Dwight didn’t believe that there was anyone in the world who could truly fulfill all wishes. If the legends were true, Maplewood would have been turned into a grand temple by devout and fervent believers long ago.
However, the legend of this mysterious little shop wasn’t entirely baseless. Dwight tended to think that the shop owner might be adept in some form of obscure black magic, a hidden master of white magic, or perhaps just a cunning swindler from the streets, the latter being more likely.
But…
None of the rumors had ever mentioned that the shopkeeper of this wishing fountain-like store was a rabbit.
“I’m not a rabbit.” As if knowing what the guests were thinking, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper shoved a clinking strange scale under the counter. “So, what brings you here?”
Dwight didn’t answer immediately but asked arrogantly and slowly, “What are you?”
The question was a bit too much.
Shivers uncomfortably pulled the door closed, blocking the eager gaze of the little tin soldier who had been bouncing outside.
“I’m obviously human,” the rabbit stated matter-of-factly.
The young Duke stroked the gem on the top of his cane, barely holding back a sarcastic remark.
“Assuming you’re human.” Dwight looked again at the shopkeeper, who seemed utterly unconcerned about his appearance, his fuzzy, long ears proudly upright. “From what I see, your reputation exceeds reality.”
This non-human appearance was nothing more than the result of magical transformation, whether voluntary or not, and it inevitably made one question this guy’s capabilities.
No matter how much magic and gold coins were used to equip the carriage and travel gear, the Duke was just an ordinary person, and traveling in this weather wasn’t a pleasant affair.
He petulantly blamed all this on the peculiar rabbit before him.
“Oh, do tell.” The shopkeeper stretched leisurely, indifferent to the strange looks from everyone. “Perhaps my overrated abilities are just enough for you.”
‘Great, here we go,’ Shivers thought expressionlessly.
His master had inherited his title early and was always the most noble and autocratic person in his domain, usually not allowing anyone to speak to him in such a tone.
Especially since that sounded more like a tit-for-tat mockery.
Dwight indeed frowned, and just when the other two in the room thought he was about to explode in anger, he turned to look outside instead.
The porch light had gone out at some unknown point, and it was pitch black outside.
Something clicked in his mind, and he suddenly remembered something.
On the night Priscilla left Brandenburg, he had stood on the highest tower of the castle looking out, but the ground was pitch black, and the occasional dim stars in the sky didn’t illuminate her path at all.
Charlie saw the Duke lift his head, his eyes devoid of emotion.
‘He’s really beautiful,’ the rabbit-headed shopkeeper thought inappropriately.
“Assuming you adhere to human customs,” the Duke slowly said, “could you at least make some tea for your guest?”
Just as he’s quirky and sarcastic.
The shopkeeper thought to himself again.
Ten minutes later, Dwight, ever so picky, had settled himself into a black walnut armchair, while Shivers was given a patchwork cotton-backed chair—which Dwight glanced at and quickly looked away from, convinced that bad taste could be contagious through the air.
But at least everyone was comfortable now. Even the two knights who had been waiting outside were resting in a small living room with a fireplace, and Charlie had considerately taken the two white horses to his warm stable as well.
Charlie brewed a large pot of milk, seemingly determined to prove he wasn’t just a carrot-eating rabbit, and he specially brought out almond cake and butter cookies.
Dwight didn’t touch the butter cookies.
Charlie seemed not to mind his arrogance at all, smiling and gesturing for him to please help himself.
Shivers pulled out a slender velvet box, unadorned except for the pure gold clasp that clicked pleasingly when opened.
A delicate pink rose lay quietly inside the box, which, despite its understated appearance, must have been enchanted in some way, as the fragile petals still bore morning dew.
It was a fresh and tender flower that inevitably evoked pity.
But Charlie only glanced at it before looking away.
“What?” Dwight asked nonchalantly, noticing that the other’s flippant, long ears had stopped moving.
“Regrettably,” Charlie said softly, “its life force is rapidly fading.”
He could guess why the young Duke had come to Elmwood Street.
Shivers, holding the box, moved his hand almost imperceptibly, slightly incredulous. Had this ridiculous rabbit guessed their purpose without the Duke even saying a word?
The room suddenly fell eerily quiet, and Dwight glanced out the window, noticing that the snow had stopped.
“My mother once told me about Priscilla’s birth,” he said softly.
His sister, Priscilla, was the first child of the Duke and Duchess. She was also born in winter, but it wasn’t very cold. When the news of her safe birth and a tax break spread from the castle, everyone in the domain celebrated the Duke’s benevolence and the birth of a new life. Gifts from all over were continuously brought into the castle. Fairies from the woods personally came to bless her and planted a cluster of pink roses in the Duchess’s greenhouse, telling her that her daughter would have a face as delicate and beautiful as a flower, and if she was willing to smile, even the most hard-hearted person in the world couldn’t bear to hurt her with even a finger.
That cluster of roses grew up with Priscilla, and by the time Priscilla was fifteen, it had taken over the entire greenhouse.
“The rose was mostly vibrant—only twice in my memory was that not the case.”
Dwight unconsciously stroked the gem on his cane, his drooping eyelashes casting a shadow under his eyes.
The first time was when he was still very young, Priscilla fell seriously ill, and every day different doctors came and went from the castle. The Duke and Duchess, exhausted, stood vigil by their daughter’s bedside, but didn’t allow Dwight to come near his sister’s room.
So little Dwight visited the greenhouse daily to see his “sister’s roses”, and although the maids still took great care of it, the roses wilted day by day, causing the anxious and capricious Dwight to lose his temper several times.
He couldn’t remember which doctor cured Priscilla, but he remembered the day when his mother allowed him to look at Priscilla from a distance in her bedroom, and the lackluster rose began to sprout new shoots again.
The second time was when they lost their parents at the same time. Priscilla locked herself in her room and cried for days, her tears causing the petals of the rose to fall, but they eventually perked up again—when the castle was shrouded in gloom, Priscilla put on her grandest dress, walked out of her room, took Dwight’s hand, and announced that Brandenburg was about to welcome its youngest master ever.
“Forgive my bluntness, but you probably already have an answer in mind,” Charlie said softly.
Dwight looked up. “So I’m seeking a solution.”
Doing nothing or resigning himself to fate wasn’t his style.
“So, what do you want from me?” Charlie asked.
A smiley-faced rabbit was certainly odd, but a serious expression was equally unsuited to a rabbit.
As Dwight pondered absentmindedly, he said, “That depends on what you can do.”
“What I can do is probably more than you think,” Charlie said, relaxing in the armchair and contentedly slurping down half a glass of milk. “In my shop, this has never been an issue.”
“So what’s the problem?” Dwight keenly sensed his implication.
The rabbit shopkeeper didn’t answer immediately but first stretched lazily, then turned to look at the arrogant Duke.
“The price.”
He said.
Of course, there were no people who could solve everything by snapping their fingers. Rather than saying he “grants wishes”, Charlie preferred to say he sold “directions for solving problems” to customers.
Priscilla had married at seventeen into the distant Southern Continent of Doran, where her partner was also a noble holding power and wealth. Both parties, in such positions and standings, meant that Dwight couldn’t rashly set foot on the other’s territory without correspondence or invitation beforehand.
And a duke shouldn’t travel alone to any unfamiliar places, but if accompanied by armed forces, then the moment he arrived at the destination, the other party could take it as a declaration of war.
The cunning shopkeeper knew what the young Duke cared about most.
“Even the most powerful mage’s crystal ball can’t always be clear, and human eyes are easily deceived,” Charlie said. “But the stars don’t lie.”
“You know astrology?” Dwight stared at him, his tone a bit dangerous, as if to say, “Admit it, and you die right here.”
Astrology was an extremely rare talent, and across several continents, there were no more than five astrologers who could read the trajectories of the stars and interpret the future—and those five were either controlled by empires or had disappeared.
As far as Dwight knew, two astrologers belonged to different empires, and one, though of pure blood and ability, was too old to get out of bed, effectively non-existent.
Other astrologers almost only lived in rumors.
“Of course not.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper shrugged. “But I can give you results.”
Dwight narrowed his eyes at him for a moment. “How do I know you’re not just spouting nonsense to trick me?”
“It’s simple,” the shopkeeper said. “You might not believe me, but no one would doubt Astrologer Kurt.”
Astrologer Kurt, one of the three remaining famous astrologers and precisely the one known to Dwight as “missing”.
“Do you know where Kurt is?” Dwight immediately asked.
If it was Kurt’s astrological results, indeed, there was little to doubt, and it would be far more effective than hiring a hundred pretentious fortune tellers.
Charlie wagged his finger. “I can arrange a meeting for you.”
Dwight, seeing his confident demeanor, felt somewhat displeased.
But the noble upbringing he had received from childhood wouldn’t allow him to show too much emotion, so he suppressed his impatience and said indifferently, “Deal.”
Charlie laughed. “Not just yet, Your Lordship.”
Dwight looked at him.
“You missed the most important part of doing business,” he said softly. “We haven’t negotiated a price yet.”
“What do you want?” Dwight asked nonchalantly, knowing that if he really could bring in an astrologer, ordinary compensation would hardly suffice to sway this peculiar rabbit.
Charlie’s long ears stood up, annoyingly twitching.
“Two things.” Charlie put the teacup back on the tray, crossed his hands on his lap, and leaned back comfortably in the chair. “First, I want a promise, in your name, Duke Dwight, that when I ask, you must fulfill my request to the fullest extent, without reservation. I won’t cash this in immediately. Until then, please take care.”
Shivers looked at Charlie with an unfriendly gaze. “What do you mean by ‘please take care’?”
It’s almost as if the rabbit was saying, “Don’t you dare die or lose your title and wealth before you’ve paid me.”
What kind of remark is that!
Dwight ignored Charlie’s provocation and calmly signaled for him to continue.
“The second,” Charlie said with a smile, drawing out his tone, “is for you to beg me.”
This was the coldest winter in the history of Lemena.
Cotton-like, heavy snow enveloped the entire northern continent overnight, making it difficult to even find any traces of the cold-resistant long-tailed foxes. Thick snow covered the roofs and streetlamps, making all of Lemena look like a giant gingerbread house cake. People had piled up high stacks of firewood early and resolved to spend the entire long winter by the roaring fireplace and with warm mushroom soup.
Only one place was an exception.
Brandenburg and its surroundings didn’t have a speck of snow, as if a gentle hand had brushed away all the snowflakes above it. In the central courtyard of this castle, a huge greenhouse was steaming with warmth.
“Your Lordship, the elves’ magic can maintain a stable temperature inside the castle, but these roses are getting more haggard by the day.” Two gardeners had their heads bowed, not daring to look at their master.
The young master of the castle, Duke Dwight, stood in the greenhouse with his head lowered as he looked at the listless roses.
“These are Priscilla’s flowers,” he said softly. “I want them all to survive.”
But he had tried everything—he had hired the best craftsmen to maintain the greenhouse, the best gardeners to care for the seedlings, and had asked the elves to keep Brandenburg’s climate in perpetual spring before the harsh winter arrived, but no matter what he did, the flowers continued to wither.
“Think of something else,” he said to his butler standing by.
“If even the elves can’t do it…” the butler cautiously began.
“It’s not only elves who can do magic,” the Duke said nonchalantly. “Angels haven’t descended for almost three hundred years. What about demons?”
The butler shuddered inside.
“Demons only manipulate the undead. They’re not skilled in life magic,” he quickly countered.
“What other way is there?” The Duke looked at his butler.
The young Duke, not yet twenty, inherited his mother’s fair skin and exceptional facial features, which gave him a beauty that transcended gender, captivating to anyone who laid eyes on him. Although he seldom left Brandenburg, poets celebrated his “almost angelic” appearance, and it had become widely known.
Only the butler knew that his master’s personality was far from as clear and innocent as his appearance suggested.
He thought for a moment, then cautiously said, “Perhaps there are other ways.”
The Duke turned to look at him.
“Legend has it that on the other side of the Lake of Sighs, in the town of Maplewood, there’s a shop,” the butler said. “I’ve heard knights mention that the shop owner can fulfill all sorts of wishes to some extent.”
The Duke raised an eyebrow sarcastically. “‘Fulfill all wishes’?”
Except for the God of Creation, who else could boast such a thing?
The butler fell silent. Such joke-like rumors weren’t supposed to be brought up before the noble Duke, but a returned scribe had earnestly claimed in front of him that this magical shop had fulfilled some absurd wish of a king, earning a reward beyond ordinary people’s imaginations, more than enough to buy the entire town of Maplewood.
