The gentle smile on Cen Yao's face froze slightly.
Nineteen.
A year older than her.
She let out a couple of tactical coughs.
“Ahem.”
“Hello, Lingxi. My name is Cen Yao.”
She forcibly erased the words “little sister” from her mind and pointed to Pei Tinglan, who was sitting on the vine wheelchair not far away.
“This is Pei Tinglan.”
Zhu Lingxi looked in the direction she pointed.
Sitting on the vine wheelchair, Pei Tinglan looked up at Cen Yao.
He didn't say a word.
Or rather, he couldn't be bothered to make a sound.
Zhu Lingxi, however, nodded very seriously.
“Young Master Pei.”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
Cen Yao: “...”
When this form of address came out, Cen Yao almost couldn't keep a straight face.
Where did this ancient person come from?
She had thought the girl's outfit was vintage enough, but she hadn't expected her speech and behavior to be so archaic too.
Even Pei Tinglan's gloomy, handsome face showed a moment of subtle blankness.
Zhu Lingxi didn't feel anything was amiss.
The Nuo mask hanging from her waist swayed gently, and the scent of temple incense on her was slightly dispersed by the night wind.
She looked at Cen Yao again and added earnestly, “Thank you for saving me, Miss Cen.”
Cen Yao: “...Y-You're welcome.”
“Miss Cen.” What an unusual way to be addressed. It was the first time in Cen Yao's life that anyone had called her that.
But honestly, it was quite amusing, giving her the feeling of having traveled back to ancient times.
However, now was not the time to dwell on forms of address.
Faint noises were already starting to drift from the distance.
Although she had dealt with that wave of cat-headed employees, this Cat Cafe obviously couldn't have just those few monsters.
They needed to find a place to hide first, organize their clues, and let Pei Tinglan tend to his wounds.
Cen Yao looked up and scanned her surroundings.
Deeper in the forest, she spotted an abandoned tool shed.
Its wooden door was half-collapsed, there was a hole in the roof, and rotting sacks and rusty farm tools were piled outside.
It looked a bit run-down, but at least it could block their line of sight.
Cen Yao said, “Let's go over there first.”
Zhu Lingxi nodded. “Okay.”
Pei Tinglan remained silent.
Cen Yao walked up behind him. Just as she was about to push the wheelchair, she heard Pei Tinglan speak coldly.
“You won't send me flying again this time, will you?”
Cen Yao: “...”
She took a deep breath.
“I won't.”
Pei Tinglan said in a flat tone, “What a shame. I've missed out on an encore performance.”
With an expressionless face, Cen Yao cast a Shock-Absorption Spell on the vine wheelchair.
Then she cast a Silence Spell on the wheels.
Finally, she added a Stabilizing Spell.
There. Satisfied?
Noble enough for you?
The former idol's precious rear end.
The three of them quickly entered the abandoned tool shed.
Cen Yao first cast a Shielding Spell at the entrance, then added a Silence Spell and a Scent-Obscuring Spell.
Only after doing all this did she let out a small sigh of relief.
The inside of the tool shed was very dark.
The air was filled with the unpleasant smell of rotting wood, damp earth, coffee grounds, and a sour, musty odor from prolonged dampness.
Cen Yao had just taken two steps inside when a very soft voice came from behind her.
“Miss Cen.”
Cen Yao turned around.
Zhu Lingxi was standing by the door, making no move to go further inside.
She kept her head lowered, her gaze fixed on several worn-out sacks in the corner of the tool shed.
The sacks were already rotten, with dark green mold growing along the edges. Inside lay scattered, shriveled black coffee husks, along with some fine bits of fur matted together by dirt and moisture.
There was very little of it.
If one didn't look closely, it would easily be mistaken for dust and decaying grass.
Zhu Lingxi stared at them for a moment before slowly squatting down.
She took the Nuo mask from her waist, but instead of putting it on, she merely traced the edge of the mask gently with her fingertip.
“There used to be a lot of pain here.”
Cen Yao froze for a moment.
It would be stranger if there wasn't any pain in a dungeon.
She reached out and pinched a small clump of dark brown debris from beside the rotting sacks.
It looked like coffee grounds, but also like dirt.
She smelled it, then put it back.
“Coffee cherries, blood, fur, and a bit of bone meal.”
