Strange and Treacherous

Shen Hui heard this and slowly opened his eyes.

He turned his head toward the tightly wrapped bundle of blankets on the bed.

Half of the little girl's face was buried in the pillow, while her eyes shone with unusual brightness in the dimness.

"When did you notice?" he asked.

"From the moment I entered, of course."

Lu Huan blinked, her tone utterly casual:

"Those women didn't blink once. I just tried it myself, but I couldn't hold out for more than a moment."

As she spoke, she rubbed her eyes.

Shen Hui was silent for a moment before sighing and getting to his feet.

He said nothing more, merely flicking his sleeve.

Before Lu Huan could say another word, darkness swam before her eyes, and she, along with the little lamb, was drawn into his sleeve.

He pushed open the door and walked into the courtyard.

The night was deep in the courtyard, and the corridor beneath the eaves was pitch-black.

Cloud-Water Hall was unnaturally quiet. Not even the chirping of autumn insects could be heard.

A faint, dusky glow still seeped through the paper window of the room next door.

Shen Hui walked up to the door and rapped twice with a bent finger.

There was a brief silence inside, followed by Mo Yunsong's wary voice:

"Who is it?"

"It is I," Shen Hui replied.

Another rustle came from within, and the door creaked open a crack.

Mo Yunsong gripped a woodcutter's ax. Firelight gleamed off its blade, flashing with a cold glint.

When he saw Shen Hui standing outside, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but he did not lower his guard completely.

He pushed the crack wider, yanked Shen Hui inside, then quickly shut the door and dropped the bar.

"Daoist, I thought it was