But even knowing that conclusion now
didn't tell her what to do next...
It was like an open-ended question: you were given a broad range of possible answers and told to follow the example.
Zheng Wuyou turned her gaze into the distance. The only lifeless thing in her field of vision was a colorless flower, its lack of color making it stand out against the grass. It was fixed in place, as if made of plaster.
At the same time, she spotted a wide black mark in the distance.
It had been left behind by a cylinder rolling across the ground.
"The key to the previous scene was the honey and the oil paintbrush. This scene probably won't have anything too far removed from that. There has to be some connection between the honey and the paintbrush. If we find it, we might find the key to clearing this place!"
Zheng Wuyou raised a hand to shade her forehead, blocking some of the glaring sunlight.
For some reason, she felt as if the sun overhead was gradually growing brighter.
"When I was little... I liked asking my mom to... buy me watercolor pens, because I didn't like... my drawings without splashes of color." Yuan Ling slowly pushed herself up, wincing in pain. The intense light beyond the shadow made her squint.
Her breathing made her abdomen hurt, so she had to speak in three short bursts.
The pain in her abdomen had eased a little with time. Thankfully, her blood was still clotting normally in here.
When it came to the oil paintbrush and the honey, the only thing Yuan Ling could think of was how happy she'd been as a child when her parents came home with art supplies for her.
"Right. Even those crooked, haphazard lines in there