The greenhouse fell into a brief silence.
“Call the Knight Commander,” the Duke said nonchalantly. “I want him to make a trip before the snow stops.”
Lake of Sighs by name alone sounded like a good place for a spring picnic or an autumn stroll—and indeed it was. Only it was much larger than an ordinary lake, and its winter lakeside scenery wasn’t at all beautiful, especially this year with such cold weather. The wind, mixed with snow foam, blew incessantly, and the rigid black tree branches reached straight into the sky like countless witches’ fingers.
Around ten o’clock at night, the gatekeeper of Maplewood, Atto, rubbed his red eyes. He had drunk a lot that day and wanted to go to bed early, so he decided to close the gate a bit earlier. After all, with such cold weather, no one would come.
He shivered as he wrapped himself tightly in his dogskin coat and just stepped out of the hut when the cold wind sobered him up considerably.
It wasn’t yet deep winter, but the temperature was simply hellish. Atto had been outside for less than a minute when his hands froze, and he struggled to extend his arms, trying to remove the lantern hanging on the gate.
Just then, a horse’s neigh came from the nearby darkness. Atto paused for a moment, his alcohol-addled brain taking two minutes to kick into gear.
“This damn weather!” he grumbled loudly, and although reluctant, he still approached the wooden window to look outside.
Three tall white horses broke through the pitch-black night, galloping rapidly towards him, making Atto shiver, his clumsy fingers fumbling to unlock the large lock.
He saw a golden ducal crest on the carriage pulled by the horses.
A fully armored, tall knight looked down at him.
“Good evening, gatekeeper,” he said. “My Master needs a place to rest tonight.”
Maplewood welcomed a distinguished guest on a bitterly cold winter night.
Sheriff John stumbled out of the door to greet the sudden arrival of the noble Duke. His wife frantically directed the maids to change the sheets, spray perfume, and hastily clean the hallways. She unnecessarily woke up her two plump daughters, ordering them to respectfully wait by the door with jugs of water and bread.
On the other side, the sheriff nervously allowed the tall knight to scrutinize him up and down.
“I have prepared the best room for Your Lordship,” the sheriff said eagerly. “The stove is burning very warmly, and we have also prepared the finest Molida Island wine.”
Knight Commander Shivers nodded slightly, turned around, and the two knights accompanying him stepped forward to open the carriage door.
The sheriff, although he knew he shouldn’t, couldn’t help but sneak a peek—the young Duke, famous across the continent for his beauty, was someone everyone had only heard about in legends, and such a legendary figure had actually come to his town. Even the most old-fashioned monk in the monastery would surely be tempted to take a look.
Unfortunately, he only caught a glimpse of a white-gloved hand lightly knocking on the carriage door.
Understanding the cue, Shivers, with a stern face, said, “We encountered nightmarish monsters by the Lake of Sighs. Only with the blessing of the God of Light were we able to arrive safely. My Master wishes to first go to the church to pray, to ward off evil spirits, and to listen for guidance.”
After finishing, he didn’t wait for the sheriff’s dumbfounded expression and mounted his horse.
The sheriff’s enthusiasm was instantly doused, but he still remembered not to neglect the Duke, and hurriedly went forward to lead the way personally.
Shivers didn’t stop. A baby-faced young knight, smiling affably, intercepted him, whispered a few words, and quickly followed the carriage away.
The sheriff’s wife waited in the warm corridor for half a day, but the handsome young Duke didn’t arrive. Anxious, she fussed over her daughters’ skirts while stretching her neck to peek around.
“Dear.” She finally saw her husband come in and quickly lowered her voice. “The Duke…”
After dismissing all the servants, the sheriff said, “Let Lily and Sissy go to sleep. The Duke isn’t staying.”
The sheriff’s wife immediately widened her eyes. “He’s not staying? Then where is the Duke going?”
The sheriff hesitantly said, “The church.”
But honestly, anyone could tell that was just a pretext from the Knight Commander. The church in winter didn’t even have a stove, and not to brag, but if the Duke didn’t fancy even the best house in town, which was the sheriff’s residence, where else could he go?
However, the sheriff’s wife was pondering another question.
“Could the Duke be going to Mona’s place?” She raised her voice. “That vile, dirty—”
“Who’s Mona?”
Duke Dwight sat in the carriage. Despite the long and cold journey, his robe remained impeccably smooth, accentuating his usually pale skin, making him look like a beautifully dressed ice sculpture.
Shivers, seated on his horse, breathed out a puff of white air. “People call her the red agate on the silver goblet, a midsummer night’s dream—”
He caught a glimpse of his master’s cold expression through the carriage window and immediately clammed up. “The innkeeper of the town, rumored to be a passionate beauty.”
The young Duke lowered his eyes, casually stroking the emerald on the top of his silver-handled cane. His tone was so calm, it was almost mocking. “A beauty?”
Shivers felt quite wronged. The Dwight family had always been known for their power and beauty. Honestly, if he had the Duke’s looks, even just looking in the mirror every day would make it hard to be interested in any beauty, let alone a widow from the countryside—but what could he do? That poor sheriff certainly couldn’t guess that the Duke didn’t stay because he didn’t like his looks. Shivers himself had never been to Maplewood before, and it took some digging to remember an inn famous for its beautiful innkeeper, which was not only dismissed but also mocked by his master.
It was already deep into the night, and the streets were almost deserted. The black cast iron lampposts were covered with a thick layer of frost. The faint light from the streetlamps seemed about to be frozen solid, so dim it appeared it might go out the next second.
However, the luxuriously enchanted carriage emitted a faint warmth both inside and out, lending an absurd sense of humor to the silent streetscape.
Dwight was silent for a while before finally saying, “Go to Elmwood Street.”
In the dimly lit whispers of taverns, beside the campfires of weary rangers, even in the songs of minstrels, this address and the mysterious little shop it contained often came up.
22 Paulownia Street, Maplewood.
Glory, wealth, or youth that lasts,
My promises may not come to pass,
Before you ring, take heed, beware,
Make a wish, traveler with care,
Whatever your heart does yearn,
Whatever your deepest desires burn.
The midnight street was eerily quiet. Most of the cobblestone streets were covered with snow. The noble carriage could only go as far as the street corner—the stone houses on either side squeezed tightly upwards, the road so narrow that at most two people could walk side by side.
Expensive boots made a crunching sound on the snow. The severe cold had most households tightly shut their doors and windows, unwilling to let even a bit of light escape, making the faint light at the end of the street seem like a dream.
Dwight stopped in front of the steps, his beautiful pale irises staring at a uniformed tin soldier standing by the door. Before he could approach, the previously motionless tin soldier suddenly jerked as if glitching.
Dwight: “……”
What is this?
Tin Soldier: “Guests! Charlie! Charlie!”
The tin soldier’s shrill voice was unusually loud in the winter night. Before the Duke and his Knight Commander could react, the heavy wooden door creaked and slowly opened from the inside.
“Excuse me.” A gentle male voice came from inside. “Close the door behind you—it’s really too cold today, isn’t it?”
The half-open door let out warm yellow light. Right next to it was a long counter, cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends. A figure was half-crouched behind the counter, seemingly fixing something, making a delicate clattering noise.
Seemingly startled by the breeze that swept in through the door, the figure stood up and shouted at them, “Do me a favor, please don’t stand on my doorstep in a daze!”
Dwight’s eyebrows twitched, and Shivers instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword.
Standing behind the counter was a rabbit.
To be precise, it was a creature with the body of a normal man but the head of a Lloyd Country Rabbit above the neck—fluffy, long-eared, round, and big eyes staring at the two visitors, startled, with a disapproving look.
Kinky Thoughts:
I’ve been a fan of western fantasy, especially ever since I read Stray. This was a recommendation from a friend, and I quite like it, so I decided to pick it up.
In a state between sleep and wakefulness, his insides felt as if they had melted into a pool of blood, and there was an indescribable swelling sensation throughout his body, as if something was about to burst out of him at any second.
Unfortunately, he rather liked that dream. After waking up, he wanted to kiss his boyfriend again.
“Thank you for your assistance. We are now even.”
Nol opened his eyes, just in time to hear Teest’s conversation with Subelbot. Subelbot’s attitude had improved considerably—not in a content and satisfied manner, but in one that held a certain wariness. This ancient dragon leader had finally realized that a war beyond his understanding was brewing in this land.
Compared to when Teest showed his might, the dragon was now even more cautious. He seemed to have a new judgment about Paradise, which was good news.
‘Perhaps this time, it was because he had leaked some power,’ Nol thought. He could feel a bit of his own power fluctuating on Teest. Maybe Teest had taken something from him.
But when he tried to recall it, the dream slipped away. Just like a normal dream, it faded quickly after waking up.
Nol shifted his gaze towards Painter not far away. Painter had a complicated expression, and Nol couldn’t quite tell what emotion he was trying to express. But he knew, at least, that it wasn’t approval.
Nol held his buzzing head. The discomfort still lingered in his chest and abdomen, as if someone had thrown a stone inside his organs. He sat up from the stone floor, admiring the beautiful decorations inside Subelbot’s cave. Under the morning light, the gold objects emitted a dazzling halo, as if they had never been touched by the night.
During the previous meeting, Nol was somewhat unsure of what to say, so he left the communication to his more experienced teammate. Now, he chose to remain silent on his own initiative, trying to appear dazed.
“Honey, let’s go back,” Teest said to him with a smile. For a moment, Nol caught a fragment of the dream again.
“Can you check on Lynn and the others for me? I’d like some quiet for a while. My ears are still buzzing,” Nol said softly. “I’ll come find you later, I promise.”
Teest was clearly surprised by this request, pondering for a couple of seconds before nodding hesitantly.
“Thank you for your help. I’m not in good shape right now, but I will point out the treasures within the Dragon’s Lair for you.” After making sure Teest left first, Nol stood up with the help of the stone slab and gave a slight bow to Subelbot.
In the corner of his eye, Painter quietly disappeared. But not ten steps out of the cave, the former Pope’s ankle was entangled by fine vines.
“Your methods are becoming more and more similar. How sweet.” Painter chuckled helplessly.
Behind him, a somewhat weakened Nol leaned against the wall as he walked out.
“You left too hastily,” Nol said quietly.
Painter: “Forgive my impatience. I just wanted to deliver the sword as soon as possible.”
“You think Teest is hiding something very dangerous.” Nol didn’t respond and instead continued on his own, “And your allegiance is not to ‘Paradise’ but to ‘Tahe’. Delivering the god-slaying sword as soon as possible is the most deterrent option.”
“Ah, well, you’re especially astute at times like this.” Painter spread his hands. “Based on my understanding of you two, if Mr. Teest really failed, he would definitely show more disappointment or impatience.”
“The Mad Monk is a master of disguising emotions. He shouldn’t have such flaws normally. It’s thanks to you. You’ve introduced many emotions he hasn’t figured out yet…”
“So, you think my situation is very bad, and what Star Stealer Sol called ‘the source of disaster’ is likely the truth.”
Nol wasn’t swayed by Painter’s ramblings. “I have the potential to destroy everything, or worse, I once had plans to destroy everything, but just sealed it temporarily.”
Painter shrugged, not answering directly. “Are you here to take the ‘Dominator’ sword?”
Nol didn’t answer directly either. “Please draw it out.”
The sun had fully risen, pouring down golden sunlight. The two stood on a towering stone platform, not far from Subelbot’s nest. The sunlight stretched the shadow of the stone platform long, making them seem like part of a sundial.
Painter sighed several times, drawing the long sword without humility. He stared at Nol seriously, his light green eyes devoid of humor.
A great mage’s physical strength was poor, and the divine longsword was exceptionally heavy; he needed both hands to hold it steady. The blade shone brightly, as if forged from sunlight.
Its power was undeniable. “Slaying gods” wasn’t just an empty phrase. But just by its design, it really didn’t suit Teest, Nol thought.
And since it was made by Star Stealer Sol, who knew if there were any tricks involved?
Nol took out the letter opener from his pocket, cut his hand again, and dripped blood onto the handle of the letter opener. After completing these actions, he placed the letter opener gently on the sword blade, activating the [Creator] skill.
The bloodied letter opener gradually merged into the blade, dimming the bright light slightly, and a faint red halo appeared on the blade.
Using that drop of blood, the letter opener remained in an activated state, identifying Nol as the user.
With the letter opener merged into the “Dominator”—
“Now it can not only slay gods but also Players. Teest definitely won’t like this sword. Please keep it a secret for me.” Nol said, “As a reward, I’ve checked for you. Star Stealer Sol hasn’t tampered with the sword. Go give it to the person you have in mind. I trust your judgment.”
