"Looks like something delicious has been prepared," Amon, disguised as Mrs. Welson, said slowly as he glanced around.
Ling Shaomiao felt as if the parasite Amon's eyes were scrutinizing every corner of her room, observing every little detail without missing anything.
She smiled politely. "If you like, you can have some with me right now," she said with a tone of courtesy.
Mrs. Welson shook her head slightly and smiled faintly. "No, thank you. I've already had lunch."
She remained silent for a few moments, then suddenly asked,
"Do you have time this afternoon?"
Ling Shaomiao paused for a moment. A mixture of irritation and caution stirred within her.
"Why does he keep coming to me? Has he suspected something? And even if so… what reason would he have to doubt me? Am I still just an ordinary person, or is there some other purpose?"
But the smile on her face did not change at all. "Yes, I have time," Ling Shaomiao said in a cheerful tone. From the outside, she seemed normal and friendly, but inwardly she had already become alert and annoyed.
"Would you like to go to the opera with me?" Amon, in the form of Mrs. Welson, suddenly asked.
Mrs. Welson smiled slightly, then added, "I already have two tickets… but I haven't decided who to bring with me."
Ling Shaomiao paused for a moment. Immediately, a signal of caution went off in her mind.
"The opera? Why suddenly take me to the opera?"
Yet no discomfort showed on her face. She smiled lightly and said, "Of course… but today?"
Mrs. Welson nodded slowly. "Yes, this afternoon. I thought I could show the new neighbor some of the city's fine spots."
Ling Shaomiao nodded in agreement. "Then it would be my pleasure," she said politely. But in her mind, she thought in a cold tone—Amon… what exactly are you trying to do?
Amon, in the form of Mrs. Welson, gradually looked at the large gown placed in the adjacent room, his eyes showing a mixture of curiosity and admiration.
"Are you a fashion designer?" he asked calmly.
Ling Shaomiao gave a slight smile. "Yes, though I haven't gained much recognition yet. I need to try harder."
Klein sat silently inside the wardrobe. In the surrounding quiet, no sound reached his ears. He thought to himself, Why did my compatriot suddenly tell me to hide here? Who was at the door?
The parasite Amon, in the form of Mrs. Welson, gradually took his leave. After waiting silently for a while, Ling Shaomiao ensured he had really gone. Then she carefully took the food plates and the large wardrobe out from her space ring and arranged them in their original places.
She then opened the wardrobe door and looked at Klein. With a hint of relief in her eyes, she asked, "Are you alright?"
Klein slowly emerged from the wardrobe and replied, "Yes, I'm fine. Why are you being so cautious?"
Ling Shaomiao smiled lightly. "It's good to be cautious, especially when unexpected guests arrive."
Klein quietly nodded, indicating that he understood the importance of her words.
Ling Shaomiao pretended to be slightly curious and said , "I am Ling Shaomiao, from Shanghai. Aaa... Ling Shaomiao is too formal; you can call me Miao Miao."
Klein tilted his head slightly and replied , "Zhu Mingrui, from Beijing."
Ling Shaomiao maintained a façade of curiosity as she looked at Klein, as if asking such a question was not merely polite curiosity, but an expression of her desire to learn unknown information. "So, when did you first arrive in this world?" she asked softly, with a faint smile. She already knew the answer.
Klein, with a trace of curiosity and hidden caution in his eyes, countered, "June 28. And you?"
Ling Shaomiao kept an imperceptibly mysterious expression and answered, "The day you first met me, October 16."
Ling Shaomiao took a deep breath and began, "When I woke up, I found myself in a white porcelain tub. As soon as I got out of the bathroom, suddenly a fierce, strange creature attacked me." She had decided to explain it this way—when dealing with a Transmigrator like Klein, describing events responsibly was part of her duty. No, it's not a duty, it's acting. I was supposed to be in the entertainment industry.
Klein listened quietly, then in a cool tone said, "My situation was worse than yours. The original owner of this body committed suicide."
Klein's eyes lit up with curiosity as he asked, "Do you know that Emperor Roselle was a Transmigrator?"
Ling Shaomiao gave a small, dramatic exclamation and said, "I only know his name and his great discoveries. That means he 'borrowed' models of modern-world technology."
"Do you know about Roselle's diary?" Klein asked.
"Diary? I… I don't," Ling Shaomiao replied, pretending not to know.
"It's written in Chinese; you can collect it and take a look," Klein advised.
Klein leaned back slightly in his chair, calmly waving his hand. "Thank you, Miss Nightshade. Today's meal was truly excellent."
Ling Shaomiao smiled lightly and replied, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Moriarty." Both she and Klein maintained their natural demeanor.
Klein stood up and, before opening the door, slowly glanced at Ling Shaomiao. A silent wave of thought passed through his mind—Does she know anything about the Beyonder?
There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, a slight caution in his expression. Then he slowly bid farewell, without making a sound, as if measuring his thoughts with each step.
Ling Shaomiao stood by the door for a moment after closing it. I hope Klein doesn't notice Amon.
After Klein left, Ling Shaomiao stood by the door for a while longer. Once she was certain the corridor was quiet, she slowly closed the door.
Silence descended in the room again.
She tidied up the table and then gradually moved toward her room. After a short while, she took out the powders and chemical powders she had bought in the morning.
On the table, she placed a small glass bowl, a measuring spoon, and a thin glass rod.
Ling Shaomiao carefully measured the powders. Several fine powders in white, gray, and light yellow were mixed one by one. She slowly stirred the mixture with the glass rod.
After a while, the powders melted into a clear, green liquid, emitting a faint, sharp smell.
Ling Shaomiao calmly gazed at it.
She took out a small glass vial and carefully poured the liquid into it, sealing it with a cork.
When held in the light, the liquid shimmered strangely. It seemed harmless at first glance, but its true nature was entirely different.
Ling Shaomiao held the vial for a while, then placed it in her space ring. Now, she only needed to find the right opportunity to put it into the bottles of wine belonging to the parasite Amon.