Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - chapter 3

Hearing his words, Beili hesitated for a moment, but in the next second she had already reached out to find the edge of the bed, then crouched down and crawled under it.

A set of footsteps approached.

“Attendant, did someone enter this cell?”

“Oh yes, it was that group of new Nobles…”

A muffled conversation sounded outside the door, followed by a dim yellow light falling through the palm-sized window in the iron door of the cell.

It illuminated the silver-haired boy on the ground.

He was kneeling stiffly on the cold floor, his hands tied behind his back. His hair and the loose, plain white linen shirt he wore were both wet and still dripping, clearly in poor condition.

But the patrol officers didn’t care. They simply shone their light casually into the cell, and after confirming that, apart from the silver-haired boy, there was no one else inside, they considered their task complete and left.

The cell was plunged into darkness again.

A darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, with not a single source of light.

Beili heard the boy let out a sigh of relief, as if hinting that they were now out of danger.

Beili crawled out from under the bed.

She felt her way to the iron door and pushed it; the iron lock outside clanged loudly.

It must have been locked again by those patrol officers before they left.

“It’s locked…”

She spoke softly, reminding the boy of the new situation they were facing.

As the villainess of the original novel, the book only briefly described Bartholomew’s difficult, wandering life before her return.

Because the entire story was almost always told from the perspective of the heroine Susanna, when Bartholomew-the true heiress-appeared, the plot had already reached the point where she was brought back to Constance Castle.

The book never detailed what kind of life Bartholomew led in prison before that.

It was limited to Susanna overhearing Nobles at the ball gossiping about her suddenly appeared sister-

‘Perhaps being imprisoned was the luckiest thing that ever happened to Bartholomew Constance. If Thorn Prison hadn’t kept her alive for ten years, that poor thing might not have survived until now!’

‘Ten years! My god! Living in that filthy, foul Thorn Prison for ten years-I’d rather bash my head against the wall!’

‘No matter how stunning she looks, it doesn’t change the fact that she was a worm in Thorn Prison for ten years!’

‘Oh-I heard that the fallen Nobles in Thorn Prison all call her Little Bartholomew. It’s the funniest gossip in the Noble social circle!’

‘Shh-! Damn it, keep your voices down, the little one from Constance is watching us, eyes like a venomous snake crawling out of a grave!’

At times like this, Susanna couldn’t help but glance at Miss Bartholomew standing alone, and sure enough, Miss Bartholomew’s expression was always gloomy.

When Susanna quickly averted her gaze to avoid meeting her unpredictable sister’s eyes, she would notice that Prince Cyril’s expression beside her was equally unpleasant.

“…It’s locked.”

Beili’s words had faded for a while, but the boy in the darkness still didn’t respond.

Sensing something was wrong, she moved next to him by memory.

Unable to see in the darkness, Beili reached out and touched him.

The boy was kneeling on the ground, his head bowed, hands still tied behind his back, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

“Are you… are you alright?”

Was he just acting?

Beili frowned slightly in confusion.

“Cold…”

The boy began to repeat the word, mixed with a few phrases Beili couldn’t understand, his consciousness seemingly fading.

Beili’s fingertips moved up, searching for his forehead.

At this moment, the temperature of his forehead was clearly higher than her palm.

Only then did Beili realize something was wrong.

Could it be that the greatest villain in the whole book was going to freeze to death tonight?

Beili silently cursed in her heart, quickly turned and felt her way toward the iron bed. After a faint rustling, she found only a thin, tattered blanket.

Beili’s fingers paused, and in that instant, a dangerous thought flashed through her mind-

If the greatest villain in the whole book died, would her own ending change as well?
After all, all the other characters revolved around the heroine, so after she returned to the palace, as long as she stayed far away from them, could she avoid being caught up in the whirlpool of the story?

But this idea was quickly dismissed by Beili. Not to mention that when she had sympathized with the villain before, she had truly felt it from the heart. Now, as the malicious supporting female character, if she could get along well with the villain, relying on her knowledge of the plot’s development as her cheat.

She might even be able to take this fifth male lead with her and escape the death ending.

Suddenly, a dull thud sounded behind her.

It was the villain, unable to hold on any longer, collapsing and hitting his head on the ground.

Beili’s eyelid twitched. She grabbed the tattered quilt and groped her way back to the boy’s side.

She reached out and touched his body-it was icy cold, like a frozen grape soaked overnight in the chill of winter.

Beili hurriedly straightened the boy’s body, then carefully touched his cheek and gently patted him.

“You have to hold on, don’t fall asleep. If you sleep, you won’t wake up.”

Beili tried to scare the boy while untying the cloth strips around his wrists.

With a few quick moves, she took off the boy’s wet linen shirt and wrapped him in the thin, torn quilt.

Next, Beili reached down and felt the boy’s pants. The pants were fine, only a little damp from splashed water.

Before she could do anything else, the unconscious boy suddenly regained consciousness.

He began to struggle, seemingly trying to protect his pants.

“Cough… No…”

He muttered weakly, his voice barely audible.

He seemed frail and helpless, yet determined to defend his innocence to the death.

Beili: …

It seemed the villain was truly ill, but also genuinely testing her.

Beili quickly withdrew her hand, and the boy’s body collapsed to the ground again with another dull thud.

Feeling that this wasn’t going to work, Beili hesitated for two seconds before helping the boy up again.

She reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t take off your pants.”

She wrapped the tattered quilt tightly around him, then supported him to the bedside, gesturing for him to lie down.

Considering the villain’s sensitivity, and not wanting to accidentally trigger his sickly paranoia, Beili promised again:

“Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t take off your pants.”

In the darkness, the boy turned his head, seemingly glancing at Beili.

But he couldn’t see her, not even if a candle was lit.

After settling the boy, Beili went back to pick up his shirt.

The shirt was soaked, heavy and wet. Beili had to go to the corner and wring it out as hard as she could, squeezing out as much water as possible, then hung it at the end of the iron bed to dry.

Her eyes had unconsciously adapted to the darkness, and she could even vaguely make out the few items in the prison cell.

Returning to the boy’s side, Beili reached out and touched his palm.

Her hand had just touched the cold, wet shirt, so it wasn’t very warm, but when she felt the boy’s palm, she realized her hand was actually still warm by comparison.

Beili had no choice but to climb onto the iron bed herself, sitting with her back against the wall.

“I mean no harm. It’s just so you don’t freeze…”

She reached out and gently pulled the boy into her arms, then pulled the tattered quilt over them, wrapping him between herself and the quilt.

After Beili held the block of ice for a while, he finally began to warm up.

At first, the boy’s body was stiff and tense, but gradually he relaxed, his thin frame curling up and pressing tightly against the warmth of her embrace.

“You… you saved me… cough… Is there… anything I can do… for you?”

His stammering voice sounded from within her arms.

Beili was taken aback.

Although the villain was still acting and testing her, Beili didn’t want to miss this chance for ‘repaying kindness.’

“Actually, there is one thing…”

She curved her lips into a smile and said, “I don’t have any friends. If you don’t have any friends either, can I invite you to be my friend? The kind of friend who can share secrets with each other.”

After hearing her words, the boy was silent for a long time.

Finally, he softly replied:

“O-okay…”