It was a silver three-pronged candelabra, with three white candles of varying lengths inserted into its base, their wicks showing signs of previous use.
The heat of the flame had spread to her fingertips.
Lin Yu endured the burn and reached out to light the candles.
The glow from the three candles was far brighter than the match, enough to illuminate her immediate surroundings.
She held the candelabra up and first examined the table in front of her.
It was empty, with nothing else on it.
Lin Yu frowned, ran a finger across the smooth surface, then brought it to her eyes, inspecting it under the candlelight.
No dust—someone must clean this room regularly.
She shifted her gaze, raising the candelabra higher, and looked straight ahead.
There was a wall, dark gray, made of bricks.
So old-fashioned?
Lin Yu’s heart sank with an uneasy premonition.
She quickly lowered her head to examine her clothing.
She wore a light green dress with a high collar adorned with lace trim.
The sleeves puffed at the shoulders and tightened near the wrists, a leg-of-mutton style.
Ignoring the curve at her chest, the waistline was normal but cinched tightly, making her waist appear slender, like a delicate rose, fragile and easily broken.
The lower part was a matching skirt with layered, ruffled hems—beautiful but impractical for movement.
Lin Yu shifted her gaze from the clothes, moved the candelabra, and looked back at the bed she had been lying on.
The bed was large, with a half-canopy design, draped with four embroidered curtains, elegant and luxurious.
Lin Yu: “…”
A candelabra, an elaborate women’s dress, vintage decor—what era was this civilization from?
The lack of information was maddening.
Lin Yu shook her head, brushing aside extraneous thoughts.
The candles wouldn’t last forever, and her priority was to search the room thoroughly.
With the candlelight, she surveyed the room.
It wasn’t large.
The biggest piece was the bed on the left side.
To the right of the bed were a solid wooden table and a waist-high cabinet.
Next to the cabinet hung a curtain, likely concealing a window.
Perfect—checking the view outside might help.
If it’s on the first floor, she could escape through the window if needed.
With this in mind, Lin Yu walked to the curtain and gave it a gentle tug.
Hm?
The curtain didn’t budge, as if fixed in place.
Was it stuck?
Lin Yu frowned, pulling harder, but it still wouldn’t move.
The curtain seemed fused to the wall, and as it swayed slightly, the candlelight’s reach seemed to shrink, or perhaps the already deep darkness grew even thicker.
That eerie sense of unease returned, and faintly, Lin Yu felt as though she was being watched, a chill brushing against her neck.
She pursed her lips, her eyes half-lowered, showing no outward reaction, though her fingers gripping the candelabra whitened.
Only when she let go of the curtain and walked toward the cabinet did the unsettling feeling gradually fade.
There was something else in this room besides her!
A flash of vivid blood-red and a pair of hollow eyes crossed her mind.
This place wasn’t as safe as it seemed—sooner or later, something like the classroom incident would happen!
She decided immediately: she had to leave.
Lin Yu didn’t move right away.
She didn’t want to act too deliberately and alert whatever unknown entity lurked in the darkness.
Up until pulling the curtain, she hadn’t noticed anything unusual, so the safest plan was to proceed methodically, search the cabinet, and leave naturally.
Opening the cabinet, Lin Yu froze, her eyes widening.
At the bottom were two items: a short-handled dagger in a leather sheath and, glinting coldly under the candlelight, a handgun.
A wave of fear rose in Lin Yu’s heart, her subconscious rejecting these objects.
In her previous education, guns were strictly controlled items, inaccessible under normal circumstances.
But faintly, she felt a thrill—her lingering masculine spirit stirring.
Besides, in a situation like this, having such a powerful weapon for self-defense was incredibly reassuring.
What was that saying?
All fear stems from insufficient firepower.
Lin Yu licked her dry lips and reached out, picking up the handgun.
It wasn’t too heavy but felt substantial—or rather, it felt like security.
It was a revolver with a wooden grip, a long barrel and frame, slightly longer than her current palm, about twenty centimeters in total length.
It didn’t look brand new.
Lin Yu exhaled, holding the revolver’s grip, but then hesitated.
She wanted to check the gun’s condition but had no idea where to start.
Her knowledge of firearms was minimal, gleaned mostly from video games.
She could name a few types, maybe shout about snipers, AKs, M4s, or shotguns in casual banter.
But faced with a real gun, she was at a loss, knowing only that a revolver required cocking the hammer before firing.
Lin Yu placed the candelabra on the table, then raised the revolver, practicing the same aiming stance several times in the air.
It wasn’t her inner chuunibyou acting up—she was ensuring she could move quickly if she needed to use it.
Of course, the best scenario was not having to use it at all.
The revolver’s seven chambers were all loaded, no risk of an empty gun.
After checking its condition, Lin Yu set it down and pulled the dagger from its sheath.
The dagger was about the same length as the revolver, with a blood groove parallel to the blade’s spine.
It was well-maintained and looked very sharp.
Lin Yu swung it lightly twice before putting it away.
She thought for a moment, rolled up her left sleeve, exposing a smooth, delicate forearm.
Lin Yu: “…”
This body was so unfamiliar.
She pursed her lips, strapped the dagger’s sheath to the outside of her arm, then lowered her sleeve and tested a few movements.
It was a bit uncomfortable but tolerable.
Next, Lin Yu pinched the fabric at her thighs, lifting the skirt.
She wore brown leather lace-up boots, her calves gracefully shaped and firm.
She probably looks pretty good, Lin Yu thought out of nowhere.
Unfortunately, there was no mirror in the room, and the only possible window posed an unknown danger.
She’d have to wait until she got out to satisfy her curiosity about “her” appearance.
Shaking off stray thoughts, Lin Yu tucked the revolver into the outside of her right boot, ensuring it was secure, and stood up.
She picked up the candelabra from the table and turned her gaze to the left front, where a tightly shut door stood.
Time to leave, Lin Yu said silently to herself.