Chapter 206
Chapter 206
The cold white glow of a tree covered in Migu Flower blossoms illuminated the chamber, which had been modeled after the courtyard garden of a European-style building.
Qin Ying slipped through the door like a thief.
At the sight of a normal-sized Confusion Tree, she abandoned several reckless ideas.
She stood to the right of the entrance, her back pressed against the moss-covered wall, and carefully surveyed the chamber, reassessing how dangerous this place might be.
The damp, circular room looked as though it had been submerged underwater. It was divided into two levels.
The vaulted ceiling rose high overhead, dripping water, while patches of mold spread everywhere.
Ancient wooden bookcases stretched all the way to the ceiling and were connected by galleries. Stairs behind the shelves provided access to the books, and every shelf within sight was packed with volumes.
Qin Ying recognized the layout at once. It was a budget replica of Italy’s Angelica Library.
She turned her attention to the Migu Flower tree planted in the center.
The flowering tree stood twice as tall as a person, its branches densely covered in Migu Flower blossoms.
Perhaps because no one had tended to or harvested them in years, the flowers had grown exceptionally lush, flooding the chamber with light.
Beneath the Migu Flower tree stood an oak desk. A corpse lay reclined in the chair behind it, and from where Qin Ying stood, she could see its waxen face.
The monocle perched on its prominent nose had already sunk more than halfway into its waxy eye socket.
She was too far away to determine the cause of death.
All she could see was a sheet of paper lying on the desk, something that resembled a suicide note.
Qin Ying badly wanted to go over and take a look, but with the three poor bastards upstairs who had been seriously wounded by an explosion serving as a cautionary tale, she held back.
Instead, she searched the room with her eyes.
There was a staircase beside the bookcase to her right that led to the second-floor gallery. Qin Ying shrugged her shoulder, sending the Thunderbird ahead to scout.
After shocking Qin Ying earlier, the Thunderbird was still feeling guilty and eager to redeem itself.
It spread its wings and flew ahead, checking both inside and outside twice before landing on the wooden railing upstairs. It flapped its wings at Qin Ying as if waving her over.
Qin Ying waded through finger-deep water and climbed to the second-floor gallery.
She could see much more clearly from above.
The strange figure with a waist as narrow as the mouth of a cup was carrying Zhang Yuqin’s corpse through the door at the far end of the chamber.
After a moment’s thought, Qin Ying refused to let the sodden corpse distract her.
She discarded her torch, pointed at the Confusion Tree, and told the Thunderbird to fetch her a Migu Flower for light.
The Thunderbird beat its wings and shot away like a tiny bolt of lightning. A moment later, it returned with a Migu Flower in its beak.
Qin Ying pulled a strap from the bottom hem of her mountaineering jacket, tied it around the stem beneath the Migu Flower, and hung it from her waist, fashioning a small lamp.
She then followed the damp, warped boards of the wooden gallery toward the door at the far end of the chamber.
The Thunderbird flew ahead to scout the way.
When they were halfway there, it suddenly chirped a warning at Qin Ying.
She stopped short.
Looking in the direction the Thunderbird indicated, she spotted another narrow-waisted monster kneeling behind a stack of books.
The monster itself was not the real problem. More importantly, a thin chain had been fastened around its narrow waist.
At the other end of the chain sat a wooden box.
If the monster moved, it would pull the chain and trigger whatever was inside the box.
Judging by the explosion upstairs, the box was clearly not hiding a harmless jack-in-the-box.
A wave of belated fear washed over Qin Ying. She was immensely grateful that she had restrained her impulsiveness and chosen to take the long way around.
After a moment’s consideration, she lightly flicked the short sword in her right hand.
“Can you deal with it?”
In theory, this type of detonator was mechanically triggered by impact. If Di Shang could remove the firing pin and hammer, the trap could be disarmed.
Perhaps sensing what Qin Ying was thinking, the tip of the short sword in her hand seemed to melt, releasing a single drop of liquid.
The bead-sized droplet hit the floor and transformed into an extremely fine silver thread. It slipped through a gap between the warped gallery boards and descended to the level below.
