Chapter 40: He didn’t want to casually flip past the page of An Wujiu, so he paused.
Shen Ti’s perception and experience of the world have always been vague and rapid. Everything appears to him as a massive amount of data, pouring into his brain through some channel, rapidly absorbed and mastered without the need for much attention or analysis.
Therefore, most of the time, he was merely observing, and it was just limited to observation.
Every person encountered in life was like a simple sample, a journey of learning, flipping through the book of life, leaving behind what was learned, and letting go of the insignificant meanings.
After smoothly flipping through this book of the world until now, Shen Ti experienced a glitch for the first time.
He got stuck on a page with an illustration named An Wujiu.
This beautiful and complex illustration seemed to be inserted out of nowhere. It unexpectedly appeared in scenes where everything could have been anticipated, disrupting Shen Ti’s rhythm. In response, his level of observation far exceeded the perfunctory treatment of a sample; it involuntarily attempted to delve deeper and deeper.
A desire sprouted from then on—a desire to understand, to grasp, to establish a connection. Shen Ti temporarily defined it as a thirst for knowledge.
He didn’t want to casually flip past the page of An Wujiu, so he paused.
After entering the new room, Wu You’s first reaction was to look up at the ceiling. The dome here was somewhat similar to the one in the underground bunker, adorned with murals that exuded a strong religious aura. The murals, dominated by gold and white tones, depicted a pope and a congregation, but in the center was a black oval with sharp ends.
After staring for a while, a strange feeling gradually emerged, as if seeing an unfathomable eye, an endless black hole.
“Thank you.”
Uncontrolled and elusive thoughts were interrupted by a word of thanks. Wu You came back to his senses, turned his head, and saw Nan Shan thanking him with a bow.
“I did faint, as expected. If it weren’t for you, it might be in trouble by now.”
Just as the two were about to make eye contact, Wu You turned his head.
“It was Wujiu-ge who saved you.”
“I… just gave you an injection.”
Nan Shan smiled and, while thanking him again, corrected the content, “Thanks for giving me the injection. Otherwise, I might not have woken up.”
After saying that, he turned around again, cupped his hand, bowed to An Wujiu, and said thanks.
Seeing Nan Shan express gratitude, An Wujiu wanted to wave it off but felt his wrist being restrained. He then remembered that his hand was still tightly held by Shen Ti. He lifted his hand, trying to break free from Shen Ti’s grip.
But Nan Shan extended a hand of peace, pressing down the connected hands of Shen Ti and An Wujiu. “I understand, I understand…”
What do you understand? An Wujiu was very puzzled.
But he was still somewhat concerned about Shen Ti’s physical condition, so he asked again, “Are you okay?”
Shen Ti seemed to be distracted but came back to his senses because of this question. His green eyes glanced at him.
“I’m fine.”
Realizing it a bit belatedly, Shen Ti released An Wujiu’s hand. However, it wasn’t an immediate release; his fingers loosened, he paused for half a second, and eventually let go.
An Wujiu could finally focus on this circus.
Completely isolated from the outside, the space was larger and more spacious than imagined. A mysterious, thin fog pervaded the room, giving it a damp and musty smell.
The four walls were covered with various animals from the circus: monkeys wearing red square hats, elephants wearing vests, tigers with hoops, and fluffy white rabbits in black top hats. However, due to the passage of time, these once vibrant paintings had lost most of their colors. Everything became old, yellowed, and murky, as if from another era.
Despite this, the former glory of this circus theater was still discernible.
Josh picked up the box and cards An Wujiu had thrown earlier. He noticed that these cards were mostly addressed to A02, with a few written to D03, which was himself.
“Is this what you found in that room?” He handed them to An Wujiu to look at.
The cards were written in children’s handwriting and were cute and crooked. Many were addressed to A02, thanking him for the small cakes and gifts and hoping he would visit them on this floor more often.
