Chapter 224: Shen Baiwei’s Little Notebook
Though guided personally by Nanling Peak, it still took a while for the system to find the portrait from him.
On the yellowed pages of the notebook, slightly messy lines pieced together to sketch out the girl’s side profile with an almost perfect jawline. A few strands of hair hung at her temples; although her face held no expression, her enchanting eyes, glancing over, could capture anyone’s heart.
From the perspective of painting technique, the artist didn’t seem to have received much professional training, but her talent was quite good. The characters she depicted were exceptionally vivid—one or two parts attributed to technique, while the remaining eight or nine parts were entirely based on emotion.
The system gazed at the portrait, seemingly lost in thought. A faint, gentle smile unconsciously crept onto its lips, but that weak tenderness was quickly replaced by coldness and anger.
This series of micro-expressions, coupled with its hideous appearance, caught the eyes of the other three present, leading them to feel an immediate discomfort.
Words like lewd, hideous, evil… surged in their minds, as if resembling the barrage of comments on a video with millions of views.
Could it be up to no good?
“What… what do you want?!” Huaiyuan Jun said warily, speaking out softly.
Hearing this, the system snapped back to reality, lifting the portrait in front of itself with a fin-like gesture, and said somewhat aggrievedly, “Um, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean any harm; it’s just that the girl in this portrait is too beautiful, I got lost in thought.”
The depiction of the nightmare was simply a perfect restoration; most people would feel moved upon seeing it, the system thought.
Putting aside its love-hate relationship with calamity, it certainly recognized the beauty of disaster.
To be honest, if it weren’t for that top-notch sultry appearance, calamity wouldn’t have accomplished so many big tasks. If it had been someone like Pestilence Taijie, a figure universally loathed, they would’ve been dead dozens of times for all the troublesome things calamity had done.
Initially, Huaiyuan Jun was skeptical of the system’s words, but upon seeing the portrait in its hand, she became convinced.
“Wow! Is this the wife of Senior Yunshen Machine? She’s so beautiful!” she couldn’t help but exclaim.
Upon hearing this, Bai Kai couldn’t wait to say, “Let me see!”
When the system held the portrait out for him, he froze for a moment after clearly seeing its contents.
He could affirm that the person portrayed was definitely not Wang Meili but was rather Lu Xianbei.
Could it be that Xiao Bei put this in? Bai Kai pondered, and his brow, which had been slightly furrowed, began to twist into a frown.
He knew Lu Xianbei should still be inside Yumen Pass somewhere. Thinking carefully, after Lu Xianbei commissioned someone to paint such a delicate side-profile portrait, she presumably infiltrated deep into the County Prince’s Mansion, stuffed the portrait into an iron box, and then somehow managed to come out unscathed from that strange person’s hands. The motive and logic behind it seemed incomprehensible, but…
From what he understood about Lu Xianbei, she often accomplished things without any real motive or logic as long as she could torment people and find amusement, for instance…
Putting a portrait that was completely out of sync with that era—both in style and paper—into an ancient iron box.
As for the meaning… if she gained joy from it, wasn’t that enough meaning?
It was like in school when, once, for a month, she drew a mysterious symbol at the end of her language assignments, leaving her teacher baffled. Under the increasing curiosity torture, the teacher couldn’t help but ask her, ultimately leading to an accumulation of pointless babble.
Returning to her thoughts, Bai Kai observed the portrait again and made an unexpected discovery.
“Wait! There seem to be words on it…?”
He carefully examined the portrait once more, and his confusion deepened.
Were those letters there originally? They seemed absent just now… or did I see it wrong?
He remembered looking very seriously at the portrait the first time; he recalled that there were no such letters present.
“Words? What do they say? Let me see!” Huaiyuan Jun chimed in.
Hearing this, the system suppressed its strong curiosity and presented the portrait to her.
“Indeed, there are!” After closely analyzing the portrait, Huaiyuan Jun exclaimed as if discovering something rare, “It seems to say… ‘She seems like a good person?’ Is that really regular script? What the heck? I can’t understand it.”
System: “???”
A good person? Referring to calamity? d*mn! What on earth happened between calamity and nightmare?
————
As night fell, on a weathered rock face near the edge of the Longxiang Army camp, Shen Baiwei leaned back against a protruding rock, stretching contentedly like a well-fed cat soaking up the sunlight before picking up her beloved little notebook again.
She felt refreshed!
It was as if she had finished a day of work and study, had a good workout, taken a hot shower, and cozied up on the couch with her favorite chilled drink.
This was the most intuitive feeling she had since leaving Lu Xianbei’s side.
Staying away from calamity—otherwise, she would become unhappy—was not just talk. Whether “calamity” referred to events or a specific person.
With calamity no longer nearby to irritate her, and not wanting to interact with the Longxiang Army Armor Soldiers, she chose this quiet place to do what she loved most—writing and drawing.
