Chapter 154: “My Eyes Feel a Little Itchy…”

Chapter 154 "There's something itchy in my eyes..."

'Become my eyes.'

The phosphorescent sea of light expanded endlessly in Meng Siyou's vision. The will-o'-the-wisp luminescence gradually consumed his entire pupils as the luminous waves surged forward, submerging his awareness.

Meng Siyou didn’t even have time to flee or struggle before he instantly lost consciousness.

"Ah..."

Yi Fengchu sighed. The phantom serpent coiled deep within Meng Siyou's consciousness abruptly opened its eyes, raising its upper body as if in warning, flicking its forked tongue.

With the cold, rasping hiss of the serpent, the authority of time flowed outward. Countless luminous particles that had spread from within the wall froze in place, and the surging luminescent waves hung suspended midair—

The emerald sea of light solidified completely at the very moment it was about to overwhelm Meng Siyou.

Then, time rewound. The flickering specks receded like a retreating tide, shrinking back inch by inch into the depths of the pupil embedded in the wall.

The cracks on the wall's surface gradually faded, and the eyeball that had nearly burst through returned to its original position, lapsing back into dormancy within the dark embrace of the bricks.

Having resolved this fatal predicament for his old classmate, Yi Fengchu pondered for a moment before temporarily allowing his proxy to assume control of Meng Siyou's body.

The brown-haired, blue-eyed little girl leveraged herself upright against the wall, her movements slightly stiff as she climbed back into bed. She even fastidiously arranged the body under the covers, arranging it into a composed, dignified repose.

...

The next morning, sunlight seeped through the gaps in the curtains, falling upon Meng Siyou's tightly shut eyelids.

Meng Siyou blearily blinked awake, staring blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds before bolting upright. He hurried to the mirror, examining his own pupils with feverish intensity.

"Nothing? How can there be nothing?"

He peeled his eyelids apart with two fingers, staring closely at the reflection of his eyes in the mirror. He could see the blood vessels in the whites, the minute striations across the iris—but not a trace of that uncanny phosphorescence.

"Could it have just been a nightmare?"

Appearing disoriented, Meng Siyou mused aloud, "That can't be right. Even dreams in an instance are usually related to clues..."

Just as he began doubting himself, Wu Suer interrupted:

"Stop overthinking. It wasn’t your imagination—the hole in the wall is still there. Though, I wouldn’t recommend approaching it heedlessly again."

Recalling last night’s events, Meng Siyou remained shaken, his breathing unconsciously quickening.

If Wu Suer hadn’t intervened at the critical moment, he might have been lost in this instance!

Just a little more, and his eyes would have been overgrown with that lichenous bioluminescence, densely flickering with spectral motes in the darkness...

The thought sent a chill down his spine, making him appreciate his untainted, natural eyes all the more.

Steadying himself, Meng Siyou bowed his head gratefully and said sincerely, "Thank you for your help!"

At the same time, he understood that a higher being's assistance was never charity without cost. Yet, the items and wealth he possessed were meaningless to Wu Suer...

After a moment’s thought, he solemnly promised, "If there’s anything you need me to do, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do my utmost to fulfill it."

Wu Suer said with amusement. "For now, I have no demands of you. Our relationship is akin to that of a 'passenger' and a 'vehicle'—you provide me a foothold and opportunity, while I occasionally ensure the vehicle remains intact and clean. That’s fair."

Meng Siyou fell silent.

So, in this powerful being’s eyes, he was essentially a conveyance?!

Wu Suer reflected for a moment before adding, "If I must make a request, seek more contact with that 'prophet.' Just be careful not to expose my presence."

"You mean... Mr. Prophet?"

Meng Siyou asked in surprise, and after receiving confirmation, he grew even more puzzled.

From his prior observations, whenever the past Mr. Narrator appeared, the Wu Suer in his mind would become unusually silent, even lowering his voice when mocking him, maintaining unusual restraint.

Thus, Meng Siyou had always assumed Wu Suer’s attitude toward the prophet wasn’t entirely positive.

Whether out of dislike or reverence for a True God of the same domain, Wu Suer shouldn’t have wanted the prophet constantly appearing within his field of vision.

Yet now, Wu Suer’s request upended that presumption.

Noticing Meng Siyou’s unspoken questions, Wu Suer asked curiously, "What are you thinking now?"

He simply wanted to observe his past self up close to awaken lost memories—wasn’t that entirely reasonable?

But since Meng Siyou didn’t know the prophet and the Narrator were the same person, it naturally seemed strange—what kind of perverse conduct was this, publicly antagonistic on the surface while secretly peeping from the shadows?!

Of course, Meng Siyou didn’t dare voice this. He merely shook his head. "...It’s nothing. I’ll fulfill your expectations."

Just then, a staccato rapping sounded at the door.

Standing outside was the stern house stewardess, her brows tightly furrowed, mouth drawn tight with tension, her angular features appearing even more rigid and gloomy.

