She shook her head, unwilling to dwell on these thoughts. Carefully folding her bra and underwear, she tucked them onto the stool nearby. She hadn’t intended to be out so late and certainly hadn’t planned to stay overnight, so she hadn’t brought a change of clothes. For this reason, she needed to keep both her underwear and outerwear intact, as she’d likely have to wear them again later or in the morning. Unable to resist, she raised her slightly bloodshot eyes in the mirror once more, gazing at her body—once regarded as a treasure, now violated and defiled. Pale, radiant, tender, it seemed as if it could dissolve into the soft waters of a pool, its texture so supple and exquisite. Not only the most private parts of a girl—the shyest secrets, the irresistible budding nipples, the shameful crevice below—but every detail: shoulders, navel, legs, even her elbows and knees, all so delicate and graceful, youthful and vibrant, seemingly devoid of any blemish or imperfection... Yet, staring over and over into the mirror, she felt as though the depth beneath her skin and the pores of her flesh harbored filth and corruption, felt as though Lu Jincheng’s shadow lurked there, as if she could even smell Lu Jincheng’s scent lingering. She knew it was just psychological—a trick of the mind. She could only set aside these helpless pangs of anguish and imagination, allowing the hot spray of water from the shower to cascade down her body. From her hair to her shoulders, from her breasts to her buttocks, from her thighs to her feet, the scalding water enveloped her skin, as if trying to cleanse her, as if it could wash away her troubles and pain. But in another sense, it felt like some kind of magical hypnotic liquid, encasing her entirely... She turned off the shower, dried herself with a clean white bath towel, and then put on her snug underwear again. Worried about something, she rummaged through the large wardrobe and indeed found a set of clean guest silk pajamas. She tried them on, finding the size a bit too large. But she didn’t want to sleep wearing a bra—too uncomfortable—nor did she want to sleep naked, feeling a vague anxiety about being so exposed. Ultimately, she settled on changing into the slightly oversized sleepwear. Sliding into the snow-white, fluffy bedding of the two-meter king-sized bed, the downy comfort enveloped her immediately, mixed with the cool ambiance of the room at 22 degrees, heightening her mounting drowsiness. She turned off the light, and the room sank into silence and darkness, with only a sliver of moonlight over Lake Stream filtering faintly through the curtains. Covering her head with the blanket, she assumed sleep would come quickly... Yet in this hazy state between waking and dreaming, her thoughts continued to churn relentlessly. Of course, she could keep pretending, could act as though nothing had ever happened. But it had happened. Everything was already different, wasn’t it? Under the pajamas, she gently wrapped her arms around her petite frame, pressing her small breasts tightly against herself. She bent her knees and clamped her long legs together as though determined to forever conceal her private parts within the muscles of her thighs. This exquisite little body—did it still truly belong to her? This figure she’d once touched in secret beneath the covers to experience forbidden pleasure, this body she had admired discreetly in the mirror, finding it irresistibly alluring and utterly lovable, the same body she’d imagined offering up one day as a cherished gift to her future husband—did it still truly belong to her? The door was locked. Yet if Li Tong had given him a room card, or if Lu Jincheng possessed one himself, he could still swipe his way in. If he came looking for her after his late-night singing had ended... What could she do? Aside from suppressing her shame and agony, covering her mouth to stifle her muffled cries of humiliation, helplessly letting him defile her delicate body once more, how could she possibly resist? Worse yet, under his commands and threats, she might not only have to curl up miserably and endure his violation; she might have to spread her legs, open her hands, expose every desperate secret she tried so hard to hide, offering them up piece by piece for him to ravage. She might be made to strike poses. She might even be forced to move voluntarily, just as she had that night. Perhaps she’d have to call out "Brother," call him "Master," or even call him "Daddy," using lewd, servile titles, drowning in grotesque humiliation and torment—all to please this man. And what was even more tragic was that this was no longer her greatest fear. She’d struggled, repeatedly using her naïve, inexperienced mind to mull over the situation. Lu Jincheng—he was so different from those wealthy heirs who merely chased after her at the base... He had done far too many things, woven far too many schemes, poured far too much effort into her. He had invested so much into propelling her to fame, orchestrating her image behind the scenes. Could it really all be just to enhance his satisfaction in raping her? The thought sometimes occurred to her—that perhaps Lu Jincheng harbored some twisted form of "love" for her—but no matter how she turned it over, she found Mr. Lu’s actions utterly confounding. If she removed the part about him desecrating her, he almost resembled a selfless and formidable agent, meticulously crafting her past, managing her present, and shaping her future to standards she could hardly comprehend. But those horrid photographs, that night of humiliating violation, and every time she revisited Lu Jincheng’s whispered, degrading yet threatening commands in her ear that night—"Obey me. Absolutely obey me. Submit. Absolutely submit."—she had vague suspicions about what it all meant.