Some cards talked about the pain of being sick and wanting to watch cartoons during intravenous infusions. Others hoped A02 would tell them more stories.
It was evident from these cards that these children really liked A02.
“This one is so cute,” Josh read aloud. “A02 brother, can you not bring A01 next time you come? He’s too scary. I don’t like him; I only like you.”
Zhong Yirou, still weak, chuckled softly. “This feels… a lot like what Wu You would write when he was little.”
Wu You didn’t acknowledge it, pressing his hat down a bit, out of sight, out of mind.
The previous recordings, audio files, and these cards seemed to gradually depict the people working here, especially A02. Even though it was only the second floor, there was already so much information about him.
An Wujiu thought that if they wanted to find a way out of here, A02’s story might be a crucial opportunity.
The milky fog extended to the stage on the far right, constructed of mahogany. The already sizable stage appeared even more desolate without any props. Behind the stage was a dark red velvet curtain, like a tranquil pool of blood under a gentle breeze, with layers of ripples frozen in place.
“I thought there would be a circus performance here…” Josh looked around, the circus theater echoing with emptiness, “But there’s nothing.”
Initially, they had spread out to inspect, but an inexplicable and eerie feeling circled this empty theater like vultures. The diminishing sense of safety involuntarily brought them back together.
Wu You’s mind was a bit chaotic at the moment. His eyes kept glancing at Nan Shan. Nan Shan, after being injected with the antidote, was now awake and able to stand like the rest, but his lips were terrifyingly pale.
“I have something to say.” Wu You opened his mouth, his voice echoing eerily in the silent theater, grabbing everyone’s attention. Wu You walked up to Nan Shan, and without saying anything, he reached out and pulled aside the collar that Nan Shan had raised. At first, Nan Shan felt strange, so he instinctively raised his hand to ask what was wrong.
But he quickly noticed the change in Zhong Yirou’s expression, which became extremely unpleasant.
Wu You was very close to him. He raised his eyes to meet his, then stepped aside to address everyone. “I just discovered it while administering first aid. The mark on his neck is almost identical to the one on Zhong Yirou’s.”
At this moment, many things have an explanation. Nan Shan finally understood why he often felt an inexplicable sense of suffocation, and he couldn’t regulate it even with deep breaths.
An Wujiu approached, staring at the scar on Nan Shan’s neck. The strangulation mark had turned purple, with a width almost identical to the one on Zhong Yirou’s neck, half a finger’s width, with patterns left by weaving.
“This shouldn’t be possible,” Josh puzzled. “We saw Zhong Yirou being strangled by the fake An Wujiu, and we saved her at that time. But Nan Shan was never strangled by anyone, so how could there be a mark? Could it be…”
He voiced a terrifying speculation, “Could this mark be contagious? Like an infectious disease?”
“If it’s really contagious, it should spread to us, but it’s Nan Shan. Given the current situation, it seems to be starting layer by layer. They both are from the E level, so similar things are happening.” Yang Erci remained calm with one arm around Zhong Yirou’s shoulder, supporting her. “The Holy Altar certainly doesn’t want a family-friendly ending. This game is structured as a layered challenge mechanism. Perhaps this is to prevent everyone from easily reaching the top floor and finding the exit.”
Josh’s focus was on ‘starting layer by layer,’ feeling uneasy. “Does that mean I’m next?”
An Wujiu continued, “It’s just speculation, and the origin of the strangulation marks is still uncertain. Everyone can surely endure together until the last floor. Don’t panic, or you’ll defeat yourself.”
His tone was very firm, as calm and decisive as when he built a long ladder over the lava at a critical moment. It made Josh feel a little more at ease.
In fact, An Wujiu felt that the identical wounds on Nan Shan’s and Zhong Yirou’s necks were not as simple as an obstacle mechanism. When they reunited on the first floor, An Wujiu heard Zhong Yirou mention being strangked by a wipe around the neck by the fake him.