She spoke in a very calm tone, without any attempt to sound mysterious.
But precisely because she was so calm, it sent a shiver down one's spine.
Cen Yao frowned.
She actually hadn't felt anything.
The tool shed was cold and gloomy, but it was a very ordinary chill, the kind that naturally accumulated in abandoned buildings deprived of light and ventilation over the years.
There was no obvious ghostly energy.
Nor did she feel that distinct sensation she had when she sensed the Queen's presence in the previous dungeon.
Yet Zhu Lingxi seemed to be hearing something.
She squatted there, tilting her head to listen for a moment, her eyelashes drooping slightly.
“They hurt for a very long time.”
Cen Yao's heart sank slightly.
Sitting in his vine wheelchair, Pei Tinglan, who had been expressionless, also looked up upon hearing this.
Zhu Lingxi took a thin stick of incense from her sleeve.
The incense wasn't lit, but it carried the charred scent of burned wood, layered with a hint of warm sandalwood.
She laid the incense horizontally beside the pile of rotting sacks and gently placed the Nuo mask in front of her knees.
She sang two lines in a low voice.
The melody was very strange. It didn't sound like a song, but rather like some ancient chant passed down from a distant land to ward off evil spirits.
“When humans face disasters, there is Nuo.”
“When beasts suffer, they too should have a path home.”
Cen Yao couldn't fully grasp the meaning of the chant.
But she saw Zhu Lingxi trace her fingertip lightly across the ground, as if drawing a small circle to protect the scattered coffee grounds, fur, and bone meal from being disturbed.
Only after completing this did Zhu Lingxi hang the Nuo mask back on her waist.
She looked up at Cen Yao, her large eyes filled with seriousness. “They cannot come out right now.”
Cen Yao understood. “Suppressed by the dungeon rules?”
Zhu Lingxi nodded.
“Their resentment is deep, but their souls are faint.”
“It is already difficult for animals to retain a complete soul after death. What's more, too many of them died, and they suffered too much. They are pressed deep into the soil by the rules here, like incense ash soaked in water—unable to burn for the time being.”
The slight confusion in Cen Yao's mind slowly dissipated.
The reason she hadn't sensed anything earlier wasn't because this place was clean.
It was because this place was too filthy, too heavy, and buried too deep.
The Queen in “The Little Princess's Full Moon Feast” had been human when she was alive, so her soul was naturally more stable. Even then, Cen Yao had only sensed her on the second day of the dungeon with the help of the Medium.
But this place was different.
It was obvious that the victims here were the civet cats.
No matter how deep their resentment was, it was difficult for them to manifest as complete entities like human ghosts.
Furthermore, it was still only the first day of the dungeon.
Many things were being pinned firmly beneath the ground by the rules.
Cen Yao couldn't see them.
But Zhu Lingxi could feel them.
It wasn't because she was more perceptive than Cen Yao's Medium talent, but because the Nuo she inherited was meant to dance when humans suffered from disasters, illness, pain, and evil spirits.
To her, pain itself was far clearer than any ghostly shadow.
The way Cen Yao looked at Zhu Lingxi couldn't help but change.
This girl wasn't just muttering taboos out of superstition.
She was truly listening.
Listening to the pain that was too faint, too fragmented, and could not even be called ghosts yet.
Only after doing all this did Zhu Lingxi slowly stand up.
She glanced outside the tool shed and added very seriously,
“Miss Cen, please do not step over there.”
“Alright.”
Leaning against his vine wheelchair, Pei Tinglan gave a cold look at the Nuo mask on Zhu Lingxi's waist.
He didn't make a sound.
But the careless mockery in his eyes faded slightly.
Only then did Cen Yao remember Pei Tinglan.
She retrieved a healing potion from her System inventory, walked over, and handed it to him.
“Here.”
Pei Tinglan didn't take it.
Cen Yao had no choice but to stuff the potion into his arms.
“Don't misunderstand, I'm not feeling sorry for you.”
“If you smell too much like blood and attract monsters, all three of us will be in trouble.”
Pei Tinglan lowered his eyes to look at the potion in his arms, then looked up at her.
His eyes carried that familiar mockery.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Former fan.”
Cen Yao: “...”
Excellent.
It seemed he still had the energy to be sarcastic.
So he probably wasn't broken.
Rate on N.U.
