DLMSWSHH Chapter 36

TL: Hua

Chapter 36: Exploration

“Huh?”

Ye Qing was still looking down at the book. She replied casually: “Yeah, I can read it.”

Only then did she notice Zhong Ming’s gaze. Seeing him staring at her with a dead-serious expression, she explained: “Ah… you mean the language?” She held the book up, pointing to the text: “This should be a variation of a precursor to German from a specific period. I studied Germanic languages before; this is similar. So I can more or less make it out.”

Zhong Ming’s eyes widened slightly.

Seeing him stay silent, Ye Qing thought she had weirded him out and laughed sheepishly: “Sorry, it’s a bit strange, right? Most people don’t study such niche languages… I-I just like researching random things.”

She looked at Zhong Ming, bit her lip, and said somewhat hesitantly: “Actually… there’s something a little wrong with my brain.” She pointed to her temple. “My brain structure is abnormal, which causes certain areas to be hyperactive. These areas constantly store and compress information.”

She pressed her lips together. “To put it simply, I have hyperthymesia.”

Zhong Ming’s brow furrowed slightly.

Ye Qing continued: “Because of this condition, I can learn very efficiently, so I didn’t think it was all bad… but because there’s too much stored information, my brain is constantly in a retrieval state. It doesn’t even stop while I sleep, so I’ve always had sleep issues.”

She sighed. Hearing this, Zhong Ming recalled Ye Qing using sleep aids during the game.

Ye Qing smiled. “I didn’t expect that after becoming an NPC, the symptoms would actually improve. I guess it’s a blessing in disguise.”

Zhong Ming remained silent. Then he looked down at the book under her hand: “…Which is to say,” he looked at Ye Qing, “this language actually existed in history? It’s not made up?”

Ye Qing frowned and looked back at the book. “It should be. Although the language I studied differs slightly from the one in this book, based on the grammatical rigor and word structure, it should be a variant of a precursor to Germanic languages.”

Zhong Ming held his breath. He lowered his eyes, remembering the stories the Duke had told him in the forest about his childhood.

If the language in this “haunted house” was real, could the Duke be a person who once truly existed?

He had parents, a childhood… Perhaps a long time ago, he was also human.

At this thought, the image of the tentacle that had wrapped around his waist a long time ago flashed through his mind, and he couldn’t help but shiver.

Now… he clearly was not.

Seeing him lost in thought, Ye Qing asked, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Zhong Ming snapped out of it: “It’s nothing.” He looked at her: “Do you know exactly what era this language appeared in?”

If the Duke were once a real human, he should have his own story. Zhong Ming frowned; if he could find out the Duke’s name, he might be able to deduce more information. After all, there were only so many noble surnames in Western culture, and they were often interconnected.

Ye Qing thought for a moment. “It’s hard to tell just from the language. But if there are other supplementary materials, I might be able to figure it out… For example, books describing history, culture, or even natural geography would be helpful.”

Books on history and culture… Zhong Ming suddenly thought of the row of bookshelves in the Duke’s fourth-floor study and the thick, neatly organized volumes there.

“I can find a way to get the books.”

Zhong Ming lowered his eyes in thought. Suddenly, he paused and slowly turned to Ye Qing.

“Wait.” Zhong Ming frowned slightly. “Aren’t you studying animal behavior? Why do you know about European history?”

Ye Qing blinked. “My undergraduate degree was in Ancient European Literature, Art, and Religious History.”

Zhong Ming: “…”

Seeing the young man’s stunned expression, Ye Qing’s eyes crinkled with amusement. She seemed to understand why the manservant named Li Yizhi often teased him.

It was a bit like having an elegant Persian cat at home. Usually, it maintains a cold, aloof posture, tempting the humans, but after accidentally falling off the couch, it suddenly shows a dazed, adorable expression that makes the humans unable to resist kissing it until it meows for mercy.

“So that’s how it is.” Zhong Ming rubbed his temples, giving up on trying to understand how she had crossed over from humanities to animal behavior. He whispered, “Anyway, I’ll see if I can get some books out today.”

Ye Qing was surprised. “Really? From where?”

Zhong Ming lowered his hand and gave her a small smile.

At night, Zhong Ming carried a tray up the stairs.

A deep, heavy darkness had blanketed the entire mansion. He walked slowly up the steps to the fourth floor, arriving at the study door with today’s dessert and black tea. On the tray, the tea inside the delicate porcelain cup was steaming, the vapor seemingly thicker than usual.