Painter raised his eyebrows. “Such significant power, and you’re just handing it over to me?”
“I think no matter what I become, Teest won’t hurt me,” Nol said. “Assuming I… I truly fall into madness, at least before that happens, I want to leave hope for Tahe.”
“Oh.” Painter’s eyebrows rose higher. “It seems you have no intention of considering Star Stealer Sol’s proposal.”
Nol fell silent, he looked up, gazing at the vast blue sky over the Dragon’s Lair for a while.
“To minimize casualties, letting Star Stealer Sol end me might be a good option.” Nol said, “But I’m actually not good at these—I mean, the current me isn’t good at these intrigues. My only way to resist its schemes is to not believe anything it says.”
“If I’m killed by a creature nurtured by Tahe, at least it would be a fitting end. If things progress to that point, indeed, there will be many sacrifices, but……”
Painter narrowed his eyes.
“…But I want to live, no matter how bad the current situation is.” Under the sunlight, the Creator’s blue eyes were almost transparent. “There’s still my sealed neighbor in the system, and methods for returning home are waiting for me to explore. I don’t want to leave behind the person I love.”
“I want to live. I don’t want to give up prematurely for some possibility—I’ve thought it through. This is my selfishness. Maybe I’m not the god you were expecting.”
Painter suddenly smiled, his smile growing wider until he burst into laughter.
“No, no.” The former Pope shook his head repeatedly. “In my opinion, a god with flesh and blood and selfishness is definitely better than an absolutely rational machine—people can pray to the former, communicate with the former, which the latter cannot do.”
With that, he sheathed the long sword and bowed deeply.
“Rest assured, I will choose a good master for this sword.” Painter’s face still wore a smile. “I hope that in the end, we will become your sword and shield, rather than your rebellious subjects.”
A whirlwind rose at Painter’s feet, and at the same time, his presence gradually faded. He leapt from the Dragon’s Lair and melted into the wind.
The former Pope had left.
Nol remained on the stone platform, looking into the distance. From this height, he could see the golden edge of the horizon, the mist rolling among the lush shrubs, and patches of forest so beautiful they took one’s breath away.
The sunlight fell on him, soft and warm. It was always cloudy in his memories. It seemed like a long time since he had simply enjoyed the sun like this.
However, he had more important things to do than enjoy the sunlight; things that were equally soft and warm.
Nol returned to his room and immediately saw Teest sitting on the bed. His knight was eating soft cookies with cheese spread and almost choked when Nol suddenly returned.
“Lynn, Dorothy, and Kando aren’t in their rooms. Only that stupid Barto puppet is,” he said, licking the cheese spread from the corners of his mouth.
Nol: “And then?”
“You asked me to check on their situation, and I have. They are not there,” Teest said warily. “You wouldn’t expect me to go looking for them, would you? I was waiting for you to come back.”
He knew he had to lay out every step if he wanted the Mad Monk to do anything reliable. Nol pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s hear your findings first. We all know that the magic definitely didn’t fail.”
Teest’s gaze drifted away again. “You asked me to take you to Perradat’s ‘core’, saying that guy would figure things out.”
“It sounds like there’s hope. Don’t pass the message. Just use telepathy to let me see the images—in case there’s a misunderstanding, that wouldn’t be good,” Nol said.
Teest quickly swallowed the rest of his cookie and hummed lengthily. “Asking Kando would still be more efficient, don’t you think? This could be a wonderful opportunity to mend your relationship with them. You… Hm!”
Nol decisively stepped forward and embraced Teest. He could feel Teest’s heart beating rapidly beneath his ribs. It suddenly sped up a few beats.
“It seems things are really bad,” Nol said, as Teest’s body stiffened slightly in his arms. “I won’t look. Just tell me why, okay?”
Teest muttered indistinctly, taking a while before speaking.
“You’ve become too strong. The knowledge seal can’t suppress you now. Your own—your subconscious—doesn’t seem to know what to do either, only saying to go find Perradat.”
“Okay, I got it,” Nol said, casually stroking that long hair. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Just like that? That’s it?” Teest seemed surprised. “Aren’t you afraid I’m lying to you, or hiding something?”
“No.” Nol said, “Let’s go. I have a lot more to do. Like giving myself some more self-weakening curses—the kind that can be undone—”
The Dragon’s Lair certainly didn’t lack curses. To Nol’s knowledge, a dragon’s tomb should have a dozen curse gift packs. By now, Nol vaguely sensed the meaning behind the [Physical Destruction] curse.
This curse severely suppressed his stats, preventing him from rapidly becoming stronger when he knew nothing of the world. Without it, would he have lost control even earlier?
If he was already on the verge of losing control, and the “Goddess of Life” made her descent among the Players, it would definitely be a different situation.
In the battle with the Dracolich of the Dragon’s Lair, both he and Teest received what was called a curse, a blessing. The system’s assistance was spot on, perhaps too much so, almost like a pre-designed contingency plan.
The entity capable of such an act was clearly not Star Stealer Sol—that guy couldn’t even set up a mainline quest properly. His control over system powers wasn’t to this extent.
Things seem to be getting more interesting, Nol thought. Behind all these terrifying experiences, it seemed something deeper was hidden.
The evidence was, despite all he had gone through recently—his life and the world have been put on the balance, and imminent ruin was at hand, but he wasn’t truly panicked or tormented.
It was a subtly unreasonable calm.
Of course, the priority was to figure out where Lynn and the others had gone. Nol turned his head to see Teest, still with surprised eyes. His knight seemed shocked by his unconditional trust.
Nol couldn’t help but embrace Teest again, kissing his forehead.
He had intended to kiss his lips, but he suddenly wanted to do this instead. It was a subtly unreasonable familiarity, with a fleetingness like awakening from a dream.
He wished for his compatriots to return home and for Tahe to have a perfect ending. This had always been what he was praying for, and now, Nol suddenly had a small wish.
If all this was part of a plan.
I hope you’re not part of the plan, honey.
……
The serpentman prophet was missing.
The moment Lynn realized this, a chill went through her heart. Given that the serpentman prophet had triggered Star Stealer Sol’s divine descent projection, if this individual was a deeply hidden follower of Star Stealer Sol, things could get complicated.
Even if the serpentman prophet was a compatriot, compatriots had various attitudes. She remembered those Players who called themselves “Demons” and indulged in killing. Star Stealer Sol was skilled at beguiling hearts. Who knew what troubles it could stir up.
Without waiting for Dorothy to plead, Lynn rushed out. Taking with her Tom and Jerry, two puppet companions, she followed the tracks on the ground. Just to be safe, she also took Kando, who had been left in the room.
Halfway through, she even thought the serpent had gotten drunk. The tracks on the ground were erratic. The serpentman prophet seemed to wander near the battlefield, going wherever it pleased.
“You know you can’t use me, right?” Kando spoke from her bag. “Ugh, it’s so nauseating being jostled about. What did you bring me out for?”
“Nol isn’t here. I need some help.” Lynn scanned her surroundings sharply. “I can’t let her step into the Lost Tower if she’s a traitor.”
Leaves rustled under her boots. In the distance, the undead dragon Telistam yawned, exhaling a small puff of cyan flame.
“I’m just a candle now. Don’t expect too much from a candle,” Kando said.
Lynn ignored the chatter. “Nol said you’re well-versed in all things combat. If—shh!”
She spotted the slender figure of the serpentman. Lilith was standing on a lawn, gazing in a certain direction like a statue. Lynn looked that way but saw nothing.
Just to be safe, it was better to bring her back first. Lynn gestured, and the two puppet servants, Tom and Jerry, moved quietly, surrounding Lilith.
The Supreme Domination Witch’s sneak attack ability was ranked in the top ten among monsters. Such monsters had dark and concealed magical fluctuations. But puppets were dead things and emitted no presence. Just as the two puppets neared, Lilith abruptly turned around.
The serpentman prophet’s eyes turned into a unique glowing blue, shining brightly like a clear sky. Those eyes swept towards Lynn’s hiding spot, and Lilith’s face broke into a sweet smile.
The next moment, the blue faded away. Lilith’s expression became somewhat confused, and Lynn didn’t miss this chance, sending the two puppets at her again.
This time, before they took a few steps, they fell under a blaze of cyan flame. Kando, somehow, had floated up between Lynn and Lilith, its single blue eye wide open.
“Kando?!”
“The presence of my god, Perradat.” Kando spoke with seriousness. “Sorry, miss. You can’t touch her yet.”
“Is that so?”
Lynn didn’t lower her guard. She slightly crouched, the nearby soil stirring as more mud puppets slowly took shape. “I must say, our team is just fabulous.”
The pent-up frustration finally found an outlet.
“The team leader turns into a hostile monster at the drop of a hat, his obsessive killer is swinging the ‘Betrayer’ around daily. The apostate old fox appears out of nowhere, the neighbor we picked up sneaks out alone, and now even you block me—if I don’t betray something, I feel like I don’t fit in.”
Behind Kando, Lilith was already prepared for battle.
Poison orbs floated around her, and golden symbols spun, arranging into sentences Lynn couldn’t understand.
“Which Dragon’s Lair rule says I can’t go out?” Lilith shouted. “You all were gone. Can’t I take a walk?”
Perradat’s divine grace turned out to be quite useful. Now, she could make very short predictions in combat without the need for lengthy prayers for prophecies.
With this, she could escape even if she couldn’t win, giving Lilith more confidence in her words.
“Taking a stroll to the battlefield. Quite the leisurely pastime,” Lynn said. “Even a note would have made this whole situation less abrupt—Perradat’s presence? What are you hiding from us?”
Strange, Lynn thought. This argument feels oddly smooth.
Lilith’s spells charged menacingly. “Even if I went to Paradise, I don’t need to spill my secrets to you!”
‘Arguing with this one is indeed more stimulating than fighting,’ Lilith thought.
“You’re not that old, are you? I need to ensure everyone’s safety! Come back with me now and explain everything—”
Lynn clenched her fists, and the army of mud puppets roared softly.
Kando looked left and right. He slowly landed, then crawled steadily away to find a suitable rock for spectating.
“I’ll go back if I want to. It’s none of your business,” Lilith said unhappily. “I’m under pressure too. Can’t you speak nicely? You start off with this lecturing tone, and you’re not even my sister!”
The air suddenly became tense.
Kinky Thoughts:
Pretty sure we have a good idea of who Painter is going to give that sword to (given the oracles that were revealed).
After hearing Zhou Qian’s words, He Xiaowei was still uneasy. He felt that Zhou Qian might still be observing something through him.
However, without Zhou Qian, he would have been dead long ago. With this thought, He Xiaowei no longer hesitated. After swallowing his saliva, he prepared to walk towards the three NPCs. But before he could get there, Zhou Qian suddenly patted him on the shoulder.
“Wait,” Zhou Qian said.
“What’s up?” He Xiaowei asked.
“My son is back,” Zhou Qian replied, then fell silent for a moment.
As He Xiaowei turned around to ask what he meant, he saw a deep blue little dragon standing on Zhou Qian’s shoulder, whispering something to him. After a while, Zhou Qian looked up at He Xiaowei and said, “Paper, rock, scissors, scissors, paper, rock. For the first six rounds of rock-paper-scissors, follow this sequence.”
He Xiaowei’s eyes lit up. He rubbed his hands together and asked in a low voice, “So, what does this mean? Will I win or lose with this?”
“The final outcome, as I said before, is up to you. But start with these six rounds to buy some time,” Zhou Qian said.
“Just… to buy time?” He Xiaowei frowned.
“Yes. I just need a little time to figure out what’s going on with this game,” Zhou Qian explained. “We still don’t know how many rounds this game will have. No matter who wins or loses at the beginning, eventually there will likely be a need for the players to run around in circles. Just buy some time and leave the rest to me.”
Although He Xiaowei sometimes liked to verbally spar with Zhou Qian after getting to know him, it was all in jest during inconsequential moments.
At this point, he had come to trust Zhou Qian completely in every respect. He immediately memorized the sequence Zhou Qian told him, and as the village chief began to hurry them, he moved towards the final showdown arena.
The other three winning NPCs consisted of two men and a woman. With He Xiaowei joining, it became a rock-paper-scissors game with three men and one woman.
He Xiaowei followed Zhou Qian’s advice for six rounds, and indeed, in these six rounds, rock, paper, scissors all appeared simultaneously.
In the blink of an eye, the seventh round started.
