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墨書 Inktalez
I exchanged a glance with my senior sister, and we both felt an ominous premonition.
With Cold Bench's temperament, he wouldn't simply "flee in fear of punishment." Moreover, it was not easy to convince my senior sister to accompany me to Wan Poison Palace. Neither Cold Bench nor Old Qiao would easily let this opportunity slip away.
That meant—something unexpected had occurred.
My senior sister nodded at me, probably having the same thought. She signaled for me to act cautiously and keep quiet, reminding me to have our weapons ready.
We quietly slipped out of Cold Bench's tent. My senior sister headed east to check the other two tents, while I went west to confirm the situation with Third Granduncle Master and his six companions.
As I carefully lifted the tent flap, I saw three sleeping bags laid out side by side, but not a single person was in sight. Their backpacks and belongings were still there; it was quite strange.
I immediately realized that this was a voluntary and unforced sudden departure. Although the sleeping bags and commonly used items were placed haphazardly, there were no signs of being disturbed or deliberately rearranged. If three grown men kept their space tidy, that would be truly eerie.
I quickly scanned the area and noticed that only one thing was missing—a flashlight.
I stepped back to find my senior sister and discovered she was still in our tent with my junior brother, as there was a faint light coming from inside.
Suddenly, a cold wind brushed against my neck, making me shiver. Instinctively, I scanned the surroundings. The tall cedar trees cast vague shadows; if they weren't so tall, they would resemble people hiding in the dark.
Thinking of this made my back feel cold. I instinctively tightened my collar and hurried over to my senior sister. She was crouched over one of the sleeping bags, seemingly examining something.
I crouched down beside her and shone my flashlight on the sleeping bag belonging to my junior brother. There was a dark stain at the top—was that saliva? I reached out to touch it and was immediately startled: "Is this blood?!"
My senior sister frowned in silence, lost in thought about something.
The position of the bloodstain was truly concerning. With my junior brother's height, lying down in that spot would place it right at his neck. A chill ran down my spine at the thought; if this bloodstain really belonged to him, the injury would be extremely dangerous, even… potentially fatal.
I immediately shook off the thought, forcing myself not to dwell on it. My junior brother was no slouch in martial arts; even if he were sound asleep, he would still have the instinct to scream in pain, right? How could he possibly go missing without a sound among so many people?
The situation at that time must have been far from simple. It was highly likely that this encampment was the source of the chaos. They must have realized this and chosen to evacuate quietly, so hurriedly that they didn’t notice one or two people were missing. Thus, my senior sister and I were now caught in some unseen, immense danger.
Just then, a sudden gust of wind whipped outside, causing the leaves to rustle and the tent to flap violently, sending chills down our spines.
My senior sister and I exchanged tense glances and immediately grasped our weapons, our arms pressed together in a defensive stance as we kept a close watch on the entrance. My heart raced wildly, my muscles tensed, and the cold sweat in my palms made it nearly impossible to hold onto my staff.
We remained rigid for about ten seconds until the wind gradually subsided, and the surroundings returned to calm. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, my senior sister furrowed her brow and whispered to me, “Listen.”
At her words, I tilted my ear to listen for a moment and quickly understood her meaning: it was too quiet—there were no chirping insects or singing birds, just an eerie silence.
If something out there was waiting for us, it would be terrifying.
However, staying hidden inside the tent was hardly a wise choice. Although this tent was a Russian-made military model—one of the sturdiest and most durable types—it couldn’t withstand the sharp teeth and claws of wild beasts. Being trapped here severely limited our visibility and mobility; it was akin to walking into a trap.
With a shared resolve, we nodded at each other and slowly crouched as we stepped out of the tent. The outside world had completely transformed; broken branches and fallen leaves littered the ground. Next to us, A Li’s tent had two corners blown open, with sleeping bags and personal belongings scattered everywhere. I even spotted a white lace bra among the debris.
At that moment, an unpleasant stench suddenly filled the air, reminiscent of someone passing gas.
I shot a guilty glance at my senior sister, fearing she might think it was me. Just as I was about to explain myself, she pinched her nose in disgust and asked, “What is that smell?”
I quickly clarified, “It wasn’t me.”
She shot me an incredulous look. “Do you think it was me?” Then she sniffed again curiously and added, “Do you smell… something like barbecued meat?”
I immediately shook my head; besides the smell of flatulence, I couldn't detect anything else. My senior sister slapped the back of my head with a "smack" and urged, "Take a good whiff!"
Reluctantly pinching my nose, I took two quick sniffs. Instantly, a foul odor reminiscent of something that hadn't been excreted in a long time assaulted my nostrils. I nearly fainted from the stench! But upon closer inspection, there seemed to be a faint scent of something burnt, perhaps meat.
I nodded vigorously to my senior sister, still holding my nose, and followed the smell. It led me to the fire pit where our junior brother A Chen and the others had previously roasted rat meat. Inside lay a charred rat head, about the size of an anti-tank grenade, accompanied by a triangular piece of burnt flesh that looked like the rat's backside. Now, the rat's head had turned into a lump of charcoal; without those two stark white incisors, it would have been unrecognizable.
The wind had blown the rat's head up from beneath the ash, releasing the odor into the air.
I exclaimed in surprise, "How can the rats here be so big?"
My senior sister picked up a stick and poked at the charred rat head before prying open its mouth with it. At that moment, I caught a glimpse of a row of sharp teeth inside and felt an unsettling sensation wash over me.
She set down the stick and said, "This isn't just any rat; it's a Mao Mouse. Specimens this size are not uncommon in Aba; some can even grow as large as a fifteen or sixteen-year-old child."
I asked, "What is a Mao Mouse?"
My senior sister explained, "A Mao Mouse is known as the Frugivorous Civet. It has short fur that is black, gray, and brown, a long tail, and is somewhat plump. However, at this size, it can no longer be considered 'slightly' plump. A typical Mao Mouse measures about 40 to 50 centimeters in length and weighs between 3,000 to 5,000 grams. They have short and sturdy limbs with sharp claws. One distinct feature is a white stripe running across their forehead and nose. They are often found in forests, caves, tree hollows, or burrows and are nocturnal..." She paused slightly, took another deep sniff, and her expression changed dramatically.
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