Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 154: Using the azure flames over time will drain you

Qingran nodded briefly, too exhausted to say more. She stepped into the elevator again, pressing the button for the 40th floor with a heavy hand.

The elevator hummed as it rose.

Her reflection in the mirrored walls looked terrible, her face pale, the bandages spotted faintly with blood, dark circles smudged under her eyes.

She didn’t care. She just needed a few hours to patch herself together.

When the doors slid open, the familiar scent of cooking spices drifted faintly down the hall.

Bai Shiyue was sitting near the open suite door, peeling potatoes with gently, beside her were bowls of diced onions and garlic.

Her belly was beginning to show under her loose shirt, the signs of her pregnancy unmistakable.

Qingran’s face softened a little.

"Shiyue." she greeted, her voice rough with weariness. "How’s the belly?"

Bai Shiyue looked up and gave a tired but genuine smile. "Still attached to me. The kid’s stubborn must take after me."

Qingran chuckled under her breath. It was a weak but it was genuine.

"That’s good" she said. Then, after a moment’s pause, "Can you make me something? Anything. I’ll eat whatever you got."

Bai Shiyue’s smile widened. "Leave it to me. Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll bring it to your door."

Qingran nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

Without another word, she trudged down the hall to her own room.

The suite was dark and silent.

Qingran flipped the lights on low, not bothering to lock the door behind her. No one would dare disturb her anyway.

She stripped off her jacket, her boots, her dirty torn clothes with slow, dragging movements, leaving a trail behind her.

Her body was screaming for rest, but more than that she needed to feel clean again.

She staggered into the bathroom, turning the taps with fumbling fingers.

Hot water roared to life, steam filling the room almost immediately.

Qingran sank into the tub first, still half-dressed, letting the heat soak into her aching muscles.

Her bandages floated around her hands, the white gauze bleeding faint pink.

She leaned her head back against the cold ceramic edge, closing her eyes.

For a long moment, she just existed, half-submerged, floating between exhaustion and numbness.

Lingquan’s voice nudged at her lightly.

[You’re at your limit. Sleep first, hygiene later.]

Qingran grunted, barely acknowledging the warning.

She forced herself upright after a few minutes, peeling away the soggy bandages.

Pain lanced through her hands, but she ignored it.

With mechanical motions, she soaped up, scrubbed off grime and dried blood, rinsed.

The water turned cloudy, swirling darkly around her.

As she stood to finish showering off, her vision swam suddenly.

Her knees buckled.

Qingran caught the wall just in time, panting hard, black spots blooming in her vision.

Her body trembled violently from stress, dehydration, overexertion all crashing down at once.

For a terrible second, she thought she would pass out right there, naked and vulnerable.

[See, this is why you can’t use the azure flame over a long period of time.]

But Qingran gritted her teeth, anchoring herself with sheer stubborn will.

Not yet.

Slowly, shakily, she finished rinsing off, turning off the tap with a final, trembling twist.

The bathroom was a misty cocoon of heat, making it harder to breathe.

She wrapped herself in a towel, barely drying off before collapsing into the bed.

She didn’t even make it under the covers just face-planted straight onto the mattress, hair dripping wet, the towel half-falling off her shoulders.

Barely a minute later, she was asleep.

Deep, dreamless sleep.

Not even the soft knock at her door fifteen minutes later, Bai Shiyue’s voice whispering, "Food’s here, Qingran..." could wake her.

She slept like the dead, her battered body finally forcing the rest her mind kept denying.

Around 3pm, she got up to get some food and immediately slept back again after.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the cracks in the blinds, Qingran groggily opened her eyes again, her body demanding more rest.

She had barely slept for a few hours, but it wasn’t enough. Still, the urgency of the situation roused her.

She rubbed her face, wincing at the tenderness of her still-healing wounds.

There was no avoiding it. She couldn’t afford to sleep any longer. The others were waiting, and the work wouldn’t do itself.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the discomfort that shot through her legs.

Her muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored it. She didn’t have time for weakness.

She dressed quickly, pulling on fresh clothes, a black tactical pants and a fitted shirt, leaving her wounds exposed but covered enough to allow for mobility.

She paused for a moment at the bathroom mirror, studying herself.

Her eyes were bloodshot, hair still damp, her face pale from the toll everything had taken. Despite the exhaustion, she at least she still looked alive, and that was all that mattered.

After a deep breath, she stepped out of the suite and headed straight for the 39th floor, her mind focused on the next phase of what needed to be done.

⸻

The survivors were already awake, a few of them standing outside their rooms, looking lost or anxious.

Some looked like they hadn’t slept at all, others like they’d just barely survived the night.

Feng Yuxi was already there, as always, organizing the others and making sure the atmosphere remained tight.

"Morning." Qingran greeted her, voice rough from sleep.

Feng Yuxi gave her a sharp nod, not even blinking at Qingran’s disheveled appearance. "Morning. The survivors are ready for their briefing, and we’ve made arrangements for the first round of assignments."

Qingran nodded, mentally switching gears.

"Good," she said, folding her arms across her chest as she surveyed the crowd of survivors. There was no time for niceties. No time to explain everything in detail. It was time for action.

She walked forward, her voice steady and commanding as she addressed the group, who had all turned to face her with varying degrees of nervousness and expectation.

"Listen up," she began, her voice cutting through the tension in the room. "We’ve got less than thirty days until the tide comes in. The work starts today. This building will be our safe zone, but only if you follow orders and pull your weight."