He Xiaowei wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he felt the gazes from the two men and the woman on him were somewhat abnormal.
He swallowed another gulp of saliva and looked back. The sun had set a bit more, and amidst the bustling crowd, he couldn’t spot Zhou Qian at that moment. He had no choice but to follow Zhou Qian’s advice—just play it by ear, win or lose, and leave it to fate.
In the seventh round, He Xiaowei and a muscular man both threw scissors, while the other slim young man and the only woman both threw paper. Thus, in the eighth round, it came down to a duel between He Xiaowei and the muscular man.
Before throwing, He Xiaowei swallowed his saliva for the third time, his hands shaking with nervousness, until he remembered Zhou Qian’s confident, glowing eyes in the sunset right before joining the final match. This helped calm his nerves somewhat, and he threw his hand simultaneously with the muscular man—
Meanwhile, Zhou Qian went to look for other clues while He Xiaowei was buying time.
The reason Zhou Qian could instruct He Xiaowei to throw accurately and buy time was, of course, thanks to the little dragon.
The little dragon’s gaze, memory, and agility were all quite impressive.
Earlier, during the initial rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Zhou Qian had the little dragon roam around to memorize. It actually managed to remember the throwing habits of the three winners.
Zhou Qian could then predict their next moves and direct He Xiaowei accordingly. His goal was indeed just to create ties and buy time, not necessarily to make He Xiaowei lose or win.
Thus, it wouldn’t matter if those people suddenly changed their habits midway. Because when throwing, the first two choices among rock, paper, scissors are usually fixed. So, the time bought by these two ties was almost enough for Zhou Qian to make use of.
After instructing He Xiaowei, Zhou Qian patted the little dragon’s head and said with a smile, “My little dragon is really impressive. Is it because your dad is just that great, right?”
After saying this, Zhou Qian turned back to meet Bai Zhou’s gaze not far behind.
“I was praising the little dragon. You’re the big dragon.”
With this tease, Zhou Qian noticed the movements of the innkeeper, Tartar, and made a silencing gesture to Bai Zhou with his index finger, then turned around to walk towards her.
Not long ago, at the start of the in-group rock-paper-scissors competition, Zhou Qian had been keeping an eye on Tartar’s movements. He noticed Tartar speaking to three villagers who weren’t participating in the game, seemingly instructing them on something before they headed towards the inn.
Zhou Qian approached Tartar because those three people had returned from the direction of the inn.
Each of the three people was pulling a wooden cart with wheels, bringing three different things.
The first person brought a cart full of Jack-o’-lanterns. The second was hauling a cart with peculiar costumes and monster masks. The third brought over a large pot of meat. His cart not only had a pot of meat but also many large iron bowls that wouldn’t break easily.
When Zhou Qian and the others first arrived for the game, they had seen seven large iron pots for stewing meat at the entrance of the inn. It was presumed that the meat came from those pots. But… who was it for?
Recalling his journey from the Tartar Inn to the square, in addition to noticing the head statue facing west turning blue and the glass on the second floor of the inn also shimmering blue, Zhou Qian remembered another detail—all the households in the village had dogs, all of which were pure white.
When Zhou Qian had a guess in his mind, he happened to see Tartar taking down large iron bowls from the third cart, neatly arranging them at the edge of the square, then using a large iron spoon to ladle the meat into the bowls, one by one.
Walking a few more steps forward, Zhou Qian made his way through the crowd to stand before innkeeper Tartar.
With a smile, Zhou Qian asked, “Beautiful innkeeper, may I ask you something?”
Tartar, seemingly pleased to be called “beautiful”, scooped some meat into a bowl in front of her and asked Zhou Qian, “What is it?”
“Who is this meat for?” Zhou Qian inquired.
Tartar smiled without speaking. Zhou Qian then asked, “The villagers are very kind to dogs. Is this for them?”
Tartar gave Zhou Qian a meaningful look before finally saying, “The villagers believe that animals are spirits that can lead humans into other worlds. The purer the animal’s fur color, the stronger its spiritual power, allowing it to communicate with beings from other worlds.”
Zhou Qian asked, “You’ve taken great care of the white dogs, specially stewing meat for them tonight, so they can communicate with beings from other worlds and thus protect you? So, they are important.”
Tartar said, “Dogs, Jack-o’-lanterns, and these costumes are all very important. Dogs can help us identify beings from other worlds through communication, warning us in advance if there is danger. The jack-o’-lanterns and peculiar costumes can make us appear as beings from other worlds, serving a certain deterrent effect. I’ve already prepared some in your rooms. Now take them, and you won’t have to be afraid on your way back to the inn later.”
Hearing this, Zhou Qian’s gaze shifted from Tartar back to the people in the four circles on the square.
If at first he hadn’t noticed anything, now he was increasingly feeling a sense of foreboding.
When he first arrived, everyone was sitting, including men, women, the elderly, and the young, and nothing seemed amiss at a glance. But since the start of the rock-paper-scissors, for the game to proceed smoothly, these people had started to stand up and move around.
From this, Zhou Qian realized one thing—their speed of movement was very fast.
Even the seemingly frail young boys and girls, or the elderly with white hair, moved quickly through the crowds to watch others’ matches. Taking advantage of this time, Zhou Qian discovered that not only were their movements exceptionally swift, but they were also very agile.
Zhou Qian took special note of an old man, so old his back was hunched, who, to get a better view of a neighboring circle’s final match, did a somersault, jumping over three to five people. His movements weren’t clumsy at all; like a gust of wind, he had moved a distance in an instant.
The same was true for the three NPCs currently competing in rock-paper-scissors with He Xiaowei.
When Zhou Qian looked over, coinciding with the defeat of the man and woman, leaving He Xiaowei and a muscular man for the final. The man and woman each returned to the eastern and western sides of the crowd, with the man disappearing in a blink, running back at great speed. As for the woman, she jumped and immediately returned to the west side.
Before noticing this anomaly, just like the unresolved debate between He Xiaowei and the two girls, no one knew whether it was better to lose or win the handkerchief game. Zhou Qian also didn’t know.
But after observing these traits of the NPCs participating in the game, Zhou Qian could undoubtedly make an inference—these people want to win the game.
Therefore, it was highly possible that the “vigil” the losers of the game would face was extremely perilous.
In the center of the nearby square, the final showdown between He Xiaowei and the muscular man was about to unfold.
At this moment, the chaotic crowd returned to their original positions, forming four circles again.
Everyone looked towards the final round with curiosity, excitement, and nervousness, yet their gazes also carried a hint of peculiarity and eeriness.
As the final round was about to start, Zhou Qian didn’t immediately return to his seat.
The reason was that he had noticed something unusual—through the brief movement when those people stood up, Zhou Qian discovered that their clothing had distinctive features.
On the east side, the hem of the men’s shirts and the corner of the women’s skirts were all adorned with a sun.
On the west side, the same parts of the clothing bore stars. The south side had moons, and the north side had clouds.
The groups associated with the sun, stars, and moon each consisted of sixteen people, enough to form a complete circle for the handkerchief game. But the cloud group only had eight people, and it was only with the addition of eight players, or rather, “refugees” from the Land of Silence, that they could make up a circle of sixteen.
Seizing the last moments, Zhou Qian asked Tartar, “Are people from different circles from different families?”
“Yes. The Day Family, Moon Family, Star Family, Cloud Family. These are the four major families in the village,” Tartar responded with a smile, looking at Zhou Qian. “Everyone from each family wishes to win the game to bring glory to their family.”
After saying this, Tartar continued to ladle meat soup, saying nothing more. At this time, Zhou Qian heard the village chief declare, “Alright, let’s congratulate Awei for winning!”
Awei referred to the muscular man.
In the final round, He Xiaowei threw scissors, and the muscular man threw rock.
Moments later, under the village chief’s guidance, everyone returned to their places and sat down. The muscular man named Awei received a snow-white handkerchief from the village chief and then began to walk slowly around the crowd, starting with someone on the east side.
He was from the southern circle, so this time he was circling the southern circle.
“Now, the person throwing the handkerchief is a burly man. Who will he give the handkerchief to? Oh, the anticipation…”
The NPCs began clapping and singing a song. During this time, Awei slowly moved from the south to the north. The northern circle was where the eight members of the Cloud family and the eight players were located.
He Xiaowei, noticing the man’s actions, felt his heart beat like a drum, whispering to Zhou Qian beside him, “Qian’er, I feel like he’s coming for me!”
“Yes, I think so too. Under normal circumstances, you won’t be able to outrun him. These NPCs move strangely fast,” Zhou Qian said.
He Xiaowei: “Fuck, what do I do then? Can I just give up?”
“Losing this time doesn’t matter. The game has just begun, and there’s still a chance to change the score. Losing just means having to do the vigil, which might be very dangerous, but it doesn’t necessarily mean death,” Zhou Qian said. “What you really need to be wary of now are the bans.”
“Yeah. If this muscular man, Awei, throws the handkerchief to me, I’m bound to lose under normal circumstances. Then I have to be the next one to throw the handkerchief. Damn it… How do I know how to run when it’s my turn to throw?”
Sweat dripped down He Xiaowei’s forehead as the muscular man approached closer. He couldn’t help but ask, “What happens if we break the bans?”
“The specific consequences are unknown for now but given that we received this warning before entering the instance, it must be important,” Zhou Qian said.
“We are refugees here. Perhaps these are some restrictions imposed on us by the villagers to prevent us from causing trouble. This instance seems to have a lot to do with magic and mythical legends. Curses, prohibitions—these are common elements in such myths, so we must not take them lightly.”
“I think, after getting through the current three bans, we may encounter other bans later.”
Hearing Zhou Qian say this, He Xiaowei became anxious. “What should we do about this ban?”
Zhou Qian turned back, his gaze sweeping over the village chief in the center of the square and then Tartar, who was standing on the outskirts among the spectators.
By now, she had filled all the iron bowls with meat and soup and was watching the game with a smile.
Zhou Qian retracted his gaze and adjusted his wide sleeves, revealing a glimpse of the Rib of God to He Xiaowei. “You’re using a weapon?”
Zhou Qian nodded. “Yes. I just asked Shan Ge to help with something. He’s in spirit form now, invisible to others, but he can use the life force I shared with him to manifest physically when needed and interact with objects in the real world.”
Their voices were very low, and amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowded square, it was hard for others to overhear their conversation. However, Yun Xiangrong was particularly sensitive to the words “Shan Ge” and immediately frowned at Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian met her gaze with a raised eyebrow but didn’t say much more.
At that moment, he could see Awei approaching the northern circle, and his speed visibly increased. About 10 seconds later, he started moving at an extremely fast pace around the 16 people in the north, leaving almost just an afterimage behind. By the time most people realized what was happening, the afterimage was almost gone.
Just then, an elderly woman sitting opposite He Xiaowei shouted at him with frustration. “It’s you! Hurry up and chase! By joining our group, you represent our group’s honor! Awei is afraid of the color red. Find something red to scare him with! When he sees it, his speed will slow down!”
He Xiaowei hesitated but then immediately chased according to the game rules.
Meanwhile, all the people in the northern circle from the Cloud family began to frantically wave a piece of red cloth, hoping to scare Awei into slowing down as soon as he glanced their way, allowing He Xiaowei to catch up.
After He Xiaowei left, Bai Zhou was sitting to Zhou Qian’s left, and one seat over to the right were Qi Liuxing and Ke Yuxiao, who were discussing something in low voices. Seeing this, Zhou Qian pulled Bai Zhou over one seat to listen to their conversation.
Qi Liuxing spoke first. “Awei threw the handkerchief behind Xiaowei Ge, and Xiaowei Ge was a bit slow to react. The NPCs here immediately reminded him, and everyone helped him against Awei…”
“I think I understand the true essence of this handkerchief game. When the village chief announced the rules, mentioning the final ranking of the 64 participants, plus the preconceived notion of the handkerchief game making us think we’re each fighting alone, it seemed like that. But it’s not actually the case!”
“I think, later, if it’s Xiaowei Ge’s turn to throw the handkerchief, when he throws it into another circle, the people in that circle will also remind each other… and provide ways to catch up with him, just like the people in the northern circle are doing with the red cloth now!”
“Right, Xiao Qi. I completely agree with you.” Ke Yuxiao nodded in agreement. “Within each circle, people are cooperating with each other. So, the final win or loss is likely determined by the circle as a unit, not by individuals. It’s a team game. This means… there might be danger during the vigil. They all don’t want to do the vigil.”
Zhou Qian suddenly interjected, “Then let me test you two further. Besides these points, what else can you deduce?”
