Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - Chapter 155

Chapter 155

Beili frowned slightly, pretending she hadn’t heard him.

The person outside the door waited a few seconds for a response that never came before finally walking toward the room next door.

Then, the sound of a door opening drifted through the wall.

She let out a sigh of relief.

Turning toward the bathroom, she took a shower to wash away the heavy scent of blood clinging to her skin. Only then did she crawl into the fluffy, soft blankets that smelled faintly of flowers.

This time, the bed didn’t emit the fragile creaks of old wooden planks.

There were no eerie buzzing sounds coming from outside the door or window either.

She could finally get a good night’s rest in peace.

However…

Something fluffy was rooting around under the covers, shifting positions.

Gradually, it burrowed into her warm embrace, heated from the hot bath.

Beili pulled back the duvet and stared in silent confrontation at the Black Lamb, whose fleece was dark and glossy.

“Ashera, your room is next door,” she said calmly.

The Black Lamb let out a piteous bleat and proactively pressed its woolly head against the tip of her nose.

Beili knit her brows slightly, then caught the scent of rose soap.

Speechless and amused, she asked, “…You actually took a bath?”

“Baa-”

The Black Lamb bleated at her, its cry carrying the distinctive, spoiled tone of a young animal.

And though its eyes were blind, that didn’t stop it from intentionally making gestures that seemed full of spirit.

For instance, right now-

It blinked its golden eyes, leaned in, and rubbed its fluffy head and ears against her shoulder and neck.

“Stop it. You don’t sleep anyway; you’ll just disturb me.”

As Beili spoke, she got out of bed, scooped up the Black Lamb, and heartlessly tossed it onto a cushioned chair by the bedside.

“Just play by yourself over there.”

At the very least, she hadn’t thrown it out of the room, which was already a major concession.

The girl returned to bed, pulled up the covers, settled in, and closed her eyes.

Silence reigned for only a moment.

The Black Lamb transformed back into a cloud of black mist and burrowed back under the duvet.

“…”

Having gone through so much the previous night, Beili was already feeling a bit dazed. Sensing the Black Lamb rooting around beside her again, she reached out and pinched its ear.

“Stay in your Beast Form, and stay quiet…” she muttered.

The Black Lamb was very well-behaved, responding with a soft bleat.

…

The girl fell into a deep sleep shortly after, still holding onto the Black Lamb’s ear.

Then, she had a strange dream.

In the dream, she had become a cold person who brooked no offense-someone truly cruel.

Beili guessed her identity might be that of a queen.

This was because everyone serving her was incredibly respectful toward her.

It was a kind of desperate, all-consuming reverence.

Almost everyone who entered her sight kept their heads bowed low; no one dared look her in the eye.

It was as if they feared that even the slightest overstep would provoke her thunderous rage.

She also had a group of servants who attended to her personally.

Beili wasn’t sure if “servants” was the correct term.

In short, they were a group of innocent, romantic youths.

In the dream, she reclined on a flawless stone chair that was as translucent as white jade, covered in light white feathers.

Some of the youths played and frolicked lightheartedly on the plaza below the stone steps, while others sat on the steps chatting happily. A few sat at her feet, focused on reading books that ranged from the esoteric to the simple.
She had her eyes closed.

She wasn’t thinking about anything, nor was she resting; she simply had her eyes closed.

Just as she lightly shuttered her lids, a faint sensation suddenly brushed against her fingertips.

Her lashes trembled. She opened her eyes and lowered her gaze.

She saw an open book lying abandoned on the stone steps. It seemed to be a poem about adoration.

A youth knelt on the steps, head tilted back, his trembling lips pressed against her fingertips.

It was as if he had been inspired by the poetry, an act born of uncontrollable impulse.

She met the youth’s gaze calmly.

Utterly calm.

In his eyes, she saw a deep, surging terror-the realization of what he was doing.

The youth immediately scrambled down the stone steps and knelt on the cold plaza. He confessed his transgression in a rush, tears streaming down his face as he begged for forgiveness over and over again.

Hearing the commotion, the other boys and girls in the plaza gathered around. Some began to plead for mercy on his behalf, while others, hearing of his actions, shoved him in anger. The rest simply watched with cold indifference, remaining silent.

Finally.

Everyone turned their eyes toward her.

They were secretly observing her expression, trying to guess her decision.

She saw herself raise a hand, her fingertips as white and translucent as jade, pointing at the youth who knelt sobbing on the ground.

Her lips moved, as if she were saying something cruel.

The youths-every single one of them-wore expressions of shock and horror.

Beili could see the fear rising from the depths of almost every pair of eyes.

And then.

Beili woke up.

She opened her bleary red eyes.

She stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment.

It took a while for her to process the idea that she might have been a tyrant in her past life… No, in her previous life in her original world, she had clearly been a miserable corporate slave.

So, perhaps it was the life before that, or even further back, when she had been a cruel tyrant.

But it was just a dream.

Back in her old world, she used to have all sorts of absurd dreams about getting rich.

Ever since she had transmigrated into this world and into Bartholomew’s body, she hardly ever dreamed anymore.

…

Beili turned her head and saw the Black Lamb curled up like a donut beside her pillow.

Looking past him, Beili saw a sliver of orange-red light falling through the gap in the window curtains.

She had slept from early morning until evening.

Beili got out of bed and pulled back the curtains, revealing the beautiful scenery of Rose Town.

The setting sun looked like molten gold.

The houses decorated with roses were plated in a golden glow, and even the smoke rising from the chimneys was dyed an orange-red hue.

Behind the girl.

At some point, the Black Lamb had transformed back into the youth wearing the Silver Mask.

He sat by the edge of the bed, his head tilted slightly as he sensed the girl’s emotions. Then, he spoke: “You are… happy now. Can you… tell me… who you wanted to… come here with?”

Beili turned back to look at him.

The orange-red light spilled in, falling across the youth’s cold metal mask and lending him a touch of warmth.

She pressed her lips together, setting aside her awkwardness, and asked sincerely:

“Ashera, why do you want to know? Who I wanted to come here with shouldn’t be important to you.”

“Because…”

The youth paused for nearly ten seconds before saying, “I… I want to know.”