Hearing this, Zhu Lingxi also looked at Cen Yao earnestly.
Those eyes seemed to say:
I want to know too.
Cen Yao looked down and happened to see the round cat ears on top of Zhu Lingxi's head.
Hidden in her soft black hair, the cat ears twitched slightly as she looked up.
Cen Yao held back for two seconds.
But she couldn't resist.
She reached out and gave them a rub.
They were incredibly soft.
The texture was unbelievably good.
Zhu Lingxi blinked and didn't dodge.
She even lowered her head slightly to make it easier for Cen Yao to pet them.
Cen Yao withdrew her hand in satisfaction.
Watching this scene, Pei Tinglan's brow twitched.
Cen Yao didn't notice his complicated expression. She simply spoke in a leisurely manner, recounting the clues she had discovered in the abandoned cabin.
She started from the claw marks covering the walls, moved to the date on the old newspaper, and finally described the cats and dogs that had been tortured to death in the Coffee Community.
She didn't describe the photos in the newspaper in detail.
But when she mentioned that some of the animals had been brutally abused, Zhu Lingxi's fingers resting on her knees slowly tightened.
Pei Tinglan's face darkened as well.
He listened in silence until she finished.
“The date on the newspaper was April 17, 2017,”
Cen Yao said, standing beside the vine chair and twirling her wand between her fingers.
“The police caught the perpetrator afterward.”
“A fifteen-year-old boy.”
“But because he was a minor, and because there was a lack of relevant laws at the time, he was only given a lecture.”
Zhu Lingxi murmured, “As light as a piece of paper.”
Cen Yao looked up.
Zhu Lingxi stared at the souls within the magic circle.
“Their lives are as light as a piece of paper.”
“That's why those people aren't afraid.”
“Because no one will ever seek justice for them.”
The night wind blew past, causing the glowing specks of the souls to sway gently.
A few civet cats seemed to understand, quietly raising their heads.
Cen Yao didn't say anything.
She simply gripped her wand tighter.
Pei Tinglan looked at the magic circle on the ground and suddenly spoke.
“So, this coffee plantation is a dungeon formed from that incident?”
“Probably more than just that,”
Cen Yao said slowly.
“The claw marks in that room don't match the timeline of the newspaper.”
“The ones who died in the newspaper were the cats and dogs of the Coffee Community. But the ones kept in captivity and abused here are civet cats.”
“This dungeon must have merged two different kinds of suffering together.”
“One is the original evil.”
“And the other is the evil that was repeatedly committed afterward.”
She looked up, gazing at the rows of open iron cages in the breeding area.
“Those civet cats were trapped here, forced to constantly eat coffee cherries and defecate. If they couldn't, they were shocked with stun batons. They had no freedom in life, and even in death, they couldn't leave.”
“The dungeon exists by feeding on their resentment.”
“And using that resentment, it reenacts the things humans did to them over and over again.”
Pei Tinglan fell silent for a moment after listening.
“Then what does that have to do with you summoning their souls?”
He pointed at the souls floating in the magic circle.
“They're already dead.”
“Even if you gather them together, what can you possibly do?”
Cen Yao didn't answer right away.
She leaned lazily against the back of Zhu Lingxi's vine chair, looking down as she idly toyed with the wand in her hand.
The wand spun between her fingertips.
One rotation.
Then another.
The moonlight fell upon the brim of her hat, casting a shadow that obscured most of her face.
It made it impossible to read the emotions in her eyes.
Yet, as if sensing something, Zhu Lingxi's gaze slowly drifted over to Cen Yao.
The wind swept through the coffee trees.
The souls within the magic circle swayed gently.
From a distance, the faint, intermittent sounds of several civet cats chewing their food drifted over.
A long time passed.
So long that Pei Tinglan thought Cen Yao didn't intend to answer at all.
Only then did Cen Yao let out a soft, mocking chuckle.
“Heh.”
Beneath the brim of her hat, her eyes shone with startling brilliance.
The gentleness she had shown when comforting Zhu Lingxi had now completely faded.
In its place was a chilling coldness that could make one's spine tingle.