Like a tiny snake, it swam through the standing water before silently slipping through a crack in the wooden box.
Qin Ying watched tensely. Afraid Di Shang might slip up, she cautiously took two steps back.
Before long, nothing deadly had happened to the wooden crate. Instead, Di Shang squeezed back out through the crack, its body now slightly thicker.
As though grabbing a snack along the way, it crawled onto the chain connecting the crate to the narrow-waisted monster.
The unrusted metal vanished like melting wax, and Di Shang swelled along with it.
With a clatter, the chain snapped and fell to the floor. The narrow-waisted monster twitched as though startled.
Qin Ying’s heart leaped, and her gaze instinctively fell on the monster’s waist.
The next second, a silver filament shot out from the pooled water.
No thicker than a strand of hair, it wrapped tightly around the monster’s waist.
Then it pulled taut, slicing through the creature like thread through sponge cake and cutting it cleanly in two.
Its waist, no wider than the rim of a cup, split cleanly in two.
Both halves fell into the water, and the black preservative fluid inside spread outward.
Up on the gallery, Qin Ying and the Thunderbird perched on her shoulder both recoiled in astonishment.
She murmured, “As expected of something that eats gold.”
Now that was value for money!
The Thunderbird silently turned to look at her, disappointment in its eyes.
After rolling through the water, Di Shang had grown as thick as an earthworm.
Then its body split into five or six fine filaments that swam off in different directions.
It was actually taking the initiative to scout for danger on Qin Ying’s behalf.
Touched, Qin Ying ran a hand over the short sword she was holding. “Once we get out, I’ll buy you a gold bar.”
The work Di Shang was doing was worth the price.
The Thunderbird on her shoulder anxiously hopped twice.
“You’ve contributed too,” Qin Ying said. “When we get back, I’ll buy you… sunflower seeds?”
Even she felt a little guilty saying it.
Fortunately, the Thunderbird was a cheerful little bird that cared nothing for material possessions. Even a single bag of sunflower seeds was enough to delight it.
Qin Ying stroked its tiny head and continued onward.
She left Di Shang roaming throughout the room in countless forms, devouring and digesting every unrusted metal ring it found.
When she reached the door at the far end of the room, Qin Ying made her way down from the second-floor gallery.
As before, the Thunderbird went in first to scout.
The moment Qin Ying stepped through the rotting door, she froze in astonishment.
Below her lay a sunken laboratory.
The rusty water covering the floor held all manner of yellowed vessels and many a Specimen Bottle.
Some examples of the Specimen Bottle stood twice a person’s height, while others were no larger than a palm.
Something floated inside every one of them, suspended in murky liquid.
Unlike the well-lit area outside, where Migu Flower provided illumination, this place held only a few empty kerosene lamps.
They had most likely once contained Migu Flower for light, but the plucked blossoms had long since withered and rotted away.
The Migu Flower Lamp at Qin Ying’s waist was now the room’s only light source.
Her toe shifted slightly and struck a Specimen Bottle.
The jam-jar-like bottle rolled away with a hollow rumble.
In the silence, the sound was painfully conspicuous.
Qin Ying’s nerves tightened, and she jerked her head back.
A vicious gust swept toward her. A withered arm reeking of decay skimmed past her face.
The yellowed cloth strips wrapped around the arm left a damp streak across her cheek.
Disgust surged through Qin Ying. She swung her right hand.
Within the cold white glow of the Migu Flower, the branchlike arm was severed at the elbow.
Qin Ying stepped forward and slashed again with the short sword.
She had no swordsmanship to speak of and relied entirely on the exceptional sharpness of the weapon Di Shang had become.
There was a crisp snick, and the narrow-waisted monster that had followed the noise and lunged at her face toppled to the floor.
Its two halves struck the ground, sending water splashing everywhere.
Qin Ying’s scalp prickled. She sensed that something had opened its eyes and fixed its gaze upon her.
“Another bride?”
A voice spoke from the darkness, sounding as though its throat were clogged with rusty water.