Her tone was severe as she asked, "Meng Na, did you hear any strange noises from the neighboring room last night?"

Meng Siyou hesitated, omitting part of the truth. "I think I faintly heard something... like the scrabbling of vermin."

"It was very late, and I only caught a bit of noise before falling asleep."

"Are you certain you didn’t hear anything more?" The house stewardess hugged her arms anxiously, delicately inquiring. "For instance, unfamiliar whispers, prayers, or perhaps... uncanny, discordant strains?"

Meng Siyou realized—Anna’s abnormality had been discovered!

Having both eyes gouged out, their shattered remains smeared across the walls, was clearly no ordinary murder.

He guessed the duke and the servants might suspect Anna’s death was linked to occult malevolent spirits or evil gods?

"No, aside from faint rustling, I heard nothing," Meng Siyou simulated bewilderment and alarm, covering his mouth in a hushed gasp. "Merciful gods, could there be cultists nearby?"

The house stewardess glared at him, waving a hand impatiently. "Speak no foolishness! We are all followers of the Nature Sculptor, blessed by holy benediction. How could such wicked devils appear in this manor?"

Despite her words, disquiet stirred in the house stewardess’s eyes, as if she couldn’t fully convince herself.

Exhaling, she clearly had no desire to discuss the ghastly affair further with a child.

Glancing at the wall clock, she hurriedly urged, "It’s already 8:15! Miss Ernos begins her painting lesson at 8:30! Wash up quickly and dress properly—you’re to accompany her!"

"If you fail to satisfy the young lady, you won’t be staying here any longer!"

Meng Siyou nodded repeatedly, rummaging through the wardrobe before finally—amidst Wu Suer’s mocking laughter—selecting the most austere frock and submitting with resignation to putting it on...

Once ready, he stepped out and made a pointed survey of the neighboring room.

Several maids bustled about inside Anna’s room, carrying brushes, brooms, and other cleaning tools.

Two more male servants carried in several large buckets of water, sloshing them loudly onto the walls and floor of Anna's room.

The fragments of eyeballs stuck to the wall were gradually washed away, the viscous blood trickling down and slowly diluted by the water, leaving only faint streaks of blood visible in the liquid.

A shallow layer of water pooled on the floor, filled with countless broken veins, muscle tissues, and shattered lens fragments floating and sinking. Whenever the water was disturbed, these gory debris swirled in the ripples.

"God—this is vile!"

A maid scrubbing the wall bent over, covering her nose and mouth with her left hand, trying to dispel the cloying metallic stench.

Unable to hide her fear, she muttered under her breath, "This is definitely not something a normal person could do... What else but a curse from an evil spirit could make a teenage girl tear out her own eyes in the dead of night, then crush and smear them all over the wall like mashing overripe fruit?"

Meng Siyou glanced over and nodded grimly.

Leaving aside everything else, just the sight of the red and yellow stains stretching from the base of the wall all the way up to nearly the ceiling—far beyond Anna's reach—was defying nature, science, and reason.

Another round-cheeked maid chimed in, "I heard that when they found the girl, she was still standing, her face pressed tightly against the wall, her limbs already stiff..."

"Even though only one night had passed, she looked like she'd been dead for ages—her body swollen with decay, her hands, face, even her empty eye sockets covered in a layer of furry green lichen!"

This maid seemed to be acquainted with the doctor who examined the body and had learned some grisly particulars early on. Now, as she vividly described the scene, she reveled in her coworkers' horrified reactions, growing even more pleased with herself.

Distracted by the gossip, the servants' cleaning slowed unconsciously.

Meanwhile, Meng Siyou quietly noted the details about the corpse—so the things that had infested the eyes could also multiply on the body's surface...

Ugh, that made it even more revolting.

Mentally shuddering, Meng Siyou checked the time and realized it was getting late. He hurried to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before accompanying the equally eccentric young mistress to her art lesson.

Unbeknownst to him, after he left, a small incident unfolded among the servants.

After rambling on for a while, the plump maid turned to a silent companion and asked, puzzled, "Why haven’t you said a word today?"

The one she addressed had a sweet, porcelain-doll face—the youngest and least experienced servant in the household.

Normally cheerful and chatty, the young maid was well-liked by her peers, always bubbling with energy. It was rare for her to be this quiet.

Now, the doll-faced girl kept her head low, diligently mopping the floor, occasionally rubbing her eyes, which were brimming with tears.

"It's..." she murmured vaguely, "I just feel... my eyes are a bit uncomfortable..."

"They feel... itchy..."

"Maybe some dust got in them?"

The plump maid immediately set down her brush and cupped the younger maid’s face with motherly concern. "Dear, let me take a look—maybe I can blow it out for you!"

Leaning in close, their differently colored eyes reflected each other’s faces, mere inches apart.

Both went statue-still.

Ah... so they were the same.

—Or rather, all the servants in this mansion were the same.

The other servants glanced over curiously, and in the depths of everyone’s pupils—including the two maids—glimmered with the same ghostly light.