Qi Liuxing was reminded of the tense moment in “Apple Paradise” when Zhou Qian calmly questioned him while facing monsters across the lake.
As if not wanting to disappoint Zhou Qian or show that he hadn’t improved, Qi Liuxing crossed his arms and thought hard before speaking. “That old woman knew Awei’s weakness very well… It’s very likely that they have been holding this competition for many years. Also, um, and…”
“And—?” Zhou Qian’s expression became more serious. “Why are there only 8 people in the northern circle?”
“Could it be…” Qi Liuxing frowned tightly. “Maybe, for example, last year, each circle also had 16 people, and the people from the northern circle lost last year. They were assigned to do the vigil, and then… 8 people died last year, so this year they only have 8 people left.”
Zhou Qian indeed had the same guess.
The people from the four major families, competing individually in the “handkerchief” game, sent participants with special skills in speed, agility, and dexterity, hoping to win the game for their family.
No family wanted to lose because the vigil posed great risks. The Cloud Family only had 8 people with special skills left because the rest died in previous games.
Zhou Qian turned his head and squinted at the chase between He Xiaowei and Awei, saying, “However, we can also see something advantageous for us.”
“What’s that?” Qi Liuxing asked curiously.
Zhou Qian said, “This means that standing watch is a risky task, but it doesn’t necessarily lead to death. Therefore, we shouldn’t be too worried about this handkerchief game.”
“I get it now!” Qi Liuxing said. “Taking the vigil is risky, but it’s not restricted by the bans related to windows and firelight, so… in the handkerchief game, winning or losing, for now, doesn’t really matter.”
“That’s how it is for now. Let’s see how this instance plays out. We still don’t know how to clear it. Let’s see how Xiaowei Ge is doing—”
Turning his head, Zhou Qian saw that the Moon Family from the south had temporarily taken the lead.
The Cloud Family from the north had taken out something red to counter Awei. However, Awei was well-prepared and didn’t look back once while running. His speed was too fast, and despite He Xiaowei’s best efforts, drenched in sweat, he couldn’t keep up.
Therefore, the village chief announced that Awei gained two points, while He Xiaowei lost two points.
The next round of throwing the handkerchief fell to He Xiaowei.
He Xiaowei didn’t dare to move. Looking across the crowd and the pile of bone offerings in the center of the square, he looked towards Zhou Qian, waiting for his help.
With the bans against walking clockwise around Tara and counterclockwise around Brega among so many people, he really didn’t know who was who and naturally didn’t dare to run randomly.
Before Zhou Qian could answer him, he shouted out in an attempt to save himself, “Is there anyone here named Tara or Brega?!”
“Don’t say irrelevant words!” Village Chief Ab rebuked him, his tone slightly harsh. “Moreover, it’s not allowed for strangers to inquire about the ladies’ names so casually!”
With that, the village chief completely cut off He Xiaowei’s direct approach to asking names. Besides, whether or not they agreed, it seemed it wouldn’t have worked anyway—if those two people really existed in the game, he wouldn’t dare to run in any direction!
He Xiaowei instinctively looked towards Zhou Qian again. Zhou Qian nodded at him, and soon after, he received a message from Zhou Qian. “Just walk straight ahead for now. Don’t circle around. Buy some time. About half a minute should do.”
Steadying his nerves, He Xiaowei stepped carefully, ensuring he walked in a straight line. And after half a minute, he was indeed saved.
Suddenly, from the periphery of the square, there came the sound of metal falling to the ground. Looking in the direction of the noise, He Xiaowei saw a bizarre scene and quickly realized what had happened—
Two pure white dogs, chasing an extremely agile, deep blue little dragon, ran from somewhere in the village towards the center of the square.
As they passed the peripheral area, the little dragon swiftly flew over a row of iron pots, not lingering at the contents. But the two dogs that followed were different; they rushed over like hungry wolves, knocking over the pots along with the soup.
Just as the dogs bit into the meat on the ground, before they could enjoy their meal, the little dragon returned. With a flick of its tail, two bones flew hundreds of meters away towards the other end of the square. With another flick of its tail, the dragon disappeared from the spot.
The dogs, furious, barked angrily and chased ahead, either to settle the score with the little dragon or in eager pursuit of the meat bones.
People from all four families, regardless of their participation in the game, suddenly erupted in panic.
“Oh my God! The white dogs have run away!”
“Whose white dogs have escaped…”
“Let’s hurry back and check, shall we?”
At that moment, Zhou Qian smiled, pulled out a megaphone from his bag, and shouted through it, “I know whose dogs these two are. They belong to the Brega and Tara families. You two better go chase your dogs now! Otherwise, you might be in danger tonight.”
Zhou Qian’s words immediately calmed the commotion. After all, most people were thinking—just as long as it wasn’t their own dog that had escaped.
In the gaming circles on the field, indeed, one man and one woman from both the east and west sides stood up, their faces pale and panicked, and chased in the direction of the two white dogs.
Even though the village chief looked displeased, he said, “Getting the white dogs back is more important. The rest of you, continue with the game!”
Brega and Tara had run off! The two bans could now be avoided!
He Xiaowei immediately rejoiced and glanced at Zhou Qian. The setting sun cast a red glow on Zhou Qian’s face.
Noticing He Xiaowei’s gaze, he raised his head and smiled distantly at him.
He Xiaowei gave a thumbs up and shouted, “Qian’er, you’re really so cool!”
Hearing this, Zhou Qian’s smile brightened even more. However, soon he could no longer see He Xiaowei, and vice versa—Bai Zhou’s body subtly moved to stand between them.
Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head before continuing to look at Bai Zhou with a smile, “Zhou Ge, are you jealous?”
Bai Zhou smiled, reached out to tousle his hair, and simply said, “The sun shining on you looks particularly beautiful.”
As he said this, the sunset cast Bai Zhou’s eyes a deep red. Zhou Qian, hearing this and looking into his eyes, felt his heart skip a beat.
……
He Xiaowei casually threw the handkerchief onto someone nearby and was about to run when the little dragon, likely due to Zhou Qian’s previous instruction, suddenly appeared in front of him and quickly carried him back to the original northern circle. With this move, He Xiaowei won a round and quickly squeezed next to Zhou Qian to sit down.
“Oh, Qian’er, really, thank you. What would I do without you—” He Xiaowei couldn’t help but say. “By the way, what’s with the salt? Can you tell me?”
Zhou Qian didn’t answer.
He Xiaowei turned his head and saw him staring blankly at Bai Zhou.
“Um, Qian’er? Salt? Sodium chloride?” He Xiaowei tapped his shoulder.
After a moment, Zhou Qian turned his head to look at him and said in a somewhat unkind tone, “Simple. It’s an optics problem.”
He Xiaowei, clearly not good at reading the room, continued to ask, “Optics? Physics, huh?”
Zhou Qian quickly and coldly explained, “Yes, optics. The glass on the second floor of the inn is blue. Sodium ions burn to produce a yellow flame. Transparent objects only allow light of the same color as themselves to pass through. So, if you add a lot of salt to the fireplace, it will produce yellow light, which cannot pass through the blue glass.”
“’You must not spend the night in a house where the firelight can still be seen from outside after sunset’—this ban is thus easily resolved.”
Chapter 199: Extra — The Disappearance of Xiao Sijin (6)
President Chi discovered a few days later that his younger brother had run off again. Initially thinking he had joined a new travel group, a call revealed that Chi Yingxue had no intentions of returning to Beijing, opting instead to root himself there to learn tea cultivation.
Learn, tea, cultivation?!
Chi Zhuolin’s first reaction was that Chi Yingxue had been controlled by some bizarre organization, or perhaps brainwashed by a pyramid scheme. He immediately used his connections to track Chi Yingxue’s recent whereabouts in detail.
The findings were a “little” different from what he had imagined.
Chi Yingxue was still with that boy, a member of some Owl Travel Group, the “suspected boyfriend” who had spent a month with him after graduation, the one whose sudden disappearance had left his younger brother in a state of panic.
Had he not already briefly looked into the boy’s background and known that the person was of good character and came from a reputable family, he, as an overprotective big brother, would have immediately sought to break them apart.
In fact, he now regretted not having done so—seeing the photos sent by the private detective, President Chi felt conflicted.
The secretly taken photos were mostly set in the tea garden, where his brother, whom he thought knew only how to enjoy life, was seriously observing and learning in work attire, occasionally taking notes in a notebook.
In nearly every photo, there was the boy named Kuang Jinxin, sometimes earnestly explaining something, other times smiling as he watched his brother take notes.
His gaze was pure, filled with a kind of warm emotion.
Aside from earnestly learning about tea cultivation, there were also photos of the two fooling around, laughing, and cuddling. President Chi couldn’t bear to look at those for too long, as they made his heart uneasy, yet not entirely so. It was a complicated feeling, like a father marrying off his daughter, feeling both relieved and reluctant.
Actually, wherever Chi Yingxue chose to live was fine. For his only brother, Chi Zhuolin only wished for his safety and happiness.
Two days later, more detailed background information on Kuang Jinxin was laid on President Chi’s desk.
Since his younger brother was serious, he, as an elder brother, had to thoroughly vet the situation. Even if the other’s family and character were beyond reproach, what about his relatives? Who knows if there might be any troublemakers among his numerous aunts and uncles? Moreover, a good person doesn’t necessarily equate to living a good life. Chi Yingxue was accustomed to spending money lavishly, and in the future, he didn’t want his brother to worry about finances. Thus, understanding Kuang Jinxin’s financial background would help him devise a more appropriate and long-term financial support plan.
Before opening the file, President Chi was deeply worried about his brother’s future.
After opening it, his heart gradually mended.
The file revealed that the Kuang family tea garden was established through the joint efforts of Elder Kuang and the eldest son of the Kuang family. After it developed to a considerable scale, the second son and the third daughter joined the management of the tea garden. Thus, the majority shares were held by Elder Kuang and the eldest son, with the rest divided between the second son and the third daughter.
Kuang Jinxin’s father was the eldest son of the Kuang family.
Following the car accident that led to the untimely death of Kuang Jinxin’s parents, Elder Kuang decided to transfer his shares, along with those of the couple, to Kuang Jinxin.
In such family businesses, the transfer of shares can easily lead to disputes. However, the Kuang family had an exceptionally harmonious family ethos, and there were no objections to Elder Kuang’s decision, allowing the shares to be smoothly transferred.
Kuang Jinxin owned 70% of the more than a thousand mu* of tea garden.
*Chinese unit of measurement. 1,000 mu is about 164.8 acres.
The Kuang family didn’t just grow tea; they also owned a tea factory. Thanks to the high-quality tea varieties and excellent quality, their tea was in high demand every year when the new tea was released.
With such a boyfriend, unless his brother wanted to pluck stars from the sky, there was no chance of bankruptcy due to extravagance.
But…
With a wealthy brother-in-law, President Chi, as the elder brother, started worrying about other things.
For instance, would his unambitious, spendthrift brother be looked down upon?
After several days of contemplation, President Chi made a decision—he would establish a tea sales company, giving Chi Yingxue 100% ownership—to fill the gap in the Kuang family’s sales channels.
Although the Kuang family’s tea was already selling well, selling directly to the market versus through middlemen would undoubtedly make a significant difference in profits.
This way, his brother’s status would be secure, and he would have a steady income, killing two birds with one stone.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, President Chi held his coffee satisfactorily, gazing into the distance as if he could see his brother’s happy life ahead.
In the brilliant summer sunlight, his silhouette shone gloriously.
—End of The Disappearance of Xiao Sijin—
Kinky Thoughts:
This marks the end of the novel. I hope you enjoyed it. I wish there were more extras highlighting all the friends’ daily lives.
If you did enjoy it, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. You can use Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.
For those interested, you can check out the sequel to this novel, Midnight Ten which follows the last 10 levels of the Owl.
Finally, I would like to thank everyone for your comments, encouragement, help with my translations, and ko-fi donations. It in part fuels my motivation to release so frequently and try to finish this novel as soon as possible.
Chapter 198: Extra — The Disappearance of Xiao Sijin (5)
In the tea garden in August, the summer tea has already been harvested. A heavy rain fell last night, and though the modern irrigation system can handle drought and flood, the older generation of tea farmers still prefers to walk through the fields themselves to feel at ease.
Kuang Jinxin spent the morning following his grandfather around the tea garden. They hadn’t finished inspecting it when his grandfather became too tired to continue. Kuang Jinxin reassured him repeatedly that he would continue the inspection in the afternoon without slacking off, finally coaxing him to go back.
