Whose youth romance story begins with a witch's trial?!

Chang Rong smiled at Natsume An'an and extended his palm, hoping to 'rekindle their friendship' with this girl who he hadn't been able to spend much time with before.

"What? I already said that this kind of talk is so cliché..." Natsume An'an looked at Chang Rong's smiling face, but instead of taking his outstretched hand, she turned her head away and buried herself in her overly fluffy dress.

"……That"

After another period of silence, Natsume Anan took a deep breath and looked up at Chang Rong.

"In that case... do you want... do you want XX...?" Natsume An'an's tone was so light and subtle that Chang Rong might not have even heard An'an's soft question if they weren't in an absolutely quiet space.

"So what is XX?" Chang Rong asked Natsume An'an once again, asking about the meaning of this mysterious code.

"It's...it's...it's that kind of behavior that allows one to have children, to become a mother...!!"

"^q^way!?"

Chang Rong instantly spat out a mouthful of snow.

"Why, why, why are you suddenly bringing this up?!" The white-haired boy hurriedly questioned the gloomy bean sprout beside him, wondering what had gotten into him to cause this situation.

"No, don't misunderstand...! You pervert! Behind the scenes! You monster! I just... I just remembered! Before coming to this prison island, I saw similar works online... It's just a coincidence! Anyway, perhaps, perhaps I unconsciously activated my [hypnosis] ability and accidentally created a prison like this..."

An An tapped Chang Rong with her sketchbook, and after her initial shyness, a somewhat disappointed and depressed expression reappeared on her face.

"After all, our magic can never bring any happiness, only harm, and constantly hurt those around us..."

—Does An'an think the current situation is caused by her magic? But this situation shouldn't have much to do with 'hypnosis' anymore; it's unlikely to be the effect of hypnotic magic.

Um……?

Chang Rong suddenly remembered that when An An was tapping the gold coins with her sketchbook, he seemed to have seen some intriguing sentences.

After much coaxing and cajoling, and being falsely accused of several things, Chang Rong finally gained access to the sketchbook. He also saw the line that had been bothering him—An An's own original pickup line, "I want to open a door in your heart."

Open the door, the door...

If I remember correctly, the door to this room appeared shortly after An'an wrote that line. Is it possible that the trigger mechanism in this room is related to this event?

The thought flashed through Chang Rong's mind, and he immediately asked An An to write a similar sentence.

"Life is like this: you check every day before opening the door to make sure you have your keys, but the one day you forget to check, you'll definitely forget to bring them."

Click!

“What’s the point of writing this stuff—whoa… Oh, the gate really appeared!” Natsume An’an was startled, and the wall in front of them instantly transformed into a gate once again.

However, this 'door' was fleeting. Before Chang Rong could figure out where the handle was, she disappeared from their sight once again.

Although they failed to leave, this action instantly energized the two of them.

After several experiments, Chang Rong was able to basically determine the pattern of this art studio.

The appearance of the 'door' is indeed related to An An's works, and it is also strongly associated with the 'completeness' of the works. Simply put, the more vivid the description, the longer the door can last.

Perhaps the original condition for opening this room was 'drawing', but An An's writing inadvertently violated this rule, which led to the two of them being caught in the trap and brought inside.

In short, if you want to get out of here, what you need to do next is not XX, but to write works that are as vivid as paintings, full of imagery. That's enough!

"So that's how it is, huh... If it's that simple, we're determined to have it!" "As expected of An'an!"

Upon hearing Chang Rong describe the rules, Xia Mu An An immediately puffed out her chest, thinking that this kind of thing was a piece of cake for her, a great writer! Chang Rong also quickly clapped her hands to encourage the great writer.

Half an hour later—

"I...I can't figure it out..."

The writer An An sat at the table, transformed into a fluid steamed bun, her face slumped with a look of utter despair. The sketchboard in front of her contained only three words, including the title 'Chapter One'.

"Come on, An'an, you can do it!" Chang Rong continued to cheer her on from the sidelines.

"I...I must be having no inspiration because the floor is too slippery..." "I'll sand the floor right now!"

"Still no inspiration... It must be that the fake sunlight is too bright..." "I'll use the canvas as a curtain to block the sunlight from the balcony."

"Still no inspiration... It's definitely because my shoulders are sore..." "How's this pressure? Is it okay?"

