Chapter 1145: Eyes

Although she said this, Qiu Shiliu still had a dazed look in her eyes.

She knew she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, so she could only resort to the dumbest method—

That was to enter as many doors as possible, then find a way to leave behind all the information she discovered in some place, praying that her teammates outside might stumble upon it by sheer coincidence. After all, she was already doomed no matter what.

Thinking this, Qiu Shiliu turned around again and began “moving” toward another door not too far away. The scenery within her line of sight began rushing backward at high speed.

But just a few seconds later, her conviction faltered, and everything around her came to a halt.

It turned out that in moments of despair, people could suddenly spark with inspiration they had never considered before—

Before entering the door earlier, Su Shan had told her that exploring this space required abandoning all conventional logic.

If that was the case… Qiu Shiliu turned her head and looked back at the door she had just stepped toward.

Why had she chosen that particular door to move toward?

There was only one reason—it was the closest to her. By conventional logic, with limited time, the nearest door would be the easiest to reach.

But if that was true, and given the condition that “it’s not me moving, but the space,” then the logic of the earlier movement shouldn’t have been “I go to the nearest door,” but rather “let the nearest door come to me.”

Qiu Shiliu raised a hand to her forehead, trying to cool down her overheated brain.

In other words, because the space had just received the command “let the nearest door come to me,” the entire space had shifted, eventually placing her in front of that door.

“If this theory is actually correct…” Qiu Shiliu exhaled slowly. “I don’t need to randomly enter these doors at all…”

She steadied her conviction, then slowly closed her eyes.

Clearly, she couldn’t rely on “common sense” here.

If this space could accept such an abstract command, then in theory, she could do anything.

She felt as though she was the only living person in this bizarre space—its “god.” Everything here could move according to her will.

Now, she cleared her mind of all other thoughts, focusing intently on repeating a single phrase—

“Let the most important door come to me.”

The abstract nature of the command left Qiu Shiliu standing dumbfounded for a long time. Nothing around her changed, so she could only empty her mind further, sinking deeper into meditation.

She had no idea how much time passed before she finally felt a rushing wind in her ears—sometimes blowing from the front, sometimes from the side, as if the entire space were rapidly shifting and turning.

To ensure success, Qiu Shiliu kept her eyes shut, repeating the phrase over and over. After a short while, the wind sounds vanished completely.

She waited a few more seconds before slowly opening her eyes.

The scenery before her had indeed changed, but since she had kept her eyes closed, Qiu Shiliu had no idea which direction the space had moved. The only confirmation was the presence of numerous doors ahead, proving she was no longer in her original position.

Yet soon, she noticed something eerie.

There was no “door” in front of her.

The nearest door, by conventional distance, was at least a hundred meters away. Instead, she was standing in an empty void.

Was this because her conviction was lacking… or had she been wrong from the very beginning?

Did this place not have a so-called “important door” at all? In other words, was the Black Tortoise’s weakness not even here…?

Just as Qiu Shiliu was about to close her eyes and reconsider, she noticed something strange right in front of her.

A tiny speck of light hovered in midair, very close to her.

Frowning, Qiu Shiliu stared at the speck—it was no larger than a coin, with faint patterns flickering inside.

“Could this… be the door…?”

Her eyes widened as she slowly stepped forward.

The speck was far too small to be called a “door.” At best, it was just a “hole.”

If this was indeed the “most important door,” how was she supposed to enter or exit it? How could she even know what was inside?

Hesitating for a moment, Qiu Shiliu leaned forward and aligned her eye with the tiny opening.

…

“Jiu-jie… it’s fine.” Jiang Shi leaned against the wall, his voice weak. “I’m okay… You should go to the Black Tortoise. Your ability is important too.”

Bai Jiu sighed in response. “Do you really think I don’t know why I’m staying here?”

“Of course you know…”

Jiang Shi coughed twice, forcing a bitter smile. His one remaining eye blinked, making the hollow socket on the other side seem even more unsettling.

“Jiu-jie, don’t waste your time… I’m beyond saving. I could die any second—or maybe I’ve got a few hours left. Staying here is just a waste for you.”

“But you said you didn’t want to die alone, that it would make you too scared.” Bai Jiu’s tone was flat, her expression indifferent. “I’m here to die with you.”

“Right…” Jiang Shi lowered his head slowly. “Thank you, Jiu-jie… Don’t worry, I’m not in pain now, so I don’t know when I’ll go… It could be the next second, or maybe a few more hours… Just talk to me, okay?”

Bai Jiu nodded. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I…” Jiang Shi thought for a long moment, then shook his head. “Never mind… I’ll just recite something.”

“Go ahead. I’ll listen.” Bai Jiu replied. “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here with you.”

He nodded. “Stories and operas teach virtue, three roads lead to the middle path. Good and evil meet their due reward, the righteous way of the world is… the righteous way is… it’s…”

As he recited, his expression twisted with sorrow, and a single tear rolled down from his remaining eye.

Bai Jiu watched him for a moment before crouching down with a frown, wiping his tear away with her hand.

“Don’t cry, little Jiang Shi,” she said softly. “Your body doesn’t hurt anymore, but crying will make your heart ache.”

Yet Jiang Shi’s tears wouldn’t stop. He lay there, quietly sobbing.

Bai Jiu could only sit beside him, gently stroking his hair. Though they appeared similar in size, at this moment, she seemed like an elder sister comforting a younger brother.

“Little Jiang Shi, don’t cry. I know you’ve always been afraid of pain, but it’s over now. You won’t hurt anymore.” Bai Jiu’s voice trembled slightly.

As she wiped his tears, she suddenly noticed something unusual in the hollow socket where Jiang Shi’s other eye should have been.

Bai Jiu steadied his head, peering closely into the darkness of his missing eye.

And in the next second—an eye materialized out of thin air in that empty socket.