Chapter 199
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Chapter 199: Enjoy Yourself to the Fullest
The next morning, Sylve found herself at an ordinary third-tier hospital in the Dawn District.
The place was crowded, with people moving hurriedly. The dim lighting did nothing to make her feel at ease. It was a stark contrast to the hospitals she was accustomed to in the Platinum Zone. There, the medical facilities were advanced, the environment pristine, and the staff more numerous than the patients. Every doctor and nurse wore a smile. Here, it was chaos—voices raised, people rushing. It was overwhelming, but she endured.
She arrived at the door of her classmate’s hospital room.
After the incident, Sylve’s mother had already paid fifteen thousand in compensation. Now, another fifteen thousand was required, and Sylve had to personally come to apologize. If it weren’t for Mr. Moriarty’s terrifying presence, she would never have agreed to this visit.
Standing outside the room, Sylve noticed her classmate’s parents, their faces full of anger. They glared at her, ready to unleash their frustration. However, her butler had explained their purpose beforehand, mentioning the additional compensation. This softened their anger slightly—only slightly.
Seeing Sylve’s frightened expression, they chose not to yell.
“Let’s go inside, Miss Sylve,” the butler said calmly.
The group entered the room together.
Inside, the black-haired girl with the injured left hand was sitting on a bed, not even in a private ward. She held a knight novel in her uninjured hand, her expression serene.
“Daughter, uh… your classmate is here,” her mother said, her tone awkward.
The girl lifted her gaze from her book and locked eyes with Sylve.
For a moment, they stared at each other, but the black-haired girl quickly turned away, avoiding Sylve’s gaze.
“Sorry.”
Sylve took a deep breath, stepped forward, and bowed her head deeply.
“I was wrong.”
She realized at that moment how terrible her actions had been. She had bullied this girl, something that now seemed so abhorrent. But back then, it had felt so easy—so normal. Everyone around her had encouraged it. Jokes at her classmate’s expense would elicit laughter from the entire class. It was as if bullying had been the expected behavior, and refusing to participate made one an outcast.
That environment… it had been like living among demons.
“I’m very sorry,” Sylve said again, her tone more sincere. “Yezi, please forgive me. I was truly wrong. I won’t treat you that way again.”
Sylve hoped desperately to be forgiven. If not, Mr. Moriarty might make her “empathize” with the pain again tonight, and the thought sent chills down her spine.
“I don’t forgive you.”
Sylve froze.
Though spoken softly, the words were unmistakable. The black-haired girl looked down and muttered again, “I won’t forgive you.”
Then she raised her head, her eyes cold.
“You’d better die soon. I won’t forgive you… never.”
After dinner, Sylve found herself in another teaching session.
Bai Yan sat calmly on the sofa, his demeanor as composed as always. Sylve sat at the far end, perched nervously, barely daring to breathe.
“Did you go to apologize today?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied in a whisper.
“Did she forgive you?”
Sylve trembled violently, debating whether to lie. Finally, she whispered, “No.”
Bai Yan nodded, unfazed. “The ritual I taught you yesterday was a simple exercise in empathy. Do you remember the steps? Perform it for me again.”
He retrieved a small glass bottle containing a drop of the black-haired girl’s blood.
“I-I-I don’t want to…” Sylve begged, her voice trembling as she looked at Bai Yan. But his expression remained indifferent, offering no reprieve.
Resigned, she prepared for the ritual. Matchsticks, a bowl of water, the drop of blood—all arranged as before. She hesitated when it came time to chant the spell. Tears welled up in her eyes.
So scared.
Who could save her?
She was terrified, not of the pain itself, but of defying Bai Yan. She understood that escape was futile; her status as his apprentice bound her to his orders.
Tears streaming, she began the chant:
“Our past has shaped our present, our choices have shaped our present, and so we share the same feelings. We will struggle and suffer together…”
Pain exploded through her body. Sylve bit her lip, shaking uncontrollably.
“Don’t let go,” Bai Yan commanded, his voice icy and devoid of emotion.
The agony was unbearable, but she obeyed.
“Even if you apologize, the pain
remains,” Bai Yan said, his
tone calm but cutting. “The
regrets of the perpetrator are
of little use. In this world, an
apology doesn’t heal wounds
or bring back the dead. The
injured party never truly
forgives. They simply stop
caring over time.”
Sylve wanted to scream her
understanding, her regret. But
she didn’t dare speak.
Suddenly, Bai Yan removed her
hand from the matchstick.
The pain subsided.
Sylve gasped, her body
trembling. The nightmare was
over.
“You’re still a well-behaved
child,” Bai Yan said, stroking
her head. “At least you tried to
correct your mistake. For that,
I’ll reward you.”
From his hand, a dark brown
seed appeared. It was the size
of a quail egg, resembling a
bodhi seed.
“This is the seed of
enlightenment,” Bai Yan
explained. “When it blossoms,
you’ll become a true
transcendent.”
Sylve, overwhelmed and
tearful, whispered her
gratitude.
“Thank you, mentor. I’ll do my
best to obey you.”
Later, as Bai Yan observed
himself in the mirror, a sinister
smile formed.
“Enjoy yourself to the fullest,”
his reflection whispered, “till
the end of all things.”