MOF Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Painting within a painting, entering the painting to see the painted woman… This isn’t just entering a painting, it’s practically…

Xie Yiling’s chest was filled with a ball of air he couldn’t expel, and he guessed his face was probably flushed red from holding his breath. Just as he was trying to slowly exhale through the gaps in his lips, he heard Nangong Ci’s voice.

Even if he was about to suffocate in the next second, Xie Yiling still chose to strain to get his head closer, thinking: This isn’t just entering a painting, it’s practically entering the underworld.

Unexpectedly, as he moved, the mud beneath him became even stickier.

Nangong Ci followed the scent and pressed closer, touching the foul-smelling mud. He gently brushed it away with his lips, feeling the mud fall away in rustling sounds. He repeated this action over and over, until he touched Xie Yiling’s tightly closed lips.

Nangong Ci painstakingly cleared away the large amount of mud blocking Xie Yiling’s mouth and nose, opening a passage for him to breathe, “Xie Ci, breathe.”

Hearing these words, Xie Yiling’s first action was to spit out all the mud in his mouth, then he took two deep breaths. The air accumulated in his chest was replaced with fresh air, and the stuffy pain that had been building up was mostly relieved.

“Were we buried alive?” The remaining mud in his mouth entered his throat as Xie Yiling swallowed, causing him to feel itchy and cough uncontrollably.

“Yes.” Nangong Ci’s tone sounded relatively calm, “In this painting, we can’t use our spiritual power.”

“Then what do we do?” Xie Yiling tried to struggle, but all the force he exerted was bounced back by the mud surrounding him. The more he struggled, the tighter the restraints became. Not only that, but he also felt his body begin to sink gradually.

Nangong Ci’s forehead was pressed against Xie Yiling’s, so he naturally felt his sinking. He panicked for a moment, and before the mud could block Xie Yiling’s mouth and nose, he forcefully kissed his lips.

The mud continued to roll, surrounding the two heads barely exposed above the ground, squeezing their cheeks and surging towards their mouths. Xie Yiling only dared to open a tiny gap, drawing the oxygen Nangong Ci was passing over from the seam of their lips, breathing in small sips.

The two men’s faces were pressed together. Nangong Ci’s originally warm breath became scalding hot as their lips and tongues met, burning Xie Yiling’s lips a bloody red. Worried that Xie Yiling couldn’t breathe, he passed the air with some impatience, but it still couldn’t keep up with the fact that the mud beneath him was sinking faster and faster. Originally facing each other, they were now one above the other, and they were forced to separate.

Nangong Ci lowered his head, chasing after Xie Yiling’s lips, unwilling to let go, but the range his body could move had already reached its limit. He struggled forcefully, not forgetting to comfort him, “Xie Ci, don’t be afraid, this is just a dream.”

If you ignored the panic in his tone, perhaps these words would have been more reassuring.

Almost as soon as he separated from Nangong Ci, Xie Yiling was forced to swallow a handful of mud, then layer upon layer, continuously sticking to his face. Listening to the change in Nangong Ci’s tone, before his mouth was completely sealed, he pushed the mud out with his tongue while reminding him, “Nangong Ci, don’t… forcefully use spiritual power, this painting probably has some mechanism, be careful of being… backlashed…”

The mud covered his nose, then his ears, and finally submerged the top of his head, burying his words along with it.

All the surrounding air instantly solidified and became still. Xie Yiling felt himself fall into an endless darkness and suffocation. At this moment, the mud beneath him was like a man-eating swamp, and once it smelled the scent of flesh and blood, it would cling to it tightly, constantly pulling people down, until they were deep within its stomach.

He used the last wisp of breath and opened his eyes before suffocating to death.

What came into view was the familiar arrangement of the room. Xie Yiling turned his head and saw that he and Nangong Ci were lying on the bed, safe and sound, and unharmed. He ran his tongue around in his mouth, but couldn’t find a single grain of mud.

Xie Yiling quickly got up and saw Nangong Ci with his eyes closed, his brows furrowed, a sign of a nightmare.

“Nangong Ci?” he called softly, not daring to wake him rashly. Unexpectedly, in the next second after he called, Nangong Ci opened his eyes.

Xie Yiling breathed a sigh of relief in his heart. He leaned over, observed Nangong Ci’s expression, and asked with concern, “How are you? Did anything happen?”

Nangong Ci didn’t speak, he just suddenly hugged him tightly, the force was even no less than the man-eating mud pit in the dream.

“It’s okay, we’re out.” Xie Yiling endured the pain of being hugged tightly and patted him on the back, “Nangong Ci, now we have to go see Junior Brother Gu and A Si. If there are no accidents, they should also be inside the painting.”

The imprisoned arms gradually loosened, Nangong Ci’s eyes drooped, as if a trace of lingering fear had fallen. “Okay.” He let go of Xie Yiling and said in a normal tone, “Let’s go take a look.”

The candle in the room was more than halfway burned, and a circle of grease had accumulated on the candlestick. Xie Yiling glanced at the painting on the wall and left the room with Nangong Ci.

Gu Huanzhi and A Si lived in the room opposite theirs. The corridor was empty. Xie Yiling carefully pushed open the door, and the two quickly walked in. As he expected, Gu Huanzhi and A Si were slumped on the table and lying on the bed, respectively, both in a deep sleep.

Xie Yiling lightened his footsteps and first walked slowly towards A Si. Unexpectedly, just as he approached the bed, A Si suddenly sat up, rubbed his eyes, and after seeing that it was him, closed them again, muttering, “Xie Ci, aren’t you not sleeping with me? Why are you here? Am I dreaming?”