It seemed that both Nan Shan and Zhong Yirou’s neck injuries were caused by that whip.
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the theater, lifting the thin fog into the air. In the momentary blur of vision, all the lights went out. Darkness covered everything like towering waves.
The next second, a cold white overhead light descended, like a sharp blade piercing through the darkness. After the overhead light, a few small lights illuminated the ceiling above the stage, resembling sparse stars in the night sky.
“Take a seat, everyone.”
A high-pitched voice emerged with a strange fairy-tale tone: “Quick, sit down, sit down!” But only the voice was heard, and the person was nowhere to be seen.
Everyone looked around for the speaker, and as they turned back, they discovered that the previously empty space behind them now had six neatly arranged mahogany chairs.
The chairs had red projections hovering over them, indicating their names. Each person had their own designated chair.
Except for An Wujiu.
“If you don’t sit down soon, the performance won’t be able to start!”
“Sit down.” Yang Erci sat down first and said, “It seems like a new game is starting.”
The others also took their seats one by one, except for An Wujiu, who had no chair and could only stand on the side. He looked at the others, his gaze pausing on Shen Ti for a moment. Unexpectedly, Shen Ti also happened to raise his eyes to meet his. The two stared at each other for a few seconds.
Then, Shen Ti patted his legs in An Wujiu’s direction.
An Wujiu was momentarily stunned, then turned his head away.
There must be something wrong with this guy.
This gesture was something Shen Ti had quickly searched for in a memory—a mother sitting on the steps, patting her legs. The child happily went over and sat in the mother’s lap.
But this effect, in practice, seemed… not very feasible.
Everyone took their seats according to their names. The mysterious voice did not immediately appear. Wu You found it strange: “Why doesn’t Wujiu-ge have a seat?”
Could there be some danger?
An Wujiu remained calm and didn’t think too much about his special situation. He turned his face to reassure Wu You, but suddenly noticed that everyone’s chairs were not right.
Each chair was bleeding along the legs, and by now, fresh blood had already pooled on the floor.
“Why are you all bleeding?”
Upon hearing his question, everyone looked down at themselves. They didn’t feel any pain, but it seemed like there was a hole in their stomachs, and fresh blood kept oozing out.
Nan Shan examined the blood on his hands and felt something was off.
“It seems like an illusion,” he said.
Despite this, the taste of real blood sweetness spread in the moist mist. In the darkness, it felt as if countless eyes were staring at them, and that indescribably eerie feeling began to erode their bodies.
“Thank you all for coming to the theater! I am your Mr. Rabbit!”
Upon hearing the voice, everyone raised their heads, and a rabbit with a black top hat suddenly appeared in the center of the stage, bowing politely to them.
“Now that everyone is here, let’s begin.”
He straightened up, raised both arms, and clapped his furry hands. Suddenly, a white peony appeared in his hand. Mr. Rabbit smiled, tossing the peony flower from his left hand to his right, and the single peony turned into two.
He giggled, twirled around, and the peonies transformed into a whole bunch, almost too much to hold.
“There are so many flowers; I need to find a way to use them.” Mr. Rabbit held the bouquet and danced around the stage, his eyes like two sparkling rubies. Finally, he threw the bouquet into the sky.
The pure white peonies turned into a dense shower of petals, like a blurry rain of flowers. After all the petals floated down, two golden birdcages appeared in the center of the stage out of thin air.
“It turned into cages, huh!” Mr. Rabbit hopped forward, opened the door of one cage, and jumped inside. “Just enough to fit me in!”
An Wujiu, standing aside, looked at the others and found that the blood had disappeared in an instant. Everyone remained silent, almost as if they were captivated, watching the rabbit’s performance on stage with intense focus. It seemed like an inexplicable force had drawn everyone’s attention to the stage, making it impossible to escape.
Except for Shen Ti, who still had the same indifferent expression as before. He yawned, sat in the chair, and stretched, finally slumping on the back of the chair.
