Meng Yiran licked her lips. “I don’t know…” She furrowed her brow, trying hard to recall the image that had flashed through her mind the instant she’d uncovered the cloth. After some deliberation, she continued, “I just suddenly felt that it wasn’t.”
She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. “It’s like… a part of the Mother Tree, plucked from it.”
Tong Yuwu gave her a deep look and murmured her assent, without pressing further.
She stepped over to the desk nearby and picked up a red-bound book the size of a palm. This was the one the Elder who had led the prayer chants had held earlier—the “Holy Book” they’d referred to.
She tried to open it, only to find that the first half of the pages were glued together with some powerful adhesive, impossible to separate. The latter pages could be opened, but they simply recorded the prayer verses the Elder had recited at the Prayer Meeting, offering no useful information.
Meng Yiran stepped forward and touched the stuck pages. “…Not easy to pry open.” She judged, “If we force it, the whole book will probably fall apart, and we won’t see what’s inside anyway.”
Tong Yuwu nodded.
She appeared elegant and innocent, but her actions were direct and bold. Without another word, she slipped the red-bound book into her pocket. “We’ll take it back.”
Meng Yiran suppressed the twinge of guilt from the theft and nodded in agreement.
She might have hesitated before, but after learning those old men had planned to drug Tong Yuwu and drain her blood, it was hard for her to muster any sympathy for them.
Besides…
“I hope the Holy Book really has some clues. Rose Street is just too strange.” Meng Yiran added softly.
Tong Yuwu murmured her assent.
Meng Yiran continued, “We need to find a way to leave.” She calculated the time. “That maid will notice something’s wrong soon. If she checks the washroom, she’ll realize we’re gone right away.”
Tong Yuwu curved her lips. “No problem.”
She raised her hand, and the transparent Crystal Magic Cube reappeared in her palm.
Meng Yiran’s eyes lit up. “Right, you still have this!”
She leaned in close. “You can use the Magic Cube to teleport us back, right?”
Tong Yuwu nodded.
Meng Yiran was about to urge her on when something occurred to her. “Wait.” She left the desk and walked over to the strange potted rose.
After a moment’s thought, she picked up the silk cloth she’d dropped on the floor earlier and held it near the wall lamp, using the flame to set it alight.
The two hadn’t exchanged words, but Tong Yuwu understood her intent from the action alone.
She followed suit, stepping up to the potted rose and lifting her foot to kick the stand right out from under it.
“Crash!”
The pot shattered into pieces upon hitting the floor. Meng Yiran brought the lit silk cloth closer, about to smother the plant, when a piercing scream exploded in her ears.
The cry was excruciatingly shrill, like an infant’s wail mingled with the long hoot of a night owl.
Meng Yiran clapped her hands over her ears and doubled over in pain, unable to move.
Tong Yuwu frowned, her purple eyes flashing as she pointed at the fallen rose and pinched her fingers.
“Crack!”
In the next instant, the tough stems and leaves snapped like fragile glass, emitting the grating sound of rotting wood being chopped.
The shrill noise vanished. Meng Yiran gasped for breath and draped the silk cloth over the rose once more. This time, everything went smoothly—the burning fabric enveloped the petals, turning their delicate hues a vivid orange-yellow in the firelight.
Chaotic footsteps echoed from the other end of the corridor. Meng Yiran wasted no more time, shifting back into her cat form and burrowing into Tong Yuwu’s arms. Tong Yuwu gave the magic cube a gentle twist, and in the blink of an eye, the two of them were back in the washroom on the first floor.
The maids outside were pounding on the door with all their might. “Open up! Open this door right now!”
One raised her voice. “Miss, if you don’t come out, we’re coming in!”
Tong Yuwu stroked the quiet little white cat in her arms and strode forward to open the door.
In the corridor beyond the washroom stood not only that maid but also several burly male servants. They all glared at the noble miss who had appeared in the doorway, their expressions fierce and hostile.
The noble miss remained utterly composed, furrowing her brow as she demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”
The maid seemed stunned that she was still in the washroom. It took her several seconds to school her surprised expression.
She toned down her aggression a bit. “Er, miss, ahem, you’ve been in the washroom far too long.” She pressed on. “I’ve been calling out to you for ages—why didn’t you respond?”
Tong Yuwu replied coolly, “I didn’t feel like it.”
The maid’s face stiffened.
Tong Yuwu arched a brow. “Is there anything else?”
The maid snapped back to attention and signaled to the two male servants behind her. They pushed past Tong Yuwu and began searching the washroom.
Amid the clattering sounds, the maid plastered on a perfunctory smile. “Allow me to escort you back to the drawing room.”
The noble miss, cat in her arms, walked ahead on her own. “No need.”
The maid and her entourage hurried after her, their posture less like an escort and more like they were poised to attack at any moment.
Tong Yuwu said, “It’s too late.” She pinched the little white cat’s ear. “I should be going.”
The maid’s face darkened. “The prayer meeting hasn’t ended yet. I’m afraid you don’t have a choi—”
Before she could finish, another tall maid appeared around the corner ahead.
