“Is this you in the photo?”
Su Mu scrutinized the image, her eyes tracing the serene features of the dark-haired girl.
No matter how she looked at it, the face was unmistakably Tang Nai’s.
Tang Nai’s response was soft, almost indifferent.
“Probably.”
“Probably? What do you mean? Don’t you remember what you used to look like?”
“I don’t.”
Tang Nai’s disinterest in the topic was palpable.
She snatched the camera from Su Mu’s hands, swiftly flipping to a photo of a pink milk dragon, her lips curling into that familiar, playful smile.
“This one’s more interesting.”
Su Mu pouted slightly, letting the matter drop.
“Fine. With your memory, you’ll probably forget this in no time anyway.”
“Yep,” Tang Nai chirped, unfazed.
“So, are you going to try getting some info from Ning Xi now? Her magic’s been suppressed. She’s all yours to deal with.”
Despite her words, Ning Xi’s glare was sharp enough to cut, making Su Mu’s skin prickle with unease.
She’s practically hissing.
So fierce.
But hadn’t Irina left a deep shadow over Ning Xi?
Why did she seem so fearless now?
Diving into the dream of someone brimming with such malice—wouldn’t that be dangerous?
“Don’t worry,” Irina’s voice came, light and reassuring.
“The Ning Xi you’ll see in there is probably trussed up just like this. Plus, I left her a little gift. You’ll be fine.”
Irina’s chuckle was meant to bolster her, and Su Mu felt a flicker of courage.
Meanwhile, Tang Nai produced a peculiar device, something resembling a stethoscope.
“This will keep your mental connection to her stable. Much better than physical contact.”
The other end of the device snaked into the restraints binding Ning Xi, a clear sign of premeditation.
Su Mu channeled a trickle of magic into the device and placed it on her head.
In an instant, Ning Xi’s face froze, then flushed faintly with a hint of crimson.
Why the heck is she blushing?
Where exactly is that thing connected?
The more Su Mu thought about it, the more unsettling it felt.
As if reading her mind, Tang Nai grinned mischievously, reaching around to pinch the soft flesh at Su Mu’s waist.
Su Mu yelped in surprise.
“What was that for?”
“The probe’s hooked up right here,” Tang Nai said, pointing.
“Then just say so! No need to pinch me on purpose!”
But there was no time to dwell on complaints.
A strange connection was already forming through the “stethoscope,” linking Su Mu to Ning Xi.
It felt as though, even without her handheld device, she could slip into Ning Xi’s dream.
“With this, I can share your senses,” Tang Nai explained, donning a similar device.
“It’ll keep you safe. If you get into trouble there, I’ll react instantly.”
Su Mu narrowed her eyes.
“If something does happen, your first reaction better be to pull me out.”
Tang Nai only smiled, silent as ever, nudging Su Mu’s thoughts toward worst-case scenarios.
But that wasn’t what worried her most.
What if Tang Nai sensed Irina’s presence?
What if Irina spoke mid-dream and was overheard?
Irina didn’t respond—a silence that spoke volumes.
Taking a deep breath, Su Mu summoned her handheld device, ready to dive in.
Entrusting her safety to Tang Nai was fine, but sharing senses?
That felt… unsettling.
Her thoughts were interrupted as her body was enveloped by the viscous substance of the dreamworld.
As long as she kept her eyes closed, the world around her remained formless.
Only when perceived would the dream take shape, tangible and real.
This was why peeking mid-dive was a bad idea.
Getting stuck in a wall wasn’t exactly ideal.
‘Depth approaching 100. Preparing to enter into a second-layer dream.’
‘Current submersion level: 11%.’
Last time it was 10%, wasn’t it?
Close enough.
The moment Su Mu opened her eyes, the scene before her stole her breath.
A dojo.
Was this the dojo from Luo Linglan’s memories?
On closer inspection, it was different from the one she’d seen in reality.
The arrangement of objects was chaotic, the space cloaked in an unnatural dimness.
The scene was blurry, almost fragmented, likely tied to the incomplete core within Number 6 Ning Xi.
No sunlight streamed into the room this time, leaving Su Mu’s vision shrouded in a heavy, murky haze.
Frowning, she took a cautious step, only to accidentally kick something light—a can, perhaps.
The sound of an aluminum can rolling across the wooden floor echoed sharply, grating against her ears.
Su Mu froze, heart pounding, fearing she’d alerted someone.
A witch, perhaps.
Thankfully, no “Luo Linglan” appeared.
But the downside?
There was no one to guide her through this murky dream with detailed answers.
She really didn’t want to ask Tang Nai, and Irina couldn’t speak up just yet.
Bending down, Su Mu picked up the can, brushing off the dust to examine its label.
To her surprise, the details were strikingly clear—far too vivid for something from a memory.
Who remembers the ingredient list of a beer can?
‘Production date: See spray paint on bottle neck.’
The light was too dim to read easily, so Su Mu brought the can closer, her fingers tracing the text as she deciphered it.
In the dreamworld, focusing was harder than in reality.
Though she recognized every word, the dense text felt like a cryptic puzzle unless she read it aloud, piece by piece.
“Waterflower Beer? Production date… 2005?”
As her focus locked onto the bottle, images flooded her mind unbidden.
A man—burly, violent, middle-aged—sprawled drunkenly across a straw mat, passed out.
The scene stirred memories of a pink-haired woman, and a heavy weight settled in Su Mu’s chest.
He stirred, knocking over the beer bottle beside him.
The last dregs spilled out, seeping into the floor.
Once it dried, it would leave a sticky mess—a hazard in a dojo where shoes were often shed.
A rustling came from the inner room, followed by the appearance of a girl who looked strikingly like Luo Linglan.
Her pale skin gleamed faintly under the icy blue moonlight, a stark contrast to the dim dojo.
But her dark eyes were even dimmer than the unlit corners, hollow and cold.
She wasn’t yet the tall, striking figure Su Mu had first met, nor did she bear the orchid-shaped scar at the corner of her eye.
Without that defining mark, the oppressive aura that clung to her was gone, leaving only a quiet, chilling presence.
It was hard to imagine this girl as a witch of desire.
Yet, somehow, she was.
What had happened to bring about such a transformation?
Su Mu’s curiosity burned brighter with every passing moment.