SES Chapter 194 Part 1

Chapter 194

Mu Dai slept for a long, long time.

She didn’t dream. Her sleep was heavy, like a stone sinking—once she closed her eyes, it was as if she had died. When she finally opened them, it felt like a newborn’s first moment of awareness.

For a brief instant, she remembered nothing. Only that something was weighing on her heart so heavily that she could barely breathe.

What was it?

She turned her head. This was her room—antique and elegant. The headboard was carved with bat motifs, auspicious patterns, and in one corner, a cheerful little monkey riding a proud, high-stepping horse.

May you rise swiftly to nobility.

She remembered.

Everything came rushing back.

She jolted upright, scrambling to pull on her clothes. Just then, someone pushed the door open—it was Huo Zihong, drawn by the noise.

“How long did I sleep?” Mu Dai asked.

“Two days.”

“Where’s Luo Xiaodao?”

She was already rushing into the bathroom, turning on the faucet with a loud splash and filling a cup.

“He’s still in the hospital. Don’t worry—someone’s been taking turns staying with him every day.”

She brushed her teeth at lightning speed, foam splattering onto the mirror, then splashed cold water on her face. The icy stream ran down her collar and straight into her chest.

“I’m going to see Luo Xiaodao.”

She didn’t even wipe the water from her face. She ran downstairs, thudding step by step. Cao Yanhua was squatting in the courtyard, feeding millet to Cao Jiefang. Seeing her, he hurriedly stood up.

“Hey, little master, there’s something—”

Mu Dai didn’t even look at him. She swept past like a gust of wind.

Cao Yanhua stood there dumbly, millet still clutched in his hand. Cao Jiefang craned its neck desperately, hopping in place, clearly demanding food.

Wan Sanshi came out too, leaning against the doorframe with a roasted corn cob in hand. He took a bite for himself, then casually tossed a couple of kernels to Cao Jiefang.

He said to Cao Yanhua, “Don’t tell her now. She’s in no mood to listen.”

“But the murderous slip—”

“Not now. She just woke up.”

That was true. Cao Yanhua fell silent. After a while, he looked up again at Wan Sanshi.

“Brother San… this murderous slip this time—why does it feel so… eerie?”

Wan Sanshi frowned and didn’t answer.

That day, amid all the chaos, he, Cao Yanhua, and the shaman had found a moment to deliver the sixth murderous slip to the secretly stored fish tank.

They opened the cabinet, pushed aside the panel, and entered the cramped, sealed space where even standing felt uncomfortable. The shaman beamed with delight.

“I love places like this—super hidden and creepy.”

The sixth murderous slip, together with a plastic bag of icy river water, was poured into the tank.

Slowly, the sixth slip unfurled in the water. The blood-red phoenix and the luan bird stretched out once more. This time, the phoenix head, the fenghuang head, and the luan head were all clearly visible.

But there were no inscriptions on the sixth slip.

Not only that—the inscriptions on the other five slips slowly disappeared right before their eyes.

Six blank bamboo slips floated in the water, gradually drawing together, like a perfectly ordinary rolled manuscript.

Cao Yanhua stammered, “Th-this… what’s going on?”

Wan Sanshi swallowed. “Forget it. Let’s just watch the water reflections.”

The shaman, who had heard them describe the water visions before and had been itching with envy, asked eagerly, “Do you think I can see it too?”

When neither of them objected, he cautiously extended a finger along the tank wall until it barely touched the water’s surface.

Honestly, his fingertip probably wasn’t even fully wet when the entire tank suddenly boiled. The murderous slips shook violently, and the phoenix-luan heads abruptly turned toward the shaman, revealing furious expressions.

The shaman yelped and jerked his hand back.

See? Outsiders couldn’t do it. If you weren’t part of their little Phoenix Squad, you simply didn’t have the ability.

A flicker of smugness rose in Cao Yanhua’s heart. He said to Wan Sanshi, “Brother San, let’s do it.”

Just like last time, the world suddenly spun—sun and moon shifting, wind and clouds changing. When they came back to themselves, the surroundings were deeply strange.

Perhaps because Luo Ren, Mu Dai, and Yan Hongsha were missing, the all-encompassing, 360-degree “puzzle” felt fragmented. Figures were blurry, sounds chaotic.

They vaguely sensed a bustling marketplace. Someone was banging a bronze gong, shouting something like, “Come see, come see! Don’t miss it! Those with money throw money! Those without, lend some applause!”

Crowds surged forward—men and women, young and old. From their clothing—long robes, jackets, half-shaved heads with long braids—it looked like the mid-to-late Qing dynasty, just like the last vision.

It seemed to be a street performance. Though the view was unclear, Wan Sanshi could make out people wielding broadswords, climbing knife ladders barefoot, smashing stones on their chests.

Then suddenly, thunderous applause erupted.

From experience, this meant the finale was about to begin.

What was it? Wan Sanshi stood on tiptoe, craning his neck.

Through a gap in the crowd, he saw the performer lead out a dog.

After that, nothing more could be seen—only the deafening cheers, crashing like waves, one crest higher than the next.

Mu Dai hurried along. The hospital elevator was too slow, so she took the stairs instead. The stairwell was empty, her footsteps echoing loudly as she ran.

She dashed toward the ICU at the end of the corridor.

Several people were standing outside—Aoki, Uncle Zheng, and Pingtian.

She had no intention of greeting anyone, but as she drew close, Uncle Zheng stepped forward hesitantly and stopped her.

“Mu Dai…”

She had no choice but to pause.

“That day, things were chaotic here, and we didn’t fully understand what was going on. Pingtian acted too impulsively. I talked to her afterward.” He turned to Pingtian. “Pingtian, come apologize to Mu Dai.”

Mu Dai said flatly, “It’s nothing. Not important.”

She went around Uncle Zheng without looking at Pingtian, pushed open the door, and went inside. Visiting hours weren’t open yet, so she couldn’t enter the inner room. She walked to the observation window, pressed her forehead against the glass, and looked at Luo Ren lying peacefully in bed.

The heart that had been boiling since she woke up finally began to calm.

Luo Xiaodao was sleeping so soundly.

She thought of so many things—the first time they met, going to the Xiaoshang River, regrouping in Wuzhu Village. He always took on the most responsibility, arranging this and that. At night, what he said most often was, “You sleep first. I’ll take watch.”

He had taken care of them for so long. This time, it was his turn to be taken care of.

Luo Xiaodao—if you’re tired, sleep a little longer. But remember, you have to wake up.

She breathed onto the glass and wrote words with her finger, what she wanted to say to him. The characters overlapped until even she couldn’t tell what she had written.

Aoki walked over and stood beside her.

“It’s thanks to Mr. Zheng and his friends,” he said.

Mr. Zheng? Mu Dai paused before realizing he meant Senior Brother Zheng Mingshan.