Kuang Jinxin spent the entire afternoon in the tea garden, occasionally brushed by the wind, carrying the fragrance of tea everywhere.
By the time he returned to the old house, it was evening, and the setting sun painted the white walls and black tiles with a warm orange-red.
“Xiao Jin Ge—” His cousin, Xiao Shuang, caught up from behind, her round face flushed. “I’ve been calling you for ages. Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Xiao Shuang, the daughter of his aunt, was still in high school and was helping in the tea garden during her summer vacation.
Kuang Jinxin was startled. “You called me?”
Xiao Shuang rolled her eyes at him and said exaggeratedly, “I almost shouted myself hoarse.” After her complaint, she curiously asked, “Jin Ge, what’s wrong with you? Ever since you came back, you’ve been distracted and listless.”
As they spoke, they entered the old house together, finding the courtyard quiet. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
Normally, at this time, everyone would have returned from the tea garden, and the courtyard would be bustling with activity.
Sensing his confusion, Xiao Shuang explained without waiting for him to ask. “This afternoon, another group came for job interviews. They hadn’t finished when I got back.”
The Kuang family’s tea garden had expanded again this year, and they had been hiring since the beginning of the year. Since Kuang Jinxin returned, his grandfather had been teaching him hands-on, guiding him in the technical aspects. The management of the tea garden was still handled by his second uncle and aunt.
Nodding, Kuang Jinxin didn’t ask further, but Xiao Shuang leaned in, her eyes shining with excitement. “Jin Ge, let me tell you, one of the people who came for the interview today is so good-looking, he’s to die for!”
By the end, the girl dramatically clutched her chest as if her heart might leap out the next second.
Kuang Jinxin smiled but didn’t respond. He didn’t believe anyone could astonish him with their looks. All the amazement of his life had been used up in that one glance towards the ship’s mast.
As night fell, the whole family finally gathered together for a meal, filled with laughter and chatter. His grandparents were so happy that their wrinkles deepened. Their gaze was mostly on him, as if trying to make up for the years he was away.
Kuang Jinxin was glad he came back.
He had already lost his parents, and if he had missed the chance to show filial piety to his grandparents, he would have truly regretted it.
After dinner at eight, Kuang Jinxin had just returned to his room when his phone rang with a message from Xu Wang in the group chat.
Wangwang: [Image]
It was a news screenshot with the headline reading, “Li Zijin’s comeback is still at its peak. XXX regrets letting go of its former ace.”
Tea Sage Lu Yu’s Little Fan: Li Zijin made a comeback?
Wangwang: A perfect comeback.
XXX was Li Zijin’s former club. From the headline, it seemed like the original club hadn’t negotiated well, perhaps due to lack of confidence in him or other considerations, resulting in Li Zijin moving to a new club.
But it doesn’t matter which club he plays for. As long as one has the skill, there’s no worry about treatment. Besides, this is what Li Zijin loves most, and Kuang Jinxin is happy for him.
Wangwang: Xiao Kuang, how have you been lately?
The topic suddenly shifted to himself, making Kuang Jinxin a bit nervous, quickly replying: I’m good.
Half a month ago, when he left without a word, bought a new phone, and got a new SIM card, the first thing he did was contact his friends. None of them complained, only telling him to take over the family business well, and they would come to drink the best spring tea when the time came.
Kuang Jinxin didn’t know what to say, only feeling fortunate to have such friends, feeling very lucky and satisfied.
Wangwang: What are you doing now?
Tea Sage Lu Yu’s Little Fan: Just finished dinner.
Wangwang: At home?
Tea Sage Lu Yu’s Little Fan: Yeah.
After replying, he realized how odd the question was and added: Is there something? You can call or video chat now.
On the other end, thousands of miles away, Xu Wang didn’t respond to Xiao Sijin but sent a voice message to another WeChat account: “Xiao Xue, Captain can only help you this much.”
Sitting on the couch, Wu Sheng pulled him into an embrace and silently sighed, lamenting his love’s worrisome fate.
Kuang Jinxin didn’t get a reply from Xu Wang but received another private message.
Especially Good-looking Chi Yingxue: Come out.
Kuang Jinxin was confused.
Tea Sage Lu Yu’s Little Fan: ?
Especially Good-looking Chi Yingxue: [Image]
A stunning side profile shot, so beautiful it was breathtaking, and behind the side profile was the gate of the Kuang family home.
Kuang Jinxin’s eyes widened in shock, nearly dropping his phone.
Without hesitation or thought, Kuang Jinxin reflexively ran out to the courtyard, opening the gate.
The side profile turned into a full face. Under the moonlight, brows slightly furrowed, he started with a complaint, but because of the unconscious tender tone, it sounded a little aggrieved. “Your family’s tea garden’s interview process is so strange. I said I wanted to learn about tea cultivation, and they suggested I consider a different career path.”
Kuang Jinxin pursed his lips. Logic told him that he needed to have a serious conversation with Chi Yingxue about his reasons for coming, their thoughts on the future, and the differences and disagreements in how they approach life and relationships…
But in the end, his lips couldn’t stay pursed, and his smile rebelliously lifted, as if reaching for the moon.
He laughed.
Chi Yingxue didn’t laugh, stubbornly restating, “I want to learn how to cultivate tea.”
The warm summer night breeze made them slightly tipsy.
Kuang Jinxin heard himself ask, “Then, shall I teach you?”
Teest was unable to comprehend the religious legends, let alone everything before him. A monster pieced together from the corpses of gods—was this just an illusion of the knowledge seal, or was it real?
All he knew was that the thing before him was far from normal. “Nol” watched him; every part of him was watching him—they were watching him.
Teest thought he would see some of the past. Like Kando, or worse than Kando, some crazy and unbearable past experiences. But before the seal, he hesitated even to touch it.
He felt a power, a volcanic, oppressive force, surging behind that pitch-black screen. The power was wildly fierce, far stronger than Star Stealer Sol or Perradat, and far stronger than Nol and himself.
It was indeed enough to open a channel to another world. In other words, it was also enough to destroy the continent of Tahe.
“Forbidden,” “Nol” repeated softly.
He raised a blurry, distorted finger and lightly touched his lips. Subelbot’s power chains rattled dangerously on his wrist.
“…But…cannot…hold on…” “Nol” murmured, his pair of black eyes piercing through Teest, looking towards an even more void direction.
Teest stared directly at the monster before him, struggling to maintain his mental stability.
He must not return empty-handed, like last time. Compared to the last exploration, this “knowledge seal” was much weaker. The reason he could still maintain consciousness was entirely because the knowledge seal consciously condensed its power. Next time… whether they would have another chance, Teest was uncertain.
“Why?” he asked as casually as possible. “Why can’t you hold on? Why did you send me away last time?”
Hearing this question, the pieced-together “Nol” slightly lifted his head, showing a trace of sadness on his pale face. Like a dying old beast, or an abandoned newborn. Behind Nol, the dark screen seemed to have grown much larger.
He looked at Teest evaluatively for a long time, then looked at the chains on his limbs. When he spoke again, his tone had a bit more of a pleading stiffness.
As he said this, the screen behind Nol dangerously flickered. Nol hurriedly sat back in front of the screen, frantically typing on the button-filled device.
It was uncertain if he was a step too late, but the screen exploded in a circle of air bursts, and countless wails emanated from the darkness.
A tsunami-like torrent of screams, a symphony of despair as if on the brink of death. Filled with pain, anger, fear, and, more so, madness, they could instantly pierce the soul of the listener, like an ice pick through the brain.
Nol’s stitched body swelled and then deflated. Flesh from different sources seemed to want to scatter in all directions, yet were bound by some force, only able to twitch helplessly.
His form became increasingly blurry and distorted, but he persisted in typing. The sounds of the chains were completely covered by those screams.
“Sleep…sleep…sleep…”
Nol murmured to that bottomless darkness. “It will end, end end end…”
The screams on the screen diminished slightly, partly turning into layers of murmurs and groans. They seemed meaningless, more like senseless venting. Only one thing was clear. Whatever was screaming was definitely not human.
Teest’s throat was full of the taste of blood, and for a few seconds, he couldn’t think at all, not even sure if he was still alive.
For the first time, he understood the weight of the title “God of Creation”, but it was more powerful, decayed, and ominous than he had imagined.
Think, Mad Monk, think.
Teest extended a trembling hand, decisively breaking his left little finger. The sharp pain finally brought back a trace of consciousness.
Stimulating, he thought. Such terrifying power, always sealed within Nol.
As an outsider, Teest could feel the destructiveness of this power. Once the knowledge seal failed, and Nol fully accepted this horrifying madness, Tahe might be destroyed in a day.
He was unsure what Nol really was, but through the situation of the seal, Teest could guess a bit of the story.
Nol’s dangerous knowledge—clearly, knowledge that shouldn’t belong to this world—was sealed. His Nol was lucid, with relatively intact memory, appearing almost like a normal person.
If they had continued adventuring around like in the beginning, without meddling in the mess of False Gods, perhaps this state could have been maintained.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and Nol, with his excessive sense of responsibility, was determined to save his neighbors and return home together with everyone.
Perradat took the opportunity to intervene, sending her own Candle Knight to assist them in battle, guiding them to oppose Star Stealer Sol. The system also took care of this creator everywhere, ingeniously granting them power, allowing them to survive under the eyes of Star Stealer Sol.
During this process, Nol defeated many opponents, absorbed the authority of the Demon King, and became stronger and stronger. Finally, they stood side by side, facing Star Stealer Sol on the same battlefield.
Up to this point, it still seemed like an adventure story filled with love and hope, Teest thought sarcastically.
Regrettably, a rock might press down a gecko, but it definitely couldn’t suppress a lion. However, during this process of becoming stronger, Nol’s knowledge seal became increasingly unstable and was now on the verge of collapse.
Teest looked at the “Nol” furiously typing in front of a black screen.
According to Nol, the knowledge seal was likely set by himself in the past. To Teest, it was hard to say whether this was “a mad god sealing themselves, trying to rush towards the light” or “the mastermind disguised as justice, deceiving others for assistance along the way”.
“…Haha.”
Teest couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
It seems Star Stealer Sol was more thoughtful than they had imagined, he thought.
That guy really offered a very tempting condition. Letting the current Nol sacrifice these dangerous powers to send all beings from other worlds back home. If Star Stealer Sol completely took over this world, looking at the past hundred years, at least it wouldn’t destroy Tahe.
It had silenced Drake’s friends and family, so what? The outsiders from other worlds would return to their own. Even if they knew something, it wouldn’t affect Tahe anymore.
As long as negotiations continued, Star Stealer Sol wouldn’t be stupid enough to insist on doing these petty actions. Compared to a Nol, who was unknown to be good or evil embracing the power to destroy the world, Star Stealer Sol was undoubtedly a safer choice.
Yes, the last time the seal unhesitatingly expelled him, it was just to protect Nol—
If it were Painter who knew the situation, perhaps that guy who cared about Tahe would switch to supporting Star Stealer Sol, and it wouldn’t be a big deal to support Perradat afterwards.
…Fortunately, it was himself who came.
“I know what you’re worried about. I won’t expose you. And you know, if you want to interfere with the outside world, you don’t have any other choice but me right now,” Teest said to that silhouette. “I guess neither of us believes in oaths, but I still have to say it.”
Clack, clack, clack. The chaotic silhouette kept typing, not looking back.
“No matter what your original intentions were, I will stand by your side.”
Teest stepped forward. “Sounds stupid, right? No matter how you look at it, your power doesn’t seem like a good thing… Coincidentally, I’m not much of a good thing either. I think you know.”
He opened his arms and embraced that strange and twisted figure from behind.
The touch was odd, like embracing hot coals naked, with intense pain sweeping through the contact point immediately. Teest could feel his nerves screaming, but he maintained the embrace.
“If you want to live, then live,” Teest said.
Nol’s typing hands paused.
A few seconds later, he leaned tiredly against the chair back, then naturally lifted his head, looking up at Teest’s face. Teest looked down at him, his silver-white long hair smoothly falling down, his face wearing the usual smile.
Nol’s unstable eyes turned slightly red.
He freed one hand and cautiously touched Teest’s long hair with his fingertips.
“Silver-white, good child…” he murmured. “Live well…”
“Tell me, honey.”
Teest looked at the dilapidated body, his tone growing gentler. “I need to know the situation to better help you.”
“Take me to see… Perradat’s core… She can, guess…” Nol said. “Don’t let me… give up…”
He stretched out a hand, looking to touch Teest’s cheek, but then timidly retracted it.