"Mmm, it feels so good, I'm melting...! But, but I really can't write it down, I guess I twisted my ankle..." "Let me check it for you."

Chang Rong knelt down and took off An An's cotton slippers, revealing her petite feet in white socks. He carefully and gently placed his hands on them, using just the right amount of force to slowly rotate An An's ankles, occasionally kneading the soles of her feet as a way to relax them.

However, aside from seeing An An's adorable expression as she desperately gritted her teeth and suppressed her flushed face to prevent herself from accidentally shouting, the overall progress remained a hopeless zero.

"We... are not writers at all...!"

After getting stuck writing just two characters, Natsume Anan simply threw the pencil aside.

“Don’t worry, An’an. We’ve already found a way to leave here. All we need to do now is slowly write decent works, right?” Chang Rong didn’t put pressure on the literary giant. Instead, she smiled and encouraged him as always, while also asking what else she needed to do to provide An’an with the best writing environment.

However, Chang Rong's tolerance and encouragement became a spur to Natsume An'an, who couldn't write anything at all and called herself a 'writer'.

The white-haired boy who unconditionally believed in and doted on her reminded Natsume An'an of the happiness she once had, the happiness she had destroyed with her own hands.

Natsume Anan, who was already emotionally fragile and sensitive, and was described by Sawatari Coco as "a hopeless, dark, bean sprout landmine girl who can't be dismantled by anyone," once again felt the pressure on herself at this moment.

"You keep saying you're not in a hurry and keep encouraging me... but, but I know you've actually been completely disappointed in me for a long time, haven't you! Anyway, that's just who I am, I can't do anything right, I only cause trouble!"

"An'an? I haven't said anything yet. Calm down first, don't be too anxious—"

"Enough! I, I already knew! I'm no great writer, just a self-deceiving fool... You, if you really want to help me... fine, then—[finish this work for me]!!"

"Well--!"

Before Chang Rong could even stroke Natsume An'an's head, he was momentarily dazed upon hearing Natsume An'an's words, which were filled with hypnotic power, and his gray eyes lost their focus and luster.

"Ah... I, I didn't... I never intended to—"

When Natsume Anan realized that Chang Rong had been hypnotized by her, she finally snapped out of her dark and extreme thoughts, but it was too late. Despite her utter loathing and reluctance to use the magic, she had involuntarily cast it on the boy.

It happened again... I used hypnotic magic once more. This curse-like magic hurt the person who cherishes me the most and cares about me the most.

Natsume Anan covered her face in despair. The tragedy she had always wanted to escape, even sealing her 'ability to speak' to avoid, was now unfolding before her eyes once again due to the influence of the witch's factor.

Natsume Anan was once an ordinary girl who was both unfortunate and fortunate. She was plagued by various illnesses from a young age, and even going out was a problem for her, but she had parents who loved her dearly.

An'an's parents would fulfill all sorts of requests, even outrageous and willful ones. As long as she 'coaxed' a little, her parents would eventually grant her wish.

She was actually quite happy—until one day her parents suddenly froze in place, only responding stiffly when she gave them a 'command'. That's when Natsume Anan realized that those wonderful moments of happiness before weren't a gift, but a curse that belonged to her.

She turned her parents into soulless dolls with her own hands.

Her parents did love An'an deeply, but her "coquettishness" was not the secret to her parents' unconditional and endless pampering.

Those words that she thought were 'whining' were actually Natsume An'an unconsciously activating a spell of 'hypnosis'. Time and again, she unconsciously brainwashed her father and mother, making them fulfill all sorts of her demands, until their personalities and minds were completely lost in the hypnosis, damaged and consumed beyond repair.

Her magic is not omnipotent; those who do not understand her or care about her will not remain immersed in her hypnosis forever.

Only those who deeply love her, believe in her, and pray for her happiness can be completely hypnotized by her magic, becoming a doll that belongs only to Natsume Anan.

In order to obtain her own happiness, she destroyed the happiness she already possessed with her own hands.

……

"Ahhh... I'm like this again, once again..."

Looking into the empty eyes of the white-haired boy in front of her, Natsume Anan realized that he unconditionally trusted and believed in her existence, and was also someone who could be completely controlled by hypnotic magic.

For ordinary people, her hypnotic effect wouldn't be so noticeable. This magic is like some kind of mischievous curse, only inflicting deeper harm on those close to them.