“Having someone else take revenge for them,” Cen Yao said slowly, “how could that ever be as satisfying as doing it themselves?”
After Cen Yao's words fell, the surroundings became so quiet that only the sound of the wind remained.
The souls floating in the magic circle seemed to have heard her as well.
Those tiny specks of light began to quiver slightly, and within their originally gentle glow, a faint hint of blood-red subtly emerged.
Zhu Lingxi didn't speak.
She simply watched the souls, her fingers slowly tightening around the hem of her clothes.
Pei Tinglan leaned back in his wheelchair, looking at Cen Yao with great interest.
Under the moonlight, his sharply handsome features were cast in slight shadow, as if he had finally grasped some meaning from her cryptic words.
“So, what exactly do you plan to do?”
Cen Yao didn't answer.
She turned her head and looked straight at Pei Tinglan.
Without saying a word.
Her eyes were incredibly focused.
So focused that Pei Tinglan initially thought she was contemplating something important, but the longer she stared, the more off it felt.
Cen Yao just stared at him intently.
Without blinking.
And without looking away.
The night wind swept between them, kicking up a bit of charred ash from the ground.
A sudden chill ran down Pei Tinglan's spine.
He instinctively sat up a bit straighter, his brow furrowing.
“Why are you staring at me?”
Cen Yao stroked her chin thoughtfully.
“You still haven't told me.”
“What exactly did you do today?”
Pei Tinglan's expression froze.
Cen Yao continued to stare at him.
“Don't tell me you went looking for the back door. I already know that.”
“But how did you go looking for it?”
She swept her gaze up and down Pei Tinglan's wheelchair, her eyes finally landing on his legs.
“You're a cat with only two working legs. How far could you possibly go?”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
He looked at Cen Yao and fell silent for a second.
Surprisingly, he wasn't angry.
Perhaps it was because he had been dragged around by her and Zhu Lingxi all day, or perhaps because he had heard terms like “cripple,” “little cripple,” and “two-legged cat” so many times over the past two days that his ears had grown calluses.
Pei Tinglan simply averted his gaze awkwardly.
“With my Talent, of course.”
Cen Yao's face grew even more peculiar.
“You can use your Talent during the day?”
Both her and Zhu Lingxi's abilities were heavily suppressed during the day.
Her magic was practically unusable, and her mind would turn sluggish. Many logical deductions that should have been obvious at a glance felt as though they were obscured by a layer of frosted glass during the daytime.
Zhu Lingxi fared slightly better.
At least her intelligence wasn't dragged underwater by the dungeon like Cen Yao's.
But she couldn't manifest her Nuo God Talent either.
During the day, Zhu Lingxi was just Zhu Lingxi.
She wasn't the Nuo God who could put on a mask and borrow divine power to bring down calamities.
Yet, Pei Tinglan was different.
Not only could he use his Talent, but he could even use it to control a human staff member to carry him all over the plantation.
How much does this dungeon hate to see her do well?
The more Cen Yao thought about it, the angrier she became.
Seeing the blatant envy and jealousy in her eyes, Pei Tinglan felt a long-lost, highly inappropriate sense of smugness rise in his chest.
He raised his brows slightly.
“I can.”
Cen Yao: “...”
She stared at him.
Pei Tinglan stared back.
After a moment, Cen Yao suddenly let out a laugh.
“Heh.”
She was laughing out of sheer frustration.
“Then why didn't you use it during the day?”
“Were you happy watching Lingxi and me miserably dragging you around?”
She recalled their journey during the day.
She and Zhu Lingxi had exerted so much effort biting and dragging Pei Tinglan around, getting mouthfuls of fur that they had to constantly find places to spit out.
Especially whenever someone passed by, the two of them had to desperately shove this young master into the shadows.
And yet, this guy had kept a dark face the entire time.
Recalling it now, Cen Yao still felt like an absolute sucker.
Sure enough, Pei Tinglan's face darkened.
“I refused,” his tone suddenly turning cold.
“You two were the ones who insisted on carrying me along.”
Cen Yao: “???”
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