Instead, the hand moved towards his own chest, near the shattered “white scale”. Nol harshly dug out a bit of debris, which turned into a uniform silver light, winding around his fingertips.
He brought it close to Teest’s hair, and the silver light seemed to come to life, winding up on its own.
“Thank you…” he said.
The moment the silver light attached, Teest’s head suddenly felt much clearer. The previously wailed-stirred brain pulp returned to normal, and thinking became smoother.
In his vision, the terrifying monster also became clearer. Teest’s gaze moved from the twitching god remains to Nol’s deformed hands and face, finally stopping on his overly pale forehead.
Enduring the corrosive pain, he gently kissed Nol’s forehead.
“I may not be your best choice,” Teest said. “But I will become your favorite choice.”
After this kiss, “Nol” didn’t move for a long time. Finally, he opened his lips, letting out a long sigh.
It was as if he had made some decision. He grabbed Teest’s sleeve, leading his hand towards that screen.
“Just once,” he said. “I give you permission to touch it…”
Teest didn’t resist.
The next second, he found himself waking up in the real world, the taste of blood all around his mouth and nose. Nol lay silently on the stone floor, Painter was expressionless, and the dragon Subelbot looked at him with a hint of wariness.
At this moment, Teest had no intention to analyze the situation.
That touch of information almost crushed his brain alive. It was a fragment, a part of Nol’s past. It lasted only a second, without any useful content.
But it was enough to explain a lot.
That second, it was like millions of people whispering in his mind.
Teest’s thoughts fractured into pieces, pondering countless unrelated things at once. Chaotic memories floated in his mind, in which the world was bizarre and unique. His “self” was like a drop of rain falling into a lake, nearly dissipating.
What he saw was chaos, churning his thoughts into a mess. Luckily, it was short, preventing him from absorbing too much. If it had lasted longer, Teest wasn’t sure if he would have gone mad.
Even now, his insides felt sour, almost making him want to kneel and vomit. He believed in Nol’s resilience, but Teest was certain, if Nol directly accepted this “knowledge”, he would have gone mad on the spot.
“I can sense the presence of my God,” Subelbot said thunderously. “Why do you carry the scent of my God?”
It might be because I impulsively kissed the physical form of your God. And our God is about to explode, unable to control the power well.
Teest glanced at Painter not far away, trying to gather his thoughts.
“I wanted to touch the seal of God, to decipher the knowledge left to us,” he said, standing unsteadily. “Unfortunately, I failed. Now is not the time—I paid the price for my rashness.”
Painter’s eyebrows twitched, his gaze becoming meaningful.
“Thank you for your assistance. Now, we are even,” Teest said, wiping the blood from his face and continuing with a smile.
……
Nol had a very strange dream.
One weekend, he was working from home as usual. His boyfriend rang the doorbell, urging him to open the door. Looking through the peephole, Nol saw a swath of silver-white.
Nol relaxed, took off his robe for receiving guests, and sat back in his work chair. The house was quiet. His boyfriend was standing in the center of the living room, watching him intently.
“I have work to do,” Nol said, furiously patching the system. “By the way, isn’t this the first time you’ve come without an invitation? I really don’t have time for you this weekend…”
“I’ve been up for three nights in a row. I can barely hold on, and after finishing, I still need to sleep. Why don’t you go back first? I’ll definitely make time next weekend.”
Strange, he has a boyfriend?
He likes men? When did he meet his boyfriend? Did he come out to his parents?
“Why are you sending me away?” His boyfriend tilted his head, his silver-white hair sliding down his shoulders.
“I must continue to work.” Nol stared at the dark screen. He didn’t have enough fingers, so he added a few more. “I must reduce errors. I can’t be disturbed. I don’t want to die…”
Hm? His workload is indeed explosive, but when did the company rules become so strict?
“I’m here with you,” his boyfriend said. “If there’s anything I can help with…”
No, he had to complete it alone, not letting others discover the severity of the problem. If a loophole were exposed or the program crashed, everything would end.
This was a secret battle. He knew how dangerous the situation was. Once exposed, others would also know how dangerous “he” is.
Must modify, suppress, dominate, repeatedly correcting the errors that arise and keeping everything running normally. His brain screamed inside his skull as the keyboard keys turned into sharp teeth.
Can’t trust anyone, Nol thought. Anyone could be an illusion created by the flaw.
But that was the person he loved, he thought vaguely, remembering that person, his favorite Silver-white.
Suddenly, Nol was embraced.
His lover hugged him from behind, saying something. Nol couldn’t hear clearly, but he liked the soft tone.
“Alright,” Nol said dizzily. “Help me contact Miss Outsourcing. Her phone number is in the soil of the flowerpot. Oh, I’ll give you the key to the flowerpot. Otherwise, it might bite you.”
A very dangerous decision, extremely dangerous. A row of “veto” popped up in the work group.
“Thanks.” Nol ignored his active colleagues.
He liked this person. He remembered this.
A kiss fell on his forehead. It was warm. The only tangible feeling in this space. He liked it very much.
“Also.” Suddenly, Nol remembered something.
He pointed to the screen, showing a smile. “Want to watch a movie together?”
“It’s short. Just one second long. It’s called ‘The End of the World’. I’ve been watching it for years. It’s pretty good.”
You’re not allowed to walk around Tara counterclockwise, nor are you allowed to encircle Brega clockwise.
Anyone would find these two prohibitions bizarre at first glance. However, when the bans were linked with the “Drop the Handkerchief” game, the situation became quite unusual.
The so-called “Drop the Handkerchief” game involves a group of people sitting together. One person runs around them from behind, chooses someone, and secretly drops the handkerchief behind that person.
The person who finds the handkerchief behind them has to pick it up and chase the one who dropped it.
If the dropper makes it back to their seat without being caught, after a full circle, they pass the level; otherwise, if caught, they lose and must perform a show in front of everyone.
Correspondingly, if the person who was supposed to catch the handkerchief either finds it too late or fails to catch the dropper, they lose and become the next one to drop the handkerchief.
Thus, since the game involves running around a group of people, it necessitates the restriction of either running clockwise or counterclockwise. Among the NPCs, could there be someone named Tara or Brega?
If both individuals exist and running around is mandatory, how should one avoid breaking the bans?
Having reached this stage in the game, all players on the scene immediately understood the peril upon hearing the words “Drop the Handkerchief” and anxiously awaited the innkeeper’s answer—what would her name be? Tara or Brega?
“My name is Tartar,” the innkeeper said with a smile, then stood up and led everyone towards the square. On the way, He Xiaowei hurried forward and asked many questions, such as whether she knew Tara or who Brega was. However, Tartar didn’t respond to any questions, simply greeting passersby with a smile.
It seemed she was well-liked and popular here.
When leaving the inn, Zhou Qian specifically looked at the sculpture formed by three human heads and noticed no change; one of the heads still faced west, towards where the sun set, and the village’s heart lay.
Tartar led everyone from the Tartar Inn at the village entrance westward, deeper into the village. Along the way, Zhou Qian thought of something and took a special look back.
First, Zhou Qian looked at the sculpture of the three heads. When he first arrived at this scenario, he remembered the head facing west glowed red in the sunset, including its eyes, which shimmered in the red of the setting sun.
But now, from this angle, the eyes of the head faintly gleamed blue, deep, and bottomless, as if hiding a dark world.
Zhou Qian’s second glance was towards the glass on the inn’s second floor. When he checked inside the room before, he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about the glass. However, looking from this angle at this time, he noticed the glass was actually blue.
The blue, transparent glass shone with a purple light in the sunset, sparkling like a crystal and somewhat eerie.
Having understood something, Zhou Qian said nothing for the moment and continued forward with everyone else.
Shortly after, they reached the central square deep in the village.
Many people were already sitting on the ground, grouped in circles of sixteen, forming three complete circles; an additional eight people formed a half-circle, apparently waiting for players. With the players making up exactly eight people, they sat down to form the fourth circle.
In the center of the square was a large pile of animal bones mixed with straw and other materials, next to which lay some meat, grain, and other items, seemingly for sacrificial purposes.
The four circles formed by the villagers and players were positioned in the north, south, east, and west directions around the pile.
Upon the players’ arrival, a leader-looking figure was pouring oil over the straw and bones.
Tartar, the innkeeper, took the lead to greet him. “Village chief, I’ve brought the people from the Land of Silence over. They’ll join the game.”
“Good, thank you.” The village chief nodded to the innkeeper, then greeted everyone. “Hello, I’m Ab. Please, take your seats! The game will start soon!”
The village chief, a man in his forties, appeared wise, as if his position was based on wisdom rather than age or force.
Zhou Qian took a closer look at the village chief before sitting down with the others. Bai Zhou, of course, sat next to him.
Once seated, Zhou Qian whispered to him through a private chat tool. “If we were playing this game outside, I’d definitely drop the handkerchief for you to chase me.”
Bai Zhou looked at him and smiled faintly. “Okay.”
“Then you’d have to be quick, or you won’t catch me.”
“Mm. I’ll be fast.”
“How fast?”
“How fast do you want it?”
“Well, not too fast, or it won’t be fun. Gotta keep you running a little longer.”
“Okay.”
“Zhou Ge, your patience is really good. You even entertain such boring questions from me.”
“Not boring.”
“Being with me, you’re never bored, right?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly. Am I a fun person?”
“Mm. So, Zhou Qian, do you think—”
Was Bai Zhou worried that he might find him boring?
Before he could speak, Zhou Qian already answered. “Zhou Ge is interesting too. Next time after you transform into a dragon, let me play with your horn again, and I want to touch your tail.”
Above the square, the noise of people was booming.
The two of them were having a secret conversation unknown to others.
Whether the conversation was nutritious or interesting didn’t matter.
For the two of them, being able to have such a long-awaited reunion in another world and to speak so freely and willfully, was already very precious.
After a few exchanges, the village chief raised his voice to speak—
“Alright, everyone is here. Let me explain this year’s new rules to everyone!”
Standing next to the pile of bones, the village chief explained the specific rules of the game to everyone.
The Drop the Handkerchief game in the story was similar to what everyone normally knew.
However, this time the scope of the game was broader—being played in four circles, totaling 64 people.
The person who throws the handkerchief, and the one it was thrown at, could run around the four large circles to chase each other.
Another difference was that the loser of each game would be deducted 2 points, instead of having to “perform a show” like in the real world, and the winner would gain 2 points.
When the game finally ended, the scores of the 64 people would be ranked from highest to lowest, ultimately dividing them into two groups.
The higher-scoring group, the winners, would have the privilege to go home and sleep.
The other 32 people would have to participate in a night vigil arranged by the village chief.
“The moment the sun sets completely marks the arrival of the ‘nonexistent time’, and we will welcome the official festival. Let’s enjoy the game to the fullest before the sun sets!”
The village chief said, “So, where should we start the game… Let’s decide with rock-paper-scissors!”
Under the village chief’s arrangement, the first was a rock-paper-scissors competition within each of the 16-person circles to select one winner from each. Four circles of 16 people would produce four winners, who would then face off in the final showdown.
Of course, even with 16 people playing rock-paper-scissors simultaneously, the likelihood of rock, paper, and scissors appearing at the same time was high. To save time, the village chief had them split into four groups to achieve a tiered selection effect.
Zhou Qian’s group of 16 was divided into four groups of four. NPCs played against NPCs, and players played against players.
During the rock-paper-scissors, He Xiaowei, Zhou Qian, Yin Jiujiu, and Yun Xiangrong were in one group.
He Xiaowei, not understanding the situation of the two girls, turned his head, saw the NPCs at a distance, and quietly advised them, “Let’s not waste our efforts here. We should all try to win, gain points, and if one of us becomes the winner, we absolutely should not throw the handkerchief at each other.
“What we need to do is work together to defeat the NPCs! If an NPC throws the handkerchief at one of us players, we must remind each other quickly so they don’t catch up. This way, our scores will be the highest!”
Yun Xiangrong glanced at him and said, “Have you considered that if you’re outside on night watch, you naturally don’t have to spend the night inside. Thus, the issue of which room someone might die in tonight would be resolved.”
“Eh?” He Xiaowei was stunned for three seconds before quickly responding, “But that doesn’t mean it’s safe. What does that ‘nonexistent time’ mean? We still don’t know!”
“Regarding the meaning of Samhain, our well-read Zhou Qian said it’s the day when the realms of the living and the dead intersect. There will definitely be ghosts coming at night! Inside, the fireplace can ward off ghosts. What about outside?”
