Chapter 465: Poor Ashe

A man wearing a dark-red trench coat sat in a luxurious red leather armchair. He crossed his legs, rested his left hand against his cheek, and wore a mask that concealed his face. His unkempt bangs fell loosely over his forehead as he gazed indifferently at the underground city outside the window, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he were smiling.

Annan's brush moved swiftly across the canvas. Before long, the painting began to take shape. However, she frowned slightly. "Don't move."

Ashe complained, "I can't hold the same pose for that long. I've never worked part-time as a model before."

"But if you keep moving, I can't draw you. I have a good solution. Ashe, don't move!"

Ashe instantly stiffened. Satisfied, Annan resumed painting with a smile. "It's a pity the world outside isn't burning. Otherwise, this would perfectly match your future image at the top of the Art Ranking."

"You're not as mature as the version of yourself on the Art Ranking," Ashe countered. "But no matter which ranking it is, the version of me on them always looks pretty similar."

"Not at all. The you from the Art Ranking is more bewitching and unruly. The you from the Family Ranking looks arrogant and flamboyant. The you from the Schemer Ranking is the closest to your current self. Overall, the you from the first three rankings gradually becomes closer to the real you. But starting from the Happiness Ranking, things get strange. The one on the Heretical Arts Ranking is even oddly righteous."

"Speaking of which, it's actually quite strange. I appear on every single ranking, yet I don't hold a single actual position..."

"Weren't you ranked together with me? Just that you appeared as my artwork..." Annan paused, lost in thought. "Now that I think about it, we weren't even that familiar with each other back then. Why would the Gospel weave a future where I painted you?"

"That just proves the Gospel already knew you were infatuated with my beauty."

"Are you sure you want to say that to someone actually on the Azura Beauty Ranking? I'm suddenly tempted to paint a nude portrait just to confirm whether you really are that beautiful—"

"I'm sorry. I was too arrogant. Please forgive me," Ashe hesitated for a moment before asking, "I'm actually curious. When did you start liking me? Never mind, forget I asked. If you realize you can't remember, I'll just end up feeling awkward..."

Annan answered casually, "From the very beginning. Back in the underground hall."

Ashe was stunned. "Σ(っ°Д°;)っ What? Was it really a miracle of love at first sight?"

"Of course not. I was just curious about you at first, and that curiosity turned into attention," Annan smiled softly. "I watched Iger and Harvey wait for you to make the decisions. I saw you willingly take responsibility for Lys. I heard you say in the changing room that you would wait until your 101 days were over before deciding whether to take revenge on me—"

"You really did install a listening device in the changing room!"

Annan snorted. "Installing a device within my own territory doesn't count as eavesdropping. And then there was when I saw you choose to endure agonizing pain yourself rather than follow my orders and cause trouble for your target. When I saw you comforting Lys even while running for your life. When I saw you defend me in front of Quinna. When I saw you break your own hand just to save Lys. When I saw you hoping Iger would find happiness...

"When I saw you slow down your motorbike because you noticed puddles on the side of the road. When I saw how much you cared about Pankey's safety. That's about it. My feelings for you simply accumulated, little by little."

"To think you'd be so good at remembering things. I'd forgotten about half of those moments until you mentioned them... But I think you might be beautifying me in your memories."

Annan smiled. "Of course I am. When I look at you now, even your eyebrows look adorable to me. How could I not beautify you? Hmm, and... finished."

Annan turned the drawing board around to face him.

Unlike the masterpiece at the top of the Art Ranking, this was a simple sketch portrait. The background was left entirely blank, and the technique was nowhere near as magnificent or elaborate. The person in the drawing lacked that bewitching, unruly aura.

Yet, the man's eyes and features were vividly alive. His expression carried a gentle elegance, and every stroke of the brush practically overflowed with affection. Instead of a mere painting, it looked like a confession.

Ashe let out a quiet sigh. "Annan, I..."

"You know that unless it's for work, I never ask the Gospel about anything," Annan interrupted. She stepped forward, sat directly on his lap, and summoned her Book of Gospel. "But tonight, I'll make an exception. Gospel, who is the most suitable lover for me?"

Annan turned the book around for Ashe to see. "Look."

Sweeping into his sight was the name Ashe Heath, glowing with a faint, purple light upon the pristine white page.

Annan's words felt like a crushing weight. Ashe felt the energy drain from his entire body, as though his very spirit had begun to collapse under the gravity of the moment. The response he had carefully prepared in his mind, weighing every single word, suddenly became unbearably heavy. The more sincere she was, the more painful it became for him to speak.