This tall maid held a position of evident authority. The maid who had been following Tong Yuwu immediately approached her with deference, speaking in hushed tones. Meng Yiran quickly recognized her as the one who had carried the basin of blood during the prayer meeting. When the basin had spilled, everyone around had been splattered to some degree. Only this tall maid had noticed that Tong Yuwu remained spotless, without a single drop on her.
Uncertain of the woman’s background, Meng Yiran leaned close to Tong Yuwu’s ear and meowed softly in warning.
Their conversation ended quickly. The original maid and the menacing male servants were all dismissed, leaving only the tall maid to approach the pair.
Her attitude was exceedingly polite. “Good night, miss. There was a minor incident upstairs earlier, and we apologize for the poor hospitality.”
Tong Yuwu’s expression remained impassive. She had no interest in engaging and stepped forward to leave, only to be blocked.
The tall maid bowed low. “My household’s master… has lost something very important.
“The entire small building has been sealed off. All guests must submit to a search to prove their innocence before they can leave.”
Tong Yuwu ignored her completely and continued onward.
The tall maid halted, then let out a soft, eerie sigh.
When she spoke again, all pretense of respect had vanished from her voice. “That book has a very special property. As long as it’s near the broken rose branches, it can make them regrow their roots.
“If you just walk out like this, you’ll give yourself away immediately.”
The little white cat froze in shock.
What shocked her wasn’t just the maid’s words, but also the conciliatory attitude the woman displayed. The maid was convinced that “that book” was in Tong Yuwu’s possession, yet she had chosen to whisper this revelation in a secluded spot with no third parties around.
This left Meng Yiran utterly baffled.
She turned around, planting both front paws on Tong Yuwu’s shoulders as she craned her neck to study the maid’s expression.
Tong Yuwu’s footsteps hadn’t slowed in the slightest because of the maid’s words, and the woman’s brows gradually furrowed, a flicker of uncertainty creeping into her demeanor.
Moments later, she hurried to catch up, scrutinizing Tong Yuwu with intense focus.
Before long, the pair and their feline companion emerged from the dim corridor and reached the vicinity of the grand entrance.
The elderly guests who had lingered in the parlor had all congregated ahead, queuing to pass through the gates. Stone-faced maids stood nearby, wielding clipped rose branches that they swept methodically over the front and back of each person’s body.
After every pass, the maid would pull back the branch to inspect it for changes, granting the door guards permission to allow passage only after confirming all was in order.
Meng Yiran nestled anxiously against Tong Yuwu’s chest, uttering low, urgent mews.
Tong Yuwu halted and gently stroked Little White Cat’s back in reassurance.
A smile tugged at the tall maid’s lips. “Seeing is believing, isn’t it?”
She leaned in close. “Hey, Noble Miss, just beg me nicely, and I’ll help you out. Deal?”
Tong Yuwu finally turned her head to regard her.
The maid assumed victory was at hand, her grin turning smug. But in the next instant, to her surprise, Tong Yuwu simply seized her arm.
The delicate Noble Miss proved surprisingly strong as she wrenched the tall maid’s arm, exposing the pale skin on the inside of her wrist.
Meng Yiran dipped her head and spotted a golden cufflink fastened there.
The cufflink was exquisitely crafted, its design a rarity in this era—shaped like a string of characters.
Meng Yiran had been studying the script of this world for some time now. She hadn’t mastered every symbol yet, but she was certain this sequence bore no resemblance to the Empire’s common tongue, which she was currently learning.
Tong Yuwu clearly didn’t recognize it either. She fixed her gaze on the cufflink and demanded, “What does it mean?”
The maid’s eyes lit up brighter. “You know what this is?”
Tong Yuwu shifted her stare to the woman’s face, her expression icy and unresponsive.
Silently, she tightened her grip, drawing pained yelps from the maid. “Ow—ow—easy there!”
The tall maid’s face contorted in agony. “Hiss—that hurts! If I shout, you’ll be busted in a heartbeat.”
Tong Yuwu furrowed her brow.
At last, the maid dropped the act and pointed to the character-shaped cufflink. “These two characters—you’ve heard them plenty tonight.
“‘Longevity.’ That’s what it stands for.”
Tong Yuwu released her hand and bowed her head, lost in thought.
Meng Yiran let out a meow, reclaiming her attention. She found it odd that the Noble Miss, who showed interest in virtually nothing, had suddenly fixated on a mere cufflink.
Tong Yuwu snapped back to the present, gave her back another comforting stroke, then strode toward the entrance with Little White Cat in tow, paying the tall maid no further mind.
The woman blinked in daze; it was too late to intervene. She could only scowl as Tong Yuwu took her place at the tail end of the line.
Only a handful remained ahead. Soon enough, a severed rose branch glided slowly over Tong Yuwu’s front and back.
The maid examined it closely, her brows knitting together. In a cold voice, she told them, “……You’re clear to go.”
The rose petals had shriveled slightly, betraying early signs of withering. The broken stem, meanwhile, lay barren and lifeless, utterly devoid of any new roots.
