Sylvie, the Slave Girl (Lily Futa) - Chapter 29 (pt. 2)

July 12, evening, the twenty-second day of living with Sylvie.

[ Side Quest: Visit the clothing store with Sylvie at night (Completed ✔). Reward issued~ ]

—

Sylvie had thought Wei Qing wanted to do something, but after that night and morning when they tangled in bed for hours, Wei Qing hadn’t been intimate with her again.

These days, Wei Qing wrapped her tightly in a blanket during noon naps.

She laid contentedly on her side, watching Sylvie bundled like a dumpling.

Ignoring Sylvie’s displeased expression, Wei Qing looked satisfied and said, “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

Sylvie didn’t understand why Wei Qing insisted on her napping at noon, just like she didn’t understand why Wei Qing suddenly brought her to this transformed clothing store—or rather, lingerie shop—to buy things.

At night, they still slept in their separate rooms.

She still couldn’t grasp some of Wei Qing’s actions.

That intense night seemed to have passed like it never happened.

Wei Qing treated her as she always had, casually kind… occasionally awkward.

But why didn’t Wei Qing want her anymore?

Besides her body, what else could Sylvie offer to repay her?

She often sank into her emotions, confused, lost, and pondering.

The summer heat remained dry and stifling, deepening her restless and uneasy emotions, hidden beneath her obedient expression.

About a week passed since that day, and the first rain of the month arrived—a fierce storm.

Heavy rain pounded the windows with a pattering sound.

Sharp lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the dark sky, followed by slow, booming thunder.

Sylvie turned over, burying herself in the blanket, curling tightly into a ball.

–

The thunder roared like it exploded in her ears, stirring memories from what felt like ages ago.

Her previous master before she was sold.

He was an elderly man with cloudy, bloodshot eyes, his expression menacing and terrifying.

He was always shouted, his cane thumping the floor with loud bangs.

Before, there was a storm raging outside, lightning illuminating his furious face, the thunder mixing with his angry yells.

It terrified her, making her tremble uncontrollably.

“Sylvie! You…”

The hard cane struck her body harshly.

Her small frame curled into a ball.

At ten years old, she hadn’t yet learned to endure pain.

Her body shook, and she let out weak, pitiful pleas.

“Don’t… don’t hit me anymore… Master, I was wrong… Please, please, I was wrong…”

Though she hadn’t done anything, the old man was merely venting his frustrations from daytime dealings.

A fallen noble, he always took small losses to keep business smooth with the new elite.

She instinctively shielded her head.

The blows landed hard on her arms and back, followed by stinging pain.

But the old man seemed angrier.

He threw down his cane, grabbed her hair, and dragged her outside.

“You little filth… dirty slave… you dare dodge…”

The pain of her scalp being yanked felt vivid again.

The wet, rough steps bruised her neck.

The old man stopped at the door, throwing her onto the muddy, rain-soaked ground outside.

The storm continued.

Rain instantly soaked her thin dress, clinging to her body.

Her unevenly cut hair stuck wetly to her face.

Rain blurred her eyes.

Thunder roared in her ears.

Lightning struck nearby with a deafening boom, mixing with the old man’s indistinct curses as he slammed the door.

“Filthy…”

She didn’t know how long she stayed in the rain, only that she nearly lost consciousness before someone dragged her back.

An elderly housekeeper, taking pity, pulled her from the rain while the old man slept.

Otherwise, she would have died in that storm.

The old woman looked at her, feverish and delirious, and sighed.

“…Don’t resist. Don’t cry or beg. Let him hit you. These masters are all like that. Make him feel it’s pointless.”

Don’t… resist?

From then on, she had an epiphany, but thunderstorms still left a shadow in her heart.

Her face pale, she sat up, hugging her pillow for a while before getting out of bed.

**

July 21, 2 AM, the thirty-first day of living with Wei Qing.

She went to Wei Qing’s room and knocked on the door.

After a while, footsteps approached.

Wei Qing opened the door, sleepy-eyed, wearing a thin nightgown that showed her slender legs. Her features glowed softly in the dim light.

She tilted her head, her voice slightly hoarse with sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

Sylvie looked at her, almost entranced, tracing her beautiful, almost unreal features.

Wei Qing’s gaze slowly cleared.

Sylvie looked pale, her thin frame fragile, lips pursed tightly, eyelashes trembling faintly.

She clutched a pillow tightly with both arms.

Another flash of lightning lit the living room slightly.

Sylvie closed her eyes instinctively, her body trembling.

A second later, a massive thunderclap roared.

Even Wei Qing jumped.

Sylvie breathed rapidly for a moment, then spoke in a hoarse, trembling voice, her words nearly drowned by the rain, fragile and helpless.

“Master, I… I’m a bit scared.”