“A Si, are you not asleep?” Xie Yiling was a little puzzled and reached out to stop him from lying down.

A Si was so sleepy that he couldn’t even open his eyes, but he was being helped up, so he was in a bad mood. “I was asleep, asleep! You came over and woke me up.”

“You didn’t enter the painting?” Xie Yiling asked again, “Did you have a dream? Did you dream about anything strange?”

“No, no.” A Si shook his head repeatedly, “Let me sleep, I want to sleep.”

Hearing this, Xie Yiling put his head back on the pillow. A Si immediately quieted down and fell asleep again.

After finishing this, Xie Yiling looked at Nangong Ci and saw that he was staring at Gu Huanzhi, so he asked, “A Si didn’t enter the painting, why is that?”

“I don’t know.” Nangong Ci thought for a while and said, “Probably because of his identity as a Five Ghost. He doesn’t belong to ordinary people, nor does he belong to cultivators.”

Xie Yiling was thoughtful, “It sounds like this painting also has conditions for taking people in.”

Nangong Ci said in a low voice, “The painting doesn’t take in its own kind.”

“Then Junior Brother Gu—”

Xie Yiling quickly walked closer, reached out and turned Gu Huanzhi’s face to take a look. Seeing that his expression was very similar to Nangong Ci’s earlier, he thought he had entered the painting and asked, “Should we wake him up?”

“Yes.” After Nangong Ci finished speaking, he turned Bìluò, the Spiritual Sword, and the azure sword hilt with cloud patterns pressed against Gu Huanzhi’s shoulder, startling him awake.

Xie Yiling quickly withdrew his hand that was still pinching Gu Huanzhi’s face.

“Who! Who is pretending to be a ghost in the dark?!” Gu Huanzhi shouted and stood up from the stool, his eyes blacked out for a moment. He bent over and propped himself on the table, waiting for his vision to clear before looking around. But he found that the surroundings were no longer the dark, misty forest, but the bright inn.

Nangong Ci and Xie Yiling stood on either side of him, like guardian gods guarding him.

“Immortal Lord Fufeng, Senior Brother Xie.” Gu Huanzhi closed his eyes and sat back on the stool as if all the strength had been drained from his body, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

Seeing this, Nangong Ci sheathed his sword. Xie Yiling asked, “Junior Brother Gu, did you also enter the painting? What did you dream about?”

Gu Huanzhi calmed his emotions, his face a little ugly, “I, I dreamed that I was in a forest with thick fog, someone was crying, no, laughing. No, no, it seems like there were many people, but I couldn’t see them.”

Xie Yiling stared at him for two seconds and sat down, “The dreams that Senior Nangong and I had are different from yours. It seems that the people who enter the painting don’t necessarily all meet.”

“What do you mean?” Gu Huanzhi seized the key point in his words and asked, “Could it be that you and Immortal Lord Fufeng not only had the same dream, but also met in the dream? Then what did you dream about?”

Xie Yiling looked at Nangong Ci with a somewhat awkward expression. He was silent for a moment, and vaguely said, “It’s nothing. Let’s talk about what we know now. This painting is hanging in the room to allow guests to enter the dream, that is, the painting, while sleeping. Who designed it this way? What is their purpose in doing so? Is the person behind it the owner of the inn, or the painter?”

“The painter is more suspicious.” Nangong Ci also sat down, “After all, he is the one who made the painting.”

Gu Huanzhi said, “But if the owner of the inn doesn’t recognize the goods, or doesn’t like it, and doesn’t ask someone to copy it and hang it in the room, this kind of thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“That’s right,” The fatigue brought about by the previous influence of the dream was still there, and as soon as Xie Yiling touched the table, he couldn’t help but support his chin with the back of his hand to relieve the pressure, “So the owner of the inn must like this painting, no, liking is not enough, he must be obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?” Gu Huanzhi’s jumbled thoughts were suddenly straightened out by this sentence, “Senior Brother Xie, do you mean that the painter used the painting to bewilder the owner of the inn, manipulating his will and making him do these things?”

He clapped his hands, his tone filled with the joy of sudden enlightenment, “In this case, the painter doesn’t even need to show up, he can directly control the owner to achieve his goals without anyone knowing.”

A Si was awakened by Gu Huanzhi’s crisp applause and jumped up from the bed. The hair behind his head was tied into a small braid, and if the hair in front was combed, it could reach his eyebrows, or his ears, but now it was messy after he slept on it.

The corners of A Si’s mouth turned down, and he was about to yell, but he saw that Nangong Ci was staring at him, his eyes neither cold nor warm. His back inexplicably cooled, his voice stuck in his throat, and he slowly got out of bed, walked over and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Not going back to sleep?” Xie Yiling grabbed him and used his hand to press down the few hairs that were sticking up.

A Si shook his head, obediently sat down, crossed his arms and lay on the table, listening to them speak.

“Then what is the purpose of this painter?” Xie Yiling continued, “After we go in, although we will be in danger, we are not really injured.”

Nangong Ci tapped the table lightly with his finger. As soon as Xie Yiling saw this action, he knew what he was thinking, “The conditions we talked about before. The fact that we came out safely this time should be because we didn’t touch the conditions for the painting to kill people after we went in.”

“Must it be killing people?” Gu Huanzhi asked in confusion, “Maybe it’s other purposes?”

After he asked, Nangong Ci stood up and walked towards the wall. Gu Huanzhi’s room was arranged in the same way as Xie Yiling’s, and there was naturally a painting on the wall.

Seeing this, Xie Yiling also stood up, followed Nangong Ci, wanting to know what he had discovered.