Shen Baiwei couldn’t quite remember when she developed this hobby. Maybe it was during school, back when her teacher first asked her to keep a diary, or perhaps it was because the onset of Nightfall Syndrome began to affect her, making her feel like an outcast among her classmates, with nowhere to express her pent-up feelings.
In any case, as long as she had a pen and a piece of paper, allowing her to write or draw freely, she could quiet her mind and feel at ease.
This notebook was the last gift she received before entering Tethys Laboratory. By that time, she had been isolated from those around her for a long stretch. She even felt that those people wished for her early demise to avoid contracting the incurable Nightfall Syndrome.
After all, very few could tolerate having all their past experiences—good or bad—displayed in someone else’s mind. Though Shen Baiwei didn’t want her messy, inexplicable memories to surface, those who felt their privacy invaded wouldn’t care.
And it was just when she was about to apply for a leave of absence for treatment due to her worsening Nightfall Syndrome that she unexpectedly received a gift. Upon unwrapping the exquisite packaging, she saw this notebook, along with a small card wishing her a speedy recovery and inviting her to a farewell ceremony.
There was indeed a farewell ceremony, but only Shen Baiwei attended.
After cleaning up her belongings and completing her withdrawal procedures from school, she returned home, donned her favorite dress, and dressed up nicely. Then, following the instructions on the card, she arrived early at a hotpot restaurant near the school, ordering an assortment of dishes, eagerly awaiting her “friends.” However…
The hotpot boiled and bubbled, cooking the tofu until it was thoroughly saturated and began to turn black and bitter. The hotpot staff expressed concern several times, but Shen Baiwei did not see anyone come to her.
This was a prank she had experienced countless times, but… that day she still took the prank as a special farewell, thinking maybe the person who left the gift was temporarily occupied and couldn’t attend.
After that day, she moved into the hospital, picked up a pen, and began to confide her troubles to her only friend—her little notebook.
She wasn’t worried about the little notebook running out one day; after all, this little notebook had become a Spirit Energy Item closely related to her Spirit Patterns and powers. Every time she “saved,” much of what she had written would vanish…
————
“Sasa… Sasa…”
A quill made from the tail feathers of a brown-tailed rainbow pheasant glided across the paper, producing soft sounds that inspired tranquility.
Shen Baiwei first “constructed files” in her little notebook for Hong Bian and Longxiang, recording their features and venting her feelings by embellishing them with a few ugly doodles—Longxiang was depicted peppered with arrows, while Hong Bian sported a shiny bald head with mismatched eye sizes.
“This is more like it! How can a bald man dare to call himself a holy monk?” Shen Baiwei mused over her “masterpieces,” muttering to herself before picking up her pen again. This time, she recorded the myriad sights within the Longxiang Army camp.
As the great battle was about to unfold, the Longxiang Army camp lacked much of the tension and agitation one might expect; it was as though all discontent and fear were hiding, brewing in unseen places, much like the brief calm before a storm.
If not for the occasional sight of the Longxiang Army Armor Soldiers in armor patrolling, or the distant sounds of warhorses, one might think this was just a huge outdoor camping site.
After sketching a scenic view of the camp and several portraits of the Longxiang Army Armor Soldiers, Shen Baiwei was tapping the feather of her quill against her chin, pondering what to write next when suddenly, a clanging metallic sound echoed above the camp.
Following the direction of the sound, she saw in the open space before the main tent a soldier whose armor differed slightly from others, seemingly of somewhat higher rank, was holding a short stick and striking a metal piece shaped like a tile.
“Clang—Clang—Clang—!”
The sound was somewhat weak but very clear.
As the clangs spread out, soon the Longxiang Army Armor Soldiers resting inside their tents gathered. Within a minute or two, a dense crowd formed in the open space before the main tent.
At that moment, Longxiang stepped out from the main tent and said a few words to the assembled soldiers. Almost immediately, the silence that had reigned over the previously quiet crowd was replaced by an unrestrained excitement, with some even raising their hands to brush away tears from their faces.
“What’s going on? Are they about to mobilize?” Shen Baiwei murmured, unable to hear Longxiang’s words clearly.
“Mobilize? There’s still a little time! That old guy is calling the Longxiang Army soldiers to leave behind letters to their families, so they have something to remember them by,” a voice behind her suddenly chimed in. “It’s probably just to give their families some keepsake.”
Upon hearing the unexpected voice behind her, Shen Baiwei nodded thoughtfully. “So that’s how it is…”
As she was halfway through her sentence, she suddenly turned around to find calamity standing behind her, wide-eyed, “When… when did you get here?”
“Maybe I’ve come a bit early!” Lu Xianbei shrugged. “About the time you stepped out of the camp, I followed right after.”
Shen Baiwei was a living record keeper, the crucial key to changing the outcome at Yumen Pass, and most importantly, to protecting her own life. There was no way she could just walk away casually!
Not seeing Shen Baiwei for even a moment felt as uncomfortable as ants crawling all over her body! Lu Xianbei thought.