He struggled to find his voice. "Annan, can you give me some time to think—"

"No."

Annan suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled down his mask, lifted his chin, and kissed him.

The warm, gentle sensation seeped through his lips and flooded his mind. In his eyes, nothing remained except those captivating green pupils, filled with an overwhelming, breathless intensity.

"Huh?

"Huh, huh?

"Huh, huh, huh?"

Ashe wanted to pull back, but there was a fatal flaw in his plan. Annan had just commanded him not to move, and the contract's forced restriction rendered him physically incapable of resistance. The only parts of his body he could still manipulate were his teeth and his tongue. Was he supposed to bite her back?

Tsk.

Ashe felt a fragrant little tongue tentatively brushing past his teeth, like a soft piece of jelly slipping into his mouth on its own. Catching the fierce stubbornness in Annan's eyes, his heart instantly softened.

A microscopic breach appeared in an otherwise impenetrable fortress. The invading army immediately swarmed through the opening, leaving the defenders utterly powerless to hold the line. The two sides locked into fierce, breathless combat, sweat flowing as the struggle intensified. Eventually, the enemy forces dragged the defenders clean out of the fortress and into their own territory, where they were completely devoured.

Ashe had previously thought that Annan and Quinna were entirely different people. Now, he was certain they were mother and daughter. They were equally forceful and domineering.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted. Their breathing was shallow and heavy, their warm breaths mingling in the space between them as if they were whispering their deepest secrets.

Just as Ashe's pounding heart finally began to steady, he heard Annan whisper against his ear, "Respond to me. Hold me. Play me."

Suddenly, their Books of Gospel materialized beside them. Only then did Ashe realize they had somehow rolled onto the bed.

Annan glanced at the glowing pages. "The Gospel's weaving speed is accelerating... But the rankings can be checked anytime. Right now, you're only allowed to look at me. Weave me."

Annan was his superior at work and his master by contract. Hearing such unreasonable demands from her lips, Ashe felt his sanity hanging by a thread.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Daddy! Daddy! I know you're in there! Come out right now!"

Ashe and Annan froze, staring at each other. The Purple Moth pushed him away, sat up, and quickly adjusted her nightgown. Then, grabbing the thoroughly dazed cult leader, she dragged him to the door and shoved him toward Lys waiting outside.

Before letting go, she coiled an arm around his neck and whispered in his ear, "That's enough for tonight. We'll finish this after the Woven Festival ends."

Her warm breath brushed his earlobe. "This is the future I have woven."

"But—"

"No buts. Did you forget? Your contract doesn't expire until August 15, and the operation will take place no later than the twentieth. That means once the Woven Festival is over, I still have at least fifty-five days to handle you. By then, we might already have children."

Annan nipped a quick kiss onto his cheek, then waved playfully. "I'm the director of an agency that uses any means necessary. You didn't actually think I was asking for your permission, did you? Dummy. Goodnight."

The moment the door clicked shut, Annan threw herself face-first onto the bed.

After lying entirely still for a second, she began rolling across the mattress, burying her burning face in her hands. Her heart was still hammering against her ribs, her breathing completely uneven. "The future is the greatest source of hope..."

She turned over to stare at the portrait she had just sketched. Tilting her head, she gazed at it for a long while. The corners of her lips slowly curled upward, and the worried crease between her brows, tightened by days of looming anxiety, finally smoothed out.

The terror of death in her chest receded just a fraction. The first half of my life might be coming to an end. But now... I'm actually looking forward to the second half beginning as soon as possible.

***

Outside in the corridor, Ashe and Lys stared at each other in dead silence.

After a moment of profound contemplation, Lys turned on her heel and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Ashe asked, alarmed.

"To find Aunt Perskin."

"Why are you looking for him?"

"To discuss the logistics of Annan becoming my stepmother."

"Why on earth would you discuss that with him?!" ℯ

Ashe lunged forward, grabbed Lys, and dropped to a crouch with a thoroughly guilty expression plastered across his face. "How did you even know I was in here?"

"Because Aunt Annan just texted me."

Ashe stiffened. In an instant, the full scope of Annan's tactical genius clicked into place. Damn it.

She had deployed a textbook honey trap, dangling a blissful future after the Woven Festival just to ensure he fought like a demon during the upcoming operation.

It was an entirely transparent scheme. Yet, even fully aware of her machinations, Ashe had still fallen for it a little. Well, more than a little, but he only allowed himself to admit to a little.

Poor Ashe. He had been completely, utterly toyed with by a wicked woman.