeared.

The basement fell into a deathly silence.

Li Ruo stared wide-eyed in horror, looking at the switch and then at him.

A madman is a madman.

A devil is a devil after all.

Looking at her expression, Fu Chenzhou's gray eyes flashed with a hint of amusement, his tone carrying a subtle indulgence:

"kid."

That kind of indulgence is like watching an ignorant child, or like spoiling a cat with its fur standing on end.

"Stop imagining such gory scenes."

He withdrew his hand, turned around, and slowly walked towards the door.

The man's back was tall and straight, his silver-gray shirt was without a single wrinkle, his trousers were straight, and his leather shoes made a slight sound as they stepped on the ground.

Even after describing such a bloody scene and saying such cruel words, he remained as composed as a walking sculpture.

He took two steps, then stopped, tilted his head slightly, but did not turn around.

Morning light streamed in from the basement stairwell, casting a faint golden outline on his profile.

"It's dawn."

His voice was flat and emotionless, very calm:

"Go take a shower, change your clothes, and have breakfast with me, how about it?"

It was as ordinary as inviting an ordinary guest.

Li Ruo stood there watching his back.

In the morning light, that figure was half bright and half shadowy.

It's just like him—half elegant, half crazy.

Half gentleman, half devil.

Half of it is terrifying, and the other half is... captivating.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again:

"……good."

Her soft voice was as light as a sigh, but she said okay.

Fu Chenzhou didn't turn around and continued walking forward.

But the corners of his mouth turned up a little more.

-

The manor was shrouded in a thin mist in the early morning.

The mist was very light and thin, like water vapor rising from the rose garden, or like the last lingering dream left over from last night.

Sunlight filtered through the thin mist, turning into a soft gold that bathed every inch of the estate.

The dewdrops on the lawn sparkled, and in the distant rose garden, the flowers were quietly blooming.

There's an unreal tranquility here, as if this world is separated from the outside world by an invisible membrane.

The outside world is noisy, chaotic, and real;

This place is quiet, orderly, and surreal.

Li Ruo was led into a luxurious bathroom by two maids. She was stunned for a moment when the door was pushed open.

The marble floor was so shiny it reflected her image.

The huge floor-to-ceiling windows face the rose garden on the hill behind the manor. At this moment, the morning light shines through the glass, gilding everything with a faint golden hue.

The bathtub is already filled with water.

It was a huge, built-in white marble bathtub, large enough for two people to lie down in.

Rose petals floated on the water, freshly picked from the rose garden, in shades of pink, white, and dark red... floating in the misty steam like a painting.

The rising steam filled the entire bathroom.

The air was filled with a faint, almost imperceptible aroma of essential oils, which smelled like lavender, chamomile, and a touch of citrus sweetness.

It smelled quite similar to her body odor, which was something Fu Chenzhou had considered.

"Miss, please."

Two maids stood respectfully to one side, holding neatly folded bathrobes and snow-white towels in their hands.

They were respectful and calm, as if they were used to doing this kind of thing.

Li Ruo stood there looking at the vat of water, then looked down at herself.

Her body was still stained with blood, some of Zhou Si's, some of her own, and some of someone else's.

The skirt was wrinkled and covered in dust and bloodstains.

Her hair was messy, with a few strands sticking to her face. Her face had the tightness of dried tear stains, as if covered with a transparent film.

The spot on my lip where I bit it is still throbbing.

She stood there, looking at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, feeling disheveled, truly disheveled.

She took a deep breath, then reached out and took off her dirty clothes one by one, throwing them carelessly on the ground.

She stood barefoot on the marble floor, a chill creeping up from her feet. She stepped into the bathtub, and in that instant, the warm water enveloped her body.

It felt warm, like being embraced by something gentle.

She slowly sat down, letting the water cover her shoulders, her neck, and down to her chin.

The rose petals swayed with the ripples of the water, gently brushing against her skin with a soft and delicate touch.

She closed her eyes, letting the hot water wash away the smell of blood.

The lingering smell of blood in her mind—Zhou Si's blood, Jiang Wu's blood, and the blood she imagined from the scenes Fu Chenzhou described.

Hot water washes away those fears, the fears that have been hidden deep in my heart.

She wasn't afraid of death, but she was afraid of the feeling of being torn apart bit by bit. She wasn't afraid of pain, but she was afraid of the pain of those she cared about.

Hot water washed away the anger—the anger towards Fu Chenzhou, the anger towards himself, and the anger at being powerless to do anything about it all.

She submerged herself in the water, completely disappearing into the water.

The sounds and sights outside became blurry and distant, and the smell of blood was replaced by the smell of water.

She didn't know how they were doing now.

She didn't know whether what Fu Chenzhou said was true or false.

That madman, she really couldn't tell when he was telling the truth, when he was joking, and when he was toying with her.

No, he doesn't joke; he only tells the truth.

But his truth is more terrifying than any lie.

Li Ruo popped her head out of the water and looked at the ceiling.

A painting in the Renaissance style adorns the marble dome, depicting angels and clouds in vibrant and lifelike colors.

The angels were laughing, laughing so innocently, so purely.

It's as if they have no idea how dirty, bitter, or hopeless this world is.

She suddenly remembered what Jiang Wu had said: "I want my sister to see what color my heart is."

What a silly child.

His heart must be red, just like everyone else's, only his red is hotter, more intense, and more reckless than others.

She closed her eyes and sank back into the water, this time staying submerged for even longer.

It went on for so long that the oxygen in her lungs was almost gone, until her chest started to ache, until she felt like she was about to drown.

She suddenly surfaced, gasping for air.

She needs the feeling of being alive, the feeling of pain.

She reminded herself that she was still alive, that she hadn't lost yet, that... those six people were still waiting for her.

She cannot die, cannot break down, cannot admit defeat.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she was gently awakened by the maid:

"Miss, the water is cold. We have prepared some clothes for you."

Li Ruo opened her eyes, stood up from the bathtub, and the water gushed down.

Rose petals clung to her body, sliding down one by one with the rolling water droplets, down her slender neck, over her delicate collarbone, across her undulating curves, along her slim waist, and finally dripping from her straight legs onto the floor.

She stepped out of the bathtub, took the bathrobe handed to her by the maid, and wrapped herself in it. The pure white bathrobe was as soft as a cloud and carried a faint fragrance.

She stood there looking at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window: wet hair, a pale face, and skin slightly red from being soaked in hot water.

There were still wet droplets in his eyes.

But his eyes brightened considerably, as if a extinguished flame had been rekindled.

Li Ruo looked at herself in the mirror and a slight smile appeared on her lips.

That smile carried a touch of Li Ruo's unique stubbornness and a resolute clarity.

breakfast?

She wanted to see what kind of breakfast that madman wanted to have with her.