The rabbit came out of the cage. “Now I need to separate them. Yes, separate them both.” After saying this, he hopped over to the center of the stage, looked left and right to confirm the positions of the two birdcages, and then looked down.
“Now I need a volunteer; yes, this magic requires one more person. Who would like to come up and experience it?”
No one spoke, but the rabbit’s crimson eyes locked onto An Wujiu, the smile on its face carrying a strange aura.
“Then let’s invite the gentleman who caught the flowers to come up.”
An Wujiu was a bit stunned, suddenly feeling something. He raised his hand, and a peony appeared on his right ear.
“Don’t go up.” Shen Ti, who had just been dozing off, was now fully awake and spoke up.
“Oh, if no one is coming up…” The rabbit’s lip curled, as if always smiling, “then I’ll have to use some impolite means to select someone from below to come up. This could be very dangerous.”
Upon hearing this, An Wujiu still walked toward the stage.
“Someone has to do the task.”
Shen Ti knew that this statement was meant for him.
He tried to get up to replace An Wujiu, but found himself unable to stand or speak. It seemed like his body was fixed to the chair.
An Wujiu eventually went up on the stage. The rabbit hopped to his side, and a tremendous sense of oppression enveloped him.
“I assure you, this performance will bring the greatest joy to your friends; trust me!” The rabbit extended a furry hand, pointing in a direction for An Wujiu.
“Now, please enter the birdcage on the left.”
An Wujiu complied, walking over and inspecting the cage’s structure. Similar to the warm-up match with the caged bird earlier, it was finely crafted, making it difficult to escape.
He entered the cage, and the rabbit followed, closing the cage door and locking it with a large padlock.
Next, the rabbit hopped to the other end of the stage, locking the empty birdcage on that side as well.
Mr. Rabbit returned to the center of the stage, spreading his arms while two black velvet cloths descended from above, covering the two birdcages perfectly with no deviation.
“Now, everyone, don’t blink. I will make you witness the most exciting instant teleportation!”
Teleportation?
In the darkness of the cage, An Wujiu reached out, unable to see anything, only hearing the voice of the rabbit.
“Countdown! Three—”
Down below, Shen Ti also felt something was very wrong. He struggled with all his might, but couldn’t manage to get up from the chair.
“Two—”
“An…” He struggled to speak, only producing incoherent single syllables.
But An Wujiu heard it. He wanted to respond but in that instant—
“One!”
The black velvet cloth covering the left cage was lifted.
Inside, there was nothing, just a lonely, snow-white peony falling in the empty cage.
The rabbit chuckled, picked up the peony, and tossed it toward the audience. The flower followed a parabolic trajectory, landing on Shen Ti’s lap.
Looking up, Mr. Rabbit had already moved to the right side of the stage. He grabbed the black velvet cloth and gave it a strong tug.
“This is the miracle of instant teleportation!”
An Wujiu, who was just in the left cage, had been magically transported to the right cage across the entire length of the stage.
“Surprised? Excited?” The rabbit bounced around the stage.
The door was opened, and An Wujiu walked out, his face showing a calm demeanor.
“Thank you for your cooperation, handsome sir. You can now leave the stage and embrace your friends.”
An Wujiu descended from the stage and approached Shen Ti with a faint smile on his face.
Seeing him safely reappear, Shen Ti’s heart gradually eased. However, perhaps due to the strange atmosphere of the place, an indescribable emotion surged within him, and his brows unconsciously furrowed.
In front of the stage, the magical transmission between the two golden cages was spectacular. Behind the stage, a large red velvet curtain concealed a massive apparatus resembling an eternal glass case.
At the top of the sealed glass device, a water pipe continuously poured water inside. It gradually rose, surpassing the ankle-locking chain, covering the feet and knees, and rising toward the waist.
An unconscious An Wujiu was immersed in the water, and the hem of his white shirt was floating and swaying.
Like a delicate and beautiful white peony.