Zhong Ming pushed the door open and stepped into the study.

The room was silent. Zhong Ming looked up and saw that the red velvet chair behind the desk was empty.

…Where was he?

Zhong Ming placed the tray on the table and looked around in confusion. However, he couldn’t see the man anywhere.

Strange. Zhong Ming stood there, furrowing his brow, unsure of what to do.

In the past, Zhong Ming would have simply left the tray and departed if the Duke wasn’t there. But today, he had a head full of plans yet to be set in motion, so he remained standing there, hesitating.

Just then, a deep voice resonated behind him: “I’m here.”

Zhong Ming whipped around to see the man stepping out from the shadows between the bookshelves, holding a volume in his hand.

Zhong Ming was nearly scared out of his wits. He pursed his lips, looking at the man whose body was half-hidden in the darkness, thinking to himself: And you say you don’t like lurking in the shadows?

“Is there something you need?”

The Duke remained looking down at the book in his hands, turning a page.

Zhong Ming understood the subtext. The Duke was asking why he had stayed there waiting even though he had seen the room was empty.

He paused, then lightly lifted his eyelids to look at the man leaning against the shelf.

“If there isn’t anything, am I not allowed to speak with you, Your Grace?”

At this, the Duke paused and looked up from his book to meet his gaze.

Zhong Ming’s eyelashes fluttered. Seeing the man look over, he lowered his eyes, his voice softening.

“I thought… we were friends now.”

His voice trailed off, almost inaudible. The Duke, however, froze completely.

After a few seconds of silence, he placed the book back on the shelf and stepped out of the darkness, his pitch-black eyes looking down at Zhong Ming.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

He walked to Zhong Ming’s side and extended his right hand. Zhong Ming looked up slightly at the man’s pale hand, hesitated for a few seconds, and then gently placed his own hand upon it.

The Duke led him to the desk and sat him down.

Zhong Ming sat on a low stool by the desk. He watched the man turn, rest his elbows on his knees, and lean in, his broad shoulders dropping as he brought their eyes to the same level.

“What is it? Did something unhappy happen today?”

Zhong Ming crossed his hands over his lap, looking down at the man’s suit trousers. Given the Duke’s height, his legs were naturally very long; in this posture, their knees were almost touching.

Zhong Ming looked up and shook his head. “No. Today was a very happy day.”

The Duke nodded. “That is good.” He looked down, then suddenly remarked, “Albert caused quite a stir today. Did he make things difficult for you?”

Zhong Ming’s eyes widened slightly before he shook his head. “No.” He hesitated, then said, “The Young Master just isn’t used to someone new taking care of him. Ye Qing… is also a newcomer.”

He looked up at the Duke. “I think it would be better if I continued to look after him.”

His gentle voice drifted through the air.

The Duke didn’t say anything immediately. He straightened his back and leaned back slightly. “Very well.”

Zhong Ming was a bit surprised he had agreed so quickly; a trace of astonishment leaked into his expression.

The Duke smiled at him, the faint lines of a grin appearing briefly around his mouth.

“If you ever find caring for him tedious, come to me again.”

It truly seemed as though he was making Zhong Ming’s mood his top priority.

Zhong Ming’s breath hitched slightly. “Thank you.” He paused, then continued, “Young Master Albert… wants me to move to the first floor. Into Madam Sharon’s old room.”

The Duke was about to reach for the teacup on the table. Hearing this, his hand stopped. He tilted his head, his gaze settling on Zhong Ming.

Zhong Ming felt an inexplicable shiver under that stare and instinctively lowered his eyes.

After a long moment, the man’s deep voice spoke: “Do you dislike the attic?”

Zhong Ming blinked, remembering that room where every detail seemed carefully considered. He looked up.

“That… no, it’s not that—”

“Then why do you want to move to the first floor?” the Duke asked.

“I thought it might be more convenient for looking after the Young Master,” Zhong Ming replied.

The Duke nodded as if understanding the request. Then he turned back and reached for the teacup, saying simultaneously: “No.”

His posture was relaxed and his tone was casual, yet it carried a weight that invited no rebuttal.

Zhong Ming’s eyes widened slightly and he bit his lip.

He wanted to ask why, but seeing the Duke reaching for the tea, he suddenly held his breath.

In the next instant, just as the Duke’s fingers brushed the handle of the cup, his hand suddenly jerked.

Clatter.

The