Yin Jiujiu thought for a moment and said, “We still know too little. Let’s see how it goes. But I think Yun Xiangrong has a point. There are 32 people on night watch, including many villagers. The village chief wouldn’t send so many people to their deaths, right?”
He Xiaowei, unsure, looked at Zhou Qian for advice. “Qian’er, it seems they make sense. So, should we aim to win or lose points in this game? I’m counting on you.”
Who would have thought, as he turned his head, he saw Zhou Qian asking Bai Zhou, who was playing rock-paper-scissors in the next group, “So, if I throw scissors, will you throw paper?”
He Xiaowei: “……”
As expected, Bai Zhou really threw paper.
And then he lost.
He Xiaowei: “…………”
After a while, feeling a pair of burning eyes on the back of his head, Zhou Qian turned around to see He Xiaowei.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” Zhou Qian asked.
He replied, “There’s a saying that goes, ‘A hero finds it hard to overcome the beauty’s challenge*.’ Now, I want to dedicate this saying to that God Level boss. I never imagined, Qian’er, that you would be the ‘beauty’ in this saying.”
*Idiom refers to how heroes often lose their fighting spirit or reputation because of their obsession with women.
Zhou Qian: “…………”
Three minutes later, the rock-paper-scissors competition among their circle of 16 people quickly ended.
The winner turned out to be He Xiaowei.
The other three circles also finished their games around the same time, selecting three winners, all NPCs.
Under the village chief’s supervision, He Xiaowei was about to step forward for the final rock-paper-scissors contest with them.
Before going up, he asked Zhou Qian uneasily, “Qian’er, something doesn’t feel right. If you wanted to win, I doubt we could beat you in rock-paper-scissors. I don’t understand the tricks and twists of gambling, nor how you guys do it. But rock-paper-scissors is a form of gambling, right? Who are you? You’re the king of gambling! How could you lose?”
“You flatter me too much. It’s not like that,” Zhou Qian said.
“You lost, and you made your partner lose too. Is that really okay?” He Xiaowei asked. “Wait a minute, would it be better to lose? If I win and have to throw the handkerchief, who should I throw it to first?”
Zhou Qian patted his shoulder. “Relax. Just play the game casually. As for tonight… for now, just make sure you have enough salt.”
“…Salt?” He Xiaowei was surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Yes. Salt. Sodium chloride,” Zhou Qian whispered to him. “If you get the chance, go steal some more from the kitchen. It’ll come in handy.”
Chapter 197: Extra — The Disappearance of Xiao Sijin (4)
“Is that all?” The more he heard, the more Xu Wang wanted to punch Chi Yingxue, having little confidence in his teammate. “Are you sure that’s everything?”
Chi Yingxue hesitated. Although he still didn’t think he did anything wrong, the increasingly dark expression on the other’s face forced him to be cautious.
Finally, the last piece, forgotten in a corner, reflected the light.
“Before going to sleep, he asked me if I knew where he was from.”
Xu Wang asked, “What did you answer?”
Chi Yingxue said, “I only remembered that his family grows tea, so I guessed it must be the South, maybe Zhejiang.”
Xu Wang: “You were that sure?”
Chi Yingxue: “Just a random guess.”
Xu Wang: “And?”
Chi Yingxue: “I was wrong.”
Xu Wang: “……”
Chi Yingxue: “……”
Xu Wang: “Then what?”
Chi Yingxue: “We just went to sleep.”
“Speaking of which,” Chi Yingxue seemed to come back to his senses, curiously tilting his head, “where is Xiao Si Jin actually from?”
“Why didn’t you ask him that yesterday!” Xu Wang felt like throwing cold water on him to wake him up.
Wu Sheng silently looked out the window, feeling relieved that there were people even lower than him on the “romantic IQ” food chain.
Xu Wang firmly believed that, with Kuang Jinxin’s character, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye and worrying his friends. Even if he wanted to end things with Chi Yingxue, he would have left an explanation rather than letting Chi Yingxue guess blindly.
Taking care of others’ feelings was a gentleness unique to Xiao Kuang.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.” Xu Wang made a decisive decision.
As soon as Chi Yingxue realized Xiao Kuang was missing, he called his brother and launched a sea, land, and air search before rushing over to consult with them. Xu Wang knew without asking that he must not have stayed in the hotel room for even a minute longer than necessary. Even if Xiao Kuang did leave something behind, that guy probably wouldn’t have noticed.
Half an hour later, Xu Wang’s deduction was confirmed.
In the tidied hotel suite, a light-colored envelope with the hotel’s logo lay quietly on the dark bedside table, as conspicuous as a sun hanging in the night sky.
Xu Wang walked over, grabbed the corner of the envelope, and shook it at Chi Yingxue, despairing, “How could you not notice this?!”
When he woke up, the room hadn’t been cleaned by the staff yet. It was a mess, and he was frantic, wishing he could rush out to search immediately—who would remember to check the tables and chairs?
But now, Chi Yingxue couldn’t care about defending himself and snatched the envelope.
The envelope wasn’t sealed, just symbolically folded.
Inside was a single piece of letter paper, neatly unfolded, with Kuang Jinxin’s neat and handsome handwriting—
Xiao Xue:
I’ve decided to go home.
Ever since graduation, my family has been urging me to return. During my university years, the tea garden was managed by my second uncle and aunt. It’s time for me to take on my own responsibilities.
Yesterday, when I asked you what you wanted to do in the future, I was hoping you would ask me the same question. If you had, I would have told you about my family’s situation and my plans for the future, including parts you might not agree with. Then we could have argued, maybe I would convince you, maybe you would convince me, or maybe we could compromise and make new plans together.
But you didn’t ask.
You said keeping things as they are is good enough.
This is the first time I’ve said goodbye to a friend in this way, because there are some things I don’t know how to say face-to-face.
Xiao Xue, I know you are happy now, and I hope you can continue to be happy. But living leisurely, as comfortable as it is, can make life feel empty over time. Find something you care about. It doesn’t have to be a struggle, just a hobby—cars, games, plants, animals, insects, and fish. When you have something you like, life has flavor.
I had a great time this month. Thank you.
After reading the letter, Chi Yingxue was even more perplexed than before.
Xu Wang and Wu Sheng, one on each side, also took in the contents of the letter.
“What do you think now?” Xu Wang asked.
Chi Yingxue stared blankly at the letter. “I don’t understand.”
Xu Wang, suppressing the complex feelings swirling inside, asked patiently, “Don’t understand why he went home? Or don’t understand why he left suddenly without a word?”
Chi Yingxue didn’t speak, as if unsure which to choose, or perhaps stubbornly not wanting to say.
Xu Wang’s patience ran out, cutting to the chase. “Going home, because there’s a tea garden that needs care—this is something Xiao Kuang has probably considered since graduation. He left suddenly without saying a word because he finally realized that these were his own matters. He just needed to decide and act on them.”
“He told me to find something I care about.” Chi Yingxue finally spoke, his focus completely unrelated to what Xu Wang said. “But I’ve already found it.” His beautiful eyes turned to Xu Wang, clear and determined. “It’s Xiao Sijin.”
“You care about him?” Xu Wang chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Xiao Xue, you only care about yourself…”
“You want Xiao Kuang by your side because you enjoy being with him; you share your past with him and open up everything to him because such release makes you feel relaxed. Your relationship always revolves around your ‘comfort level’. Do you know what Xiao Kuang wants? Or to put it another way…”
Xu Wang looked deep into his eyes, asking seriously, word by word. “Have you ever thought about stepping into his heart to have a look?”
Chapter 196: Extra — The Disappearance of Xiao Sijin (3)
The human heart, much like the front camera of a mobile phone, often comes with a filter. These filters are named “I think”, “I feel”, “I hope”, “I believe”. Any neutral and objective matter, seen through these filters, becomes tinted with the desires of that heart, and then firmly remembered by its owner.
The coded love letter made Xu Wang realize this truth for the first time. He believed that Wu Sheng truly felt the codes were obvious, and that he could decipher them instantly upon opening the letter. Yet, this delay lasted ten years.
Wu Sheng’s filter was derived from unfounded confidence and presumptions.
Chi Yingxue’s filter came from willful recklessness and presumptions.
The night before Xiao Sijin disappeared without a word, there was a mountaintop view of the night sky, orange soda, kisses with the taste of orange, and speeding down the mountain. However, it was only after removing Chi Yingxue’s emotional filter that these moments finally revealed their true essence hidden in the night…
“This is the highest point in the city, and also where the night view is best.” Sitting on the car roof, enjoying the mountain breeze, and overlooking the lights of thousands of homes, Chi Yingxue squinted in comfort.
Kuang Jinxin sat beside him, his posture proper and demure, not like someone lazily enjoying the breeze, but rather like a student attentive in class.
Chi Yingxue smiled, stretching his arm to pull him into an embrace.
Perhaps it was time for some sweet nothings? But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to speak or move. He just wanted to hold this person until the end of time.
Kuang Jinxin let him, looking down at the mountains below, eerily quiet.
After holding him for a while, Chi Yingxue finally sensed something off and asked curiously, “What are you thinking?”
“I’ve been staying in the hotel for a month now,” Kuang Jinxin slowly said, a topic seemingly unrelated to the mountain breeze or the night view.
Chi Yingxue didn’t think much of it, carelessly responding, “Just stay at ease. My brother will take care of the bill.”
Kuang Jinxin uttered a barely audible “oh”, then fell silent again.
Though Chi Yingxue couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong, he intuitively felt that Xiao Sijin wasn’t happy. Thinking it over, he decisively got out of the car, grabbed a can of soda from the mini fridge in the trunk, climbed back onto the roof, and pressed the cold can against the other’s face unexpectedly.
The chill made Kuang Jinxin shiver.
Chi Yingxue’s lips curled up, like a child successful in their prank.
Kuang Jinxin looked at him, annoyed yet amused, then lowered his head and opened the soda can with a pop, only to see it was orange-flavored again. His gaze paused for a moment, but quickly returned to normal as he took a big gulp and naturally passed it to Chi Yingxue.
After living together for a month, they had developed many unspoken understandings, sharing a can of orange soda being one of them.
But this time, Chi Yingxue didn’t take it, instead staring at him for two seconds before suddenly pouncing, pinning him down.
Caught off guard, the soda can slipped from Kuang Jinxin’s hand, rolling off the car roof to the ground. The soda spilled out its sweet, fizzy bubbles, wetting the grass.
Chi Yingxue, breathing heavily, kissed him.
Kuang Jinxin closed his eyes, feeling nervous yet moved.
Chi Yingxue’s kisses were no longer tentative but filled with a dominating desire and invasion, as fervent as if wanting to devour the other whole.
Kuang Jinxin couldn’t help but tremble uncontrollably, as if caught in a storm, but he didn’t want to escape, instead reaching out his arms to embrace the source of the tempest.
The kiss ended, but Chi Yingxue wanted more.
He still pressed down on Kuang Jinxin, looking closely at him, wanting him to belong completely to himself, not just physically, but even wanting to lock the other’s soul in a box of his own.
Kuang Jinxin, seeing those suddenly darkened eyes, felt an inexplicable panic.
Chi Yingxue, oblivious, kissed again, this time not as fiercely but gently, licking Kuang Jinxin’s lips, murmuring affectionately, “Xiao Sijin, sweet…”
He kissed from the lips to the ears, then from the ears to the neck, tenderly and intricately.
Kuang Jinxin raised his hand, gently touching his hair. His eyes stared at the moonlight, with a hint of helplessness and loneliness. “I’m not orange soda.”
On the way down the mountain, Kuang Jinxin suddenly asked, “Xiao Xue, have you thought about what you want to do in the future?”
“The future?” At that moment, Chi Yingxue was driving, only half listening to the question, but it was enough, as he felt there was nothing worth pondering. “Just to keep things as they are would be good.”
An expected answer.
Kuang Jinxin fell silent for a moment, then said, “Actually, there are quite a few things I still want to do…”
Chi Yingxue raised an eyebrow, his curiosity finally piqued. He was just about to inquire further when suddenly a silver Ferrari swerved towards them!
He urgently turned the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding a collision, as the Ferrari sped past, triumphantly accelerating again.
On such a narrow mountain road, the Ferrari’s actions were clearly deliberate. Chi Yingxue’s eyes darkened. “Xiao Sijin, fasten your seatbelt.”
Kuang Jinxin opened his mouth but, in the end, said nothing more.
The mountain road became the scene of a high-speed chase. Kuang Jinxin watched the night pass by the window, feeling an unprecedented sense of confusion.
Kinky Translations 