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墨書 Inktalez
Although they only understood bits and pieces, who among them wasn't sharp? Seeing the situation, they all perked up their ears, listening quietly and discreetly.
Cold Bench probably didn't expect his junior to be so straightforward, asking such a direct question in front of so many people. He was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his composure, continuing to grill the meat skewers in front of him with a blank expression, as if his junior's inquiry had nothing to do with him.
After two or three seconds, he replied, "No."
I exchanged glances with my junior. Cold Bench was highly trustworthy; if he said no, then it really wasn't him.
Now, the question returned to square one. If the Illusionist wasn't Cold Bench, then who could it be?
I felt there was no need to delve deeper into the matter of the Illusionist. First, it was unlikely we would uncover anything valuable. Second, if Third Granduncle Master were to inquire about the details, he would inevitably guess that this Illusionary Technique was also one of Shimen's Eight Great Skills. We might confide in him, but he might not appreciate it and could reciprocate with the same treatment towards us. That wouldn't be worth it; I wasn't going to engage in a losing deal. Third, if we discussed Shimen openly here, it would imply that Old Qiao, A Li, and Cold Bench were close enough to us to share Shimen's secrets. Of course, my junior and I felt that way about our relationship, but Third Granduncle Master certainly didn't see it that way—especially since he was an old-school conservative who would never allow such a thing to happen. Fourth, if Third Granduncle Master thought further about it, he could easily deduce A Li and Cold Bench's true identities: one from the New School and the other from the Old School.
My mind raced as I considered all this. It became clear that we absolutely should not discuss Illusionary Technique any further. I decided to steer the conversation toward something else: "By the way, Old Qiao, what happened back in that weapons depot?"
Old Qiao paused for a moment, rubbing his chin as he struggled to recall. A Li prompted him: "It was next to that Zhi Jia Liu; when you pulled off the umbrella cover, what went wrong?"
"Oh, that..." Old Qiao's expression shifted to one of realization. "That was just something I said offhand; it didn't mean anything. Why did you suddenly think to ask about that?"
Now it was my turn to feel awkward. Should I express my true thoughts? We were all cunning wolves playing deceitful games; none of us truly regarded each other as allies? But according to A Li's method, I had always been the one causing disruptions—not quite to the extent of sowing discord but certainly making things uncomfortable.
These thoughts were something I could never voice in front of everyone. What if I was right and A Li was wrong? What if everything was just her illusion? The atmosphere among us was indeed awkward; if I brought this up now, wouldn't that completely shatter any pretense? How would we interact afterward?
People always needed to save face in their relationships.
What should I do after all this?
Just as I was caught in a dilemma, A Li came to my rescue. Without mentioning anything else, just the fact that since we had entered the thief's cave, my emotional fluctuations had been abnormal, suggesting that there might be something special nearby causing people's emotions to spiral out of control.
A Li said this, and Liu Zi chimed in with a similar sentiment: “You know what? I feel it too! It’s like I want to get angry just by seeing something!” However, his tone clearly carried an element of flattery and insincerity, making it hard to take him seriously.
How could my junior brother not pick up on this? He scoffed, “You’re just like a dog that can’t change its nature; this has nothing to do with us!”
Liu Zi’s face flushed with embarrassment, and he was furious, rolling up his sleeves: “Are you looking for a fight?!”
At that moment, Third Granduncle Master shouted, “Everyone shut the hell up!” The next command was, “Come over and eat!”
Everyone had been silenced by his shout but suddenly felt the urge to laugh. They lowered their heads, trying to suppress their amusement while exchanging knowing glances as they gathered around the smokeless stove.
Old Qiao, ever the peacemaker, jumped in to smooth things over: “Right, right! Let’s eat while we talk!”
Thinking about the rotting corpses I had seen at the bottom of the pool—though it was just an illusion—my stomach churned violently. I felt nauseous from my throat all the way to the back of my head; there was no way I could muster any appetite. So I just sat down and drank some water.
The others had been at it for so long that they were starving. The moment they caught a whiff of the meat aroma, they couldn’t help but drool. No one bothered with conversation; they wolfed down their food ravenously. Liu Zi’s mouth turned red from the heat, yet he kept exclaiming, “Delicious! This is so damn good!” as he stuffed whole skewers into his mouth without even chewing properly before swallowing.
In less than five minutes, Cold Bench and the others had devoured two-thirds of the roasted canned meat. They were burping contentedly but still kept shoving food into their mouths. Watching them made my mouth water too; that aroma was absolutely irresistible! Unable to resist any longer, I tried a skewer myself. It was indeed bursting with flavor—seasoned perfectly with cumin, oil, and chili powder. Third Granduncle Master, that old fox, really knew how to enjoy life.
Eventually, only a few skewers were left. As everyone divided them up and filled their bellies, they began chatting while eating. Liu Zi said, “Hey, could it be that you’re… what’s it called… right! Dual Personality! Maybe being in this tomb triggered it. I’ve heard of such cases before where someone has Dual Personality, but they don’t even know it until a specific stimulus brings it out. That’s when their friends realize…”
My junior brother couldn’t stand Liu Zi’s rambling anymore, especially when he was trying to show off in front of A Li. He wiped his mouth and said sharply, “Hmph! I’ve grown up sharing pants with my Senior Brother. How could I not know if he has Dual Personality? Right, A Li?”
A Li was unaware of the secret competition between his junior brother and Liu Zi, simply testifying, "That's right, Brother Qian Yi is definitely not Dual Personality." He completely missed the increasingly grim expression on Liu Zi's face and the crooked smile on his junior brother's lips.
However, given A Li's meticulous and clever nature, it was very likely that he had already sensed something but chose to pretend not to notice, preferring to avoid unnecessary trouble.
I raised both hands in a vow, "I swear to Mao Zedong that I absolutely do not have Dual Personality."
"Then that's strange... Have you ever experienced anything similar before? Could it be some hereditary condition?" A Chen asked.
I shook my head. "No, but as for whether my old man had it, I wouldn't know."
A Chen nodded in understanding. As fellow orphans, we shared a silent bond that required no further explanation. Suddenly, he added, "Could it be influenced by those red birds in the cave?"
Old Qiao looked puzzled. "What red birds?"
I understood what he meant. "They're a type of meteorite with six Chuan Shan Claws. They can fly, emit electricity, and can be harmful. I call them 'Meteor Monsters.' Once a person gets close to them, their emotions can become very volatile and hard to control." I thought for a moment and continued, "But there are no Meteor Monsters here. If there were, how could I be the only one affected while you all are fine?"
At that moment, my junior brother's expression changed dramatically as he muttered to himself, "No way... could it be because of that?"
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