Chapter 634: Goodbye, Plum Blossom 8

Chen Ling's brows furrowed deeply, a mix of restless confusion and the pressure from audience expectations weighing on him.

The good news was that after he traveled a bit further, another enormous object drifted into view from a distance. It wasn't the large face he'd seen before, but a galloping, roaring steed!

Though called a steed, it was in fact just a three-dimensional outline sketched from geometric lines. Its fingernail-sized eyes were unevenly arrayed, and its exaggerated horse-mouth was twisted in mid-air. It didn't charge directly at Chen Ling; instead, it streaked past him like a meteor in another direction.

As it drew closer, Chen Ling's emotions were once again influenced. Panic and fear welled up within him, making his eyes involuntarily widen as if he too were about to become a startled horse, turning to gallop wildly into the distance with it.

Fortunately, Chen Ling eventually suppressed these emotions. Fixing his gaze, he saw that on the horse's rear, there was also a rotating "arrow" and a plum blossom mark.

However, because the horse was moving so fast, the "arrow" spun much quicker than the one on the large face. Yet, it consistently pointed in the same direction from beginning to end.

Seeing this, Chen Ling immediately adjusted his direction according to the "arrow" and continued forward.

In the subsequent journey, Chen Ling encountered two more colossal entities: one was a distorted human figure with malformed limbs, frantically crawling through the void; the other was a woman cradling what appeared to be a child's corpse, rushing past him.

Each time they appeared, Chen Ling's emotions were involuntarily stirred, as if he had fully empathized with them. Without exception, these massive beings seemed to be terrified of something, their hearts filled with supplication, grief, and resentment, as if some invisible force was tormenting them from beyond.

As expected, these two colossal entities also bore pointing "arrows," which Chen Ling used to make two more directional corrections.

Time seemed to lose its meaning in this world; Chen Ling had no idea how long he had been advancing. He only saw the audience's expectation level continuously drop, from an initial "44" all the way down to "35".

After several adjustments and continued progress, Chen Ling finally spotted something different in the void.

It was a house.

In this world of void, devoid of land, sky, or any material existence, an ordinary house floated quietly, appearing like a realistic object suddenly placed within a vast abstract painting, detached from its surroundings, creating an inexplicable sense of abruptness.

It was single-story, with a single door and a pair of windows; no light emitted from the windows, which resembled black abysses.

“Is this where the arrow is pointing…?”

Chen Ling looked at the house before him and, without much hesitation, stepped through the void to its entrance.

This house had colors and wasn't abstract like the other giant entities, clearly not a creation of "Guernica." Coupled with the plum blossom symbols and arrows he had seen along the way, Chen Ling already had a faint idea of who had created this house.

Chen Ling took a deep breath and slowly knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock—

A profound silence fell upon the void.

Dressed in a large red opera robe, he stood quietly at the doorway, waiting. A boning knife was concealed in the sleeve behind his back, just in case of any unexpected situations.

After several seconds, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door opened from within.

The door opened without a sound. As it swung halfway open, a figure stood there like a ghost, silently.

It was a disheveled and dirty teenager, with a sallow complexion and bloodshot eyes, much like a patient suffering from neurasthenia. Every inch of his skin seemed utterly exhausted.

He saw Chen Ling standing outside the door, and after a long pause, he spoke in a hoarse voice:

“I thought Li Shangfeng would be the one to open this door… I didn't expect it to be you.”

Chen Ling scrutinized the teenager before him, his brows unconsciously knitting together. He recognized Clubs 8 at once; after all, they had met before in the Aurora Realm and even arrived in the Mortal World Realm together. But what surprised him was how utterly different Clubs 8 appeared compared to before they entered the Mortal World.

If Clubs 8 had been a spirited and brilliant young genius in the Aurora Realm, the person standing before Chen Ling now looked like a lifeless, utterly emaciated prisoner.

Especially his gaze towards Chen Ling: facing such an unexpected guest, there was no surprise in his eyes, only profound sorrow and pain. Chen Ling remembered that look; it was almost identical to the expressions on the colossal entities he had just passed.

“Clubs 8,” Chen Ling asked with a frown, “What… what have you been through?”

“…Come in and we'll talk.”

Clubs 8's pale fingers released the door, and he stepped back half a pace, gesturing for Chen Ling to enter.

Chen Ling entered the house and then carefully observed his surroundings. The furnishings inside were extremely simple: a bed, a chair, a table, and painting brushes scattered all over the floor.

If there was any difference between this place and the prisons Chen Ling had seen, it was probably the colorful curtains adorned with fluttering cartoon butterfly patterns, the only touch of warmth in this cramped room.

“Sit,” Clubs 8 said, pointing to the chair, seemingly too exhausted to utter another word.

Chen Ling sat down on the chair, then seemed to remember something.

“Who is Li Shangfeng, the person you just mentioned?”

“Oh… you don't know his real name,” Clubs 8 said faintly. “Hearts 9. You should know him now, right?”

Hearts 9's boisterous appearance immediately flashed through Chen Ling's mind. He couldn't reconcile the elegant, chivalrous-sounding name with such a comical character.

“…I know him now.”

“Is he here?”

“He'll be here soon; I came to scout ahead.”

“To dare to scout the Headquarters of Fleeting Life Painting alone… You truly are a monster bearing 'World Annihilation,'” Clubs 8 said, slowly sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall, his voice somewhat weak. “Have you seen the Second Hall?”

“Yes.”

“He didn't kill you?”

“No, I traded some information with him. Even though he looks a bit strange, he seems to be quite principled.”

Clubs 8 seemed to recall something, and a faint smile curved his lips:

“Indeed, that guy might deal in 'abstraction,' but he never abstracts when it comes to business.”

“So, what exactly is this place? And what is 'Guernica'?”

Upon hearing the question, the smile on Clubs 8's lips slowly faded.

He straightened up and spoke hoarsely:

“'Guernica' is a painting.”

“A painting?”

“More precisely, it's a Cubist abstract painting… something the Second Hall found deep within the ancient Qingdao Repository years ago,” Clubs 8 said, gesturing with his chin towards the window.

“Did you see those abstract 'monsters' on your way here?”