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墨書 Inktalez
I heard my own heavy, labored breathing, my neck aching to the point of near numbness, my mind as heavy as a stagnant pool of water. I was exhausted—truly exhausted... I longed to close my eyes and end it all... But I couldn't. In the Illusionary Realm, there was no death, no escape, only endless cycles of reincarnation... I had to get out!
I fumbled in my pants pocket, struggling to pull out what was inside. I knew my hand was bleeding—good... Finally, something was going my way. All I needed to do was drip my blood into this incense burner, and it would all be over... " Cold Bench," despite all my calculations, I never expected to have grabbed the Huan Ling catalyst so easily. This time, could it be considered a win for me? Damn it, I must have made quite an impression!
As for whether I actually managed to drip the blood in or how I came back afterward? I had no idea; at that moment, I was simply too tired. Just making it to that point was a miracle in itself. Later, when my junior brother heard me recount the story, he exclaimed in regret that if he had been there, he would have pinched his own thigh just to hold on until the last moment.
What I do know is that when I woke up again, the illusion had completely ended. The train had unknowingly arrived in Chengdu. While checking our luggage, I found Old Ge's letter, my staff, and my junior brother's Ze Zhang—all of which confirmed that this part of the experience had indeed happened.
We found an old van at the station and negotiated with the driver to take us directly to Aba for double the fare. The driver appeared to be around fifty years old and was a local from Chengdu; everyone called him Dong Ge. He looked honest and reliable, which was one of the reasons we chose him.
At first, Dong Ge was reluctant to take the job—most likely because our offer was too high, making him think we were up to no good. That's how things are these days; the more generous you are with your money, the more suspicious people become. In the end, Old Qiao managed to persuade him with his silver tongue, and with A Li sweet-talking him on the side, Dong Ge finally nodded but insisted we pay half upfront and the other half once we reached our destination. My junior brother readily agreed.
The dialect from Luoyang is quite different from other regional dialects; it has almost no accent. Anyone who understands Mandarin can understand Luoyang dialect as well. Therefore, we couldn't communicate in dialect like they do in movies for fear of being overheard. This was also why we were willing to pay a high price for a private vehicle instead of taking public transport—it's better for one person to hear us than a whole bus full.
We piled our luggage in the front passenger seat and all four of us sat in the back together. At first, we were cautious; we chatted away about various topics while Dong Ge didn't even interject a word or turn his head—his professionalism was commendable.
As we traveled further along the route and time passed, we could no longer hold back our thoughts. My junior brother took the lead and we began sharing our experiences.
It turned out everyone’s memories were stuck at the moment before Cold Bench appeared. They thought like I did at that time—that we had been cursed and trapped in some sort of Dead Loop. I briefly recounted what had happened afterward, and once they understood the sequence of events, everyone fell silent. Cold Bench had been right about one thing: we were indeed in trouble this time.
My junior brother broke the silence first; his main concern was how I ultimately broke the catalyst: “Master... oh no, I mean that Illusionist... he didn’t teach you how you knew you needed your own blood to destroy Huan Ling’s catalyst?”
I have indeed pondered this question, but I have never been able to verify it. Now, I might as well share my thoughts for their reference. I said, "I don’t know; my mind was a mess at the time, and my reactions were purely instinctive... However, after some reflection, I came up with three possible explanations: First, it could be that I stumbled upon the method of the Breaking Illusion Spirit Technique by sheer luck. As for what that method is, I can’t say right now; second, perhaps there was poison in my blood that reacted with the medicine, leading to an unexpected breakthrough; third, it’s possible that the Illusionist had already achieved their goal and simply let us go."
My junior brother crossed his arms and thought for a moment before saying, "In that case, it seems this matter has nothing to do with your abilities, Senior Brother. It’s all down to your luck."
"Hey! That’s not fair!" I retorted. "The most crucial item in all of this was something I cleverly devised. The 'master' was fixated on that incense burner in the illusion. I thought to myself, this person is usually indifferent to everything; why is he suddenly so concerned about this burner? There must be something wrong here, so I decided to follow the tradition of improvisation."
My junior brother scoffed, "What do you mean by 'following the tradition of improvisation'? You’re using 'improvisation' as if you have the right to! Only someone like me, a true master among masters, can truly improvise." He then produced a black bracelet from his hand and waved it in front of me. "Hey Senior Brother, which girl gave you this?"
I replied, "Don’t be ridiculous; this thing isn’t mine." He raised an eyebrow at my right hand and said, "Whether it’s yours or not is easy to tell."
Following his gaze, I looked at my right wrist and was surprised to find a faint circular indentation—definitely a mark left by wearing a bracelet for an extended period. Now I was puzzled: who had put this bracelet on me? Why didn’t I feel anything?
Seeing my expression, my junior brother realized I wasn’t lying and leaned back against the car seat, fanning the flames of gossip. "Ahh, another romantic debt! Senior Brother, just how many shady things have you done behind our backs? No wonder I've felt so unlucky on this trip; those girls you’ve wronged must be coming to collect!"
Suddenly, I recalled the Red-Clothed Old Monster beneath the Qinling Tree Well and felt a pang of discomfort. I muttered, "If they want to find someone, let them go after him; it has nothing to do with me."
My junior brother exclaimed in surprise, probably not hearing me clearly. At that moment, Old Qiao had already spun the bracelet around in his hand and laughed heartily. "What a fine item! Truly a fine item!"
My junior brother was most interested in such things and immediately focused his attention on Old Qiao. With drool almost spilling from his mouth, he asked eagerly, "What fine item? Hurry up!"
Upon hearing the flattery, Old Qiao's old habits kicked in as he stroked his beard while laughing and nodding. He seemed lost in admiration for that "fine item." Meanwhile, my junior brother was getting impatient and snatched the bracelet away before naturally slipping it into his pocket. "Since it's a fine item, it's safer with me. Old Qiao, come on! Stop keeping us in suspense!"
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