However, if it was just one hypnosis session, it shouldn't be enough to completely damage his mind... If he can really leave this place, then... I must apologize properly...

Natsume Anan consoled herself in this way, at least she just had to wait for Chang Rong to finish the 'work about the door', and then they could leave this secret room.

however--

"...Hmm?"

Natsume Anan tilted her head. Chang Rong, whom she had expected to help her write her novel, was now standing in front of her with a sketchbook in her left hand and a pencil in her right, clearly handing it to her.

"What...what do you mean...? Pfft!?"

Before Natsume An'an could figure out what was going on, the boy, who had been incredibly gentle just moments before, unusually and roughly shoved paper and pen into her arms.

"—"

Chang Rong remained silent, but tapped the table with her hand, gesturing for An An to sit down and continue writing.

"I...I already said I can't write it...! So please don't make me—waaaaaah!!??"

Before Natsume An'an could finish speaking, Chang Rong pressed a bottle containing caterpillars hard against her face and rolled it around.

The caterpillar, visible through the glass jar, seemed like a rolling pin, eager to flatten An'an into a pancake. An'an, terrified of insects, naturally let out a pitiful wail.

"We...we understand...!!"

Seeing that Chang Rong was about to unscrew the lid, Natsume Anan could only sit obediently in the chair and pick up her pen and paper.

"Ugh... I'm lacking inspiration, I need to rest a bit and clear my brain—Waaaaaah!? It hurts so much... Waaaaah!?"

Upon hearing that An'an needed rest and relaxation, Chang Rong immediately and gently massaged her temples, causing the poor child to let out an incredibly energetic groan.

"I...I need some fresh air—Waaah! Don't pull my clothes! This isn't how you breathe, I...I don't need it anymore...!!"

Upon hearing that An'an needed some fresh air, Chang Rong immediately prepared to use An'an's overly loose robe as a bellows to blow air, which frightened An'an so much that she quickly surrendered.

"We... lack the urge to stimulate our thoughts—Eek!? Wait, wait a minute... this, this... we're not ready yet... Waaah!?"

An An regretted her excuse the moment it came out. Lacking excitement, she was immediately embraced from behind by Chang Rong, who gently bit her earlobe, licked her neck with his tongue, and poked her waist with his fingertips. The stimulation was so intense that An An collapsed onto the table, unable to do anything but pant with her tongue sticking out and her face flushed.

"I...I quit! I can't write it, I can't write it! Anyway, I've never finished any work! Kill me or do whatever you want, I— Waaaaaah!? No, don't come any closer, I was just joking...Help, help!! I was wrong, I'm sorry...Please forgive me... Waaaaah!? Spare me...! Waaaaah!?"

"No, no, you can't treat me like this!? You...you...you perverted monster...Waaaaah!? I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I was really wrong, I'll never do it again...Waaaah...!!"

Pushed to the limit, An'an completely exploded, slamming her pen down to declare she was quitting. However, the next second, she was dragged over by a pair of large, tangible hands. Without a word, Chang Rong pressed the writhing, slug-like An'an against him, lifting the layers of lace skirt to reveal her soft, fleshy buttocks, marred by years of inactivity. Without further ado, he transformed his fists into palms and began playing Taiko no Tatsujin (a popular Taiwanese drumming trope).

At first, An'an was still stubbornly shouting, but after being slapped twice, she immediately turned into a wail of "Even my mom and dad have never hit me!" But she quickly realized that crying was useless and that she had to time her crying.

Only after An'an dropped all her little pearls and cried and begged for mercy, promising to write diligently and never give up, did Chang Rong finally let her go. Then, she gently handed her a cushion and said, "Princess, please start writing."

"Pervert, conspiracy, monster, sadistic man, pervert...!!" Natsume Anan sniffled as she channeled her grief and indignation into inspiration, sketching furiously on her sketchpad.

When she came to her senses and emerged from her 'flow' state, she had already finished writing a complete short story. It was a story about a boy who accidentally entered another dimension and searched for the door to his hometown through countless doors.

"This... did I write this myself...? It didn't have a bad ending or get abandoned; it's a well-written story..."

An'an stared at the manuscript in her hand in disbelief, while at the same time, she felt a gentle pat on the head.

"If you want to, you can do it. I knew you'd be a really great writer, An'an, you just need to push yourself a little sometimes, right?"