Chapter 40: He didn’t want to casually flip past the page of An Wujiu, so he paused.
Shen Ti’s perception and experience of the world have always been vague and rapid. Everything appears to him as a massive amount of data, pouring into his brain through some channel, rapidly absorbed and mastered without the need for much attention or analysis.
Therefore, most of the time, he was merely observing, and it was just limited to observation.
Every person encountered in life was like a simple sample, a journey of learning, flipping through the book of life, leaving behind what was learned, and letting go of the insignificant meanings.
After smoothly flipping through this book of the world until now, Shen Ti experienced a glitch for the first time.
He got stuck on a page with an illustration named An Wujiu.
This beautiful and complex illustration seemed to be inserted out of nowhere. It unexpectedly appeared in scenes where everything could have been anticipated, disrupting Shen Ti’s rhythm. In response, his level of observation far exceeded the perfunctory treatment of a sample; it involuntarily attempted to delve deeper and deeper.
A desire sprouted from then on—a desire to understand, to grasp, to establish a connection. Shen Ti temporarily defined it as a thirst for knowledge.
He didn’t want to casually flip past the page of An Wujiu, so he paused.
After entering the new room, Wu You’s first reaction was to look up at the ceiling. The dome here was somewhat similar to the one in the underground bunker, adorned with murals that exuded a strong religious aura. The murals, dominated by gold and white tones, depicted a pope and a congregation, but in the center was a black oval with sharp ends.
After staring for a while, a strange feeling gradually emerged, as if seeing an unfathomable eye, an endless black hole.
“Thank you.”
Uncontrolled and elusive thoughts were interrupted by a word of thanks. Wu You came back to his senses, turned his head, and saw Nan Shan thanking him with a bow.
“I did faint, as expected. If it weren’t for you, it might be in trouble by now.”
Just as the two were about to make eye contact, Wu You turned his head.
“It was Wujiu-ge who saved you.”
“I… just gave you an injection.”
Nan Shan smiled and, while thanking him again, corrected the content, “Thanks for giving me the injection. Otherwise, I might not have woken up.”
After saying that, he turned around again, cupped his hand, bowed to An Wujiu, and said thanks.
Seeing Nan Shan express gratitude, An Wujiu wanted to wave it off but felt his wrist being restrained. He then remembered that his hand was still tightly held by Shen Ti. He lifted his hand, trying to break free from Shen Ti’s grip.
But Nan Shan extended a hand of peace, pressing down the connected hands of Shen Ti and An Wujiu. “I understand, I understand…”
What do you understand? An Wujiu was very puzzled.
But he was still somewhat concerned about Shen Ti’s physical condition, so he asked again, “Are you okay?”
Shen Ti seemed to be distracted but came back to his senses because of this question. His green eyes glanced at him.
“I’m fine.”
Realizing it a bit belatedly, Shen Ti released An Wujiu’s hand. However, it wasn’t an immediate release; his fingers loosened, he paused for half a second, and eventually let go.
An Wujiu could finally focus on this circus.
Completely isolated from the outside, the space was larger and more spacious than imagined. A mysterious, thin fog pervaded the room, giving it a damp and musty smell.
The four walls were covered with various animals from the circus: monkeys wearing red square hats, elephants wearing vests, tigers with hoops, and fluffy white rabbits in black top hats. However, due to the passage of time, these once vibrant paintings had lost most of their colors. Everything became old, yellowed, and murky, as if from another era.
Despite this, the former glory of this circus theater was still discernible.
Josh picked up the box and cards An Wujiu had thrown earlier. He noticed that these cards were mostly addressed to A02, with a few written to D03, which was himself.
“Is this what you found in that room?” He handed them to An Wujiu to look at.
The cards were written in children’s handwriting and were cute and crooked. Many were addressed to A02, thanking him for the small cakes and gifts and hoping he would visit them on this floor more often.
Some cards talked about the pain of being sick and wanting to watch cartoons during intravenous infusions. Others hoped A02 would tell them more stories.
It was evident from these cards that these children really liked A02.
“This one is so cute,” Josh read aloud. “A02 brother, can you not bring A01 next time you come? He’s too scary. I don’t like him; I only like you.”
Zhong Yirou, still weak, chuckled softly. “This feels… a lot like what Wu You would write when he was little.”
Wu You didn’t acknowledge it, pressing his hat down a bit, out of sight, out of mind.
The previous recordings, audio files, and these cards seemed to gradually depict the people working here, especially A02. Even though it was only the second floor, there was already so much information about him.
An Wujiu thought that if they wanted to find a way out of here, A02’s story might be a crucial opportunity.
The milky fog extended to the stage on the far right, constructed of mahogany. The already sizable stage appeared even more desolate without any props. Behind the stage was a dark red velvet curtain, like a tranquil pool of blood under a gentle breeze, with layers of ripples frozen in place.
“I thought there would be a circus performance here…” Josh looked around, the circus theater echoing with emptiness, “But there’s nothing.”
Initially, they had spread out to inspect, but an inexplicable and eerie feeling circled this empty theater like vultures. The diminishing sense of safety involuntarily brought them back together.
Wu You’s mind was a bit chaotic at the moment. His eyes kept glancing at Nan Shan. Nan Shan, after being injected with the antidote, was now awake and able to stand like the rest, but his lips were terrifyingly pale.
“I have something to say.” Wu You opened his mouth, his voice echoing eerily in the silent theater, grabbing everyone’s attention. Wu You walked up to Nan Shan, and without saying anything, he reached out and pulled aside the collar that Nan Shan had raised. At first, Nan Shan felt strange, so he instinctively raised his hand to ask what was wrong.
But he quickly noticed the change in Zhong Yirou’s expression, which became extremely unpleasant.
Wu You was very close to him. He raised his eyes to meet his, then stepped aside to address everyone. “I just discovered it while administering first aid. The mark on his neck is almost identical to the one on Zhong Yirou’s.”
At this moment, many things have an explanation. Nan Shan finally understood why he often felt an inexplicable sense of suffocation, and he couldn’t regulate it even with deep breaths.
An Wujiu approached, staring at the scar on Nan Shan’s neck. The strangulation mark had turned purple, with a width almost identical to the one on Zhong Yirou’s neck, half a finger’s width, with patterns left by weaving.
“This shouldn’t be possible,” Josh puzzled. “We saw Zhong Yirou being strangled by the fake An Wujiu, and we saved her at that time. But Nan Shan was never strangled by anyone, so how could there be a mark? Could it be…”
He voiced a terrifying speculation, “Could this mark be contagious? Like an infectious disease?”
“If it’s really contagious, it should spread to us, but it’s Nan Shan. Given the current situation, it seems to be starting layer by layer. They both are from the E level, so similar things are happening.” Yang Erci remained calm with one arm around Zhong Yirou’s shoulder, supporting her. “The Holy Altar certainly doesn’t want a family-friendly ending. This game is structured as a layered challenge mechanism. Perhaps this is to prevent everyone from easily reaching the top floor and finding the exit.”
Josh’s focus was on ‘starting layer by layer,’ feeling uneasy. “Does that mean I’m next?”
An Wujiu continued, “It’s just speculation, and the origin of the strangulation marks is still uncertain. Everyone can surely endure together until the last floor. Don’t panic, or you’ll defeat yourself.”
His tone was very firm, as calm and decisive as when he built a long ladder over the lava at a critical moment. It made Josh feel a little more at ease.
In fact, An Wujiu felt that the identical wounds on Nan Shan’s and Zhong Yirou’s necks were not as simple as an obstacle mechanism. When they reunited on the first floor, An Wujiu heard Zhong Yirou mention being strangked by a wipe around the neck by the fake him.
It seemed that both Nan Shan and Zhong Yirou’s neck injuries were caused by that whip.
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the theater, lifting the thin fog into the air. In the momentary blur of vision, all the lights went out. Darkness covered everything like towering waves.
The next second, a cold white overhead light descended, like a sharp blade piercing through the darkness. After the overhead light, a few small lights illuminated the ceiling above the stage, resembling sparse stars in the night sky.
“Take a seat, everyone.”
A high-pitched voice emerged with a strange fairy-tale tone: “Quick, sit down, sit down!” But only the voice was heard, and the person was nowhere to be seen.
Everyone looked around for the speaker, and as they turned back, they discovered that the previously empty space behind them now had six neatly arranged mahogany chairs.
The chairs had red projections hovering over them, indicating their names. Each person had their own designated chair.
Except for An Wujiu.
“If you don’t sit down soon, the performance won’t be able to start!”
“Sit down.” Yang Erci sat down first and said, “It seems like a new game is starting.”
The others also took their seats one by one, except for An Wujiu, who had no chair and could only stand on the side. He looked at the others, his gaze pausing on Shen Ti for a moment. Unexpectedly, Shen Ti also happened to raise his eyes to meet his. The two stared at each other for a few seconds.
Then, Shen Ti patted his legs in An Wujiu’s direction.
An Wujiu was momentarily stunned, then turned his head away.
There must be something wrong with this guy.
This gesture was something Shen Ti had quickly searched for in a memory—a mother sitting on the steps, patting her legs. The child happily went over and sat in the mother’s lap.
But this effect, in practice, seemed… not very feasible.
Everyone took their seats according to their names. The mysterious voice did not immediately appear. Wu You found it strange: “Why doesn’t Wujiu-ge have a seat?”
Could there be some danger?
An Wujiu remained calm and didn’t think too much about his special situation. He turned his face to reassure Wu You, but suddenly noticed that everyone’s chairs were not right.
Each chair was bleeding along the legs, and by now, fresh blood had already pooled on the floor.
“Why are you all bleeding?”
Upon hearing his question, everyone looked down at themselves. They didn’t feel any pain, but it seemed like there was a hole in their stomachs, and fresh blood kept oozing out.
Nan Shan examined the blood on his hands and felt something was off.
“It seems like an illusion,” he said.
Despite this, the taste of real blood sweetness spread in the moist mist. In the darkness, it felt as if countless eyes were staring at them, and that indescribably eerie feeling began to erode their bodies.
“Thank you all for coming to the theater! I am your Mr. Rabbit!”
Upon hearing the voice, everyone raised their heads, and a rabbit with a black top hat suddenly appeared in the center of the stage, bowing politely to them.
“Now that everyone is here, let’s begin.”
He straightened up, raised both arms, and clapped his furry hands. Suddenly, a white peony appeared in his hand. Mr. Rabbit smiled, tossing the peony flower from his left hand to his right, and the single peony turned into two.
He giggled, twirled around, and the peonies transformed into a whole bunch, almost too much to hold.
“There are so many flowers; I need to find a way to use them.” Mr. Rabbit held the bouquet and danced around the stage, his eyes like two sparkling rubies. Finally, he threw the bouquet into the sky.
The pure white peonies turned into a dense shower of petals, like a blurry rain of flowers. After all the petals floated down, two golden birdcages appeared in the center of the stage out of thin air.
“It turned into cages, huh!” Mr. Rabbit hopped forward, opened the door of one cage, and jumped inside. “Just enough to fit me in!”
An Wujiu, standing aside, looked at the others and found that the blood had disappeared in an instant. Everyone remained silent, almost as if they were captivated, watching the rabbit’s performance on stage with intense focus. It seemed like an inexplicable force had drawn everyone’s attention to the stage, making it impossible to escape.
Except for Shen Ti, who still had the same indifferent expression as before. He yawned, sat in the chair, and stretched, finally slumping on the back of the chair.
The rabbit came out of the cage. “Now I need to separate them. Yes, separate them both.” After saying this, he hopped over to the center of the stage, looked left and right to confirm the positions of the two birdcages, and then looked down.
“Now I need a volunteer; yes, this magic requires one more person. Who would like to come up and experience it?”
No one spoke, but the rabbit’s crimson eyes locked onto An Wujiu, the smile on its face carrying a strange aura.
“Then let’s invite the gentleman who caught the flowers to come up.”
An Wujiu was a bit stunned, suddenly feeling something. He raised his hand, and a peony appeared on his right ear.
“Don’t go up.” Shen Ti, who had just been dozing off, was now fully awake and spoke up.
“Oh, if no one is coming up…” The rabbit’s lip curled, as if always smiling, “then I’ll have to use some impolite means to select someone from below to come up. This could be very dangerous.”
Upon hearing this, An Wujiu still walked toward the stage.
“Someone has to do the task.”
Shen Ti knew that this statement was meant for him.
He tried to get up to replace An Wujiu, but found himself unable to stand or speak. It seemed like his body was fixed to the chair.
An Wujiu eventually went up on the stage. The rabbit hopped to his side, and a tremendous sense of oppression enveloped him.
“I assure you, this performance will bring the greatest joy to your friends; trust me!” The rabbit extended a furry hand, pointing in a direction for An Wujiu.
“Now, please enter the birdcage on the left.”
An Wujiu complied, walking over and inspecting the cage’s structure. Similar to the warm-up match with the caged bird earlier, it was finely crafted, making it difficult to escape.
He entered the cage, and the rabbit followed, closing the cage door and locking it with a large padlock.
Next, the rabbit hopped to the other end of the stage, locking the empty birdcage on that side as well.
Mr. Rabbit returned to the center of the stage, spreading his arms while two black velvet cloths descended from above, covering the two birdcages perfectly with no deviation.
“Now, everyone, don’t blink. I will make you witness the most exciting instant teleportation!”
Teleportation?
In the darkness of the cage, An Wujiu reached out, unable to see anything, only hearing the voice of the rabbit.
“Countdown! Three—”
Down below, Shen Ti also felt something was very wrong. He struggled with all his might, but couldn’t manage to get up from the chair.
“Two—”
“An…” He struggled to speak, only producing incoherent single syllables.
But An Wujiu heard it. He wanted to respond but in that instant—
“One!”
The black velvet cloth covering the left cage was lifted.
Inside, there was nothing, just a lonely, snow-white peony falling in the empty cage.
The rabbit chuckled, picked up the peony, and tossed it toward the audience. The flower followed a parabolic trajectory, landing on Shen Ti’s lap.
Looking up, Mr. Rabbit had already moved to the right side of the stage. He grabbed the black velvet cloth and gave it a strong tug.
“This is the miracle of instant teleportation!”
An Wujiu, who was just in the left cage, had been magically transported to the right cage across the entire length of the stage.
“Surprised? Excited?” The rabbit bounced around the stage.
The door was opened, and An Wujiu walked out, his face showing a calm demeanor.
“Thank you for your cooperation, handsome sir. You can now leave the stage and embrace your friends.”
An Wujiu descended from the stage and approached Shen Ti with a faint smile on his face.
Seeing him safely reappear, Shen Ti’s heart gradually eased. However, perhaps due to the strange atmosphere of the place, an indescribable emotion surged within him, and his brows unconsciously furrowed.
In front of the stage, the magical transmission between the two golden cages was spectacular. Behind the stage, a large red velvet curtain concealed a massive apparatus resembling an eternal glass case.
At the top of the sealed glass device, a water pipe continuously poured water inside. It gradually rose, surpassing the ankle-locking chain, covering the feet and knees, and rising toward the waist.
An unconscious An Wujiu was immersed in the water, and the hem of his white shirt was floating and swaying.
Like a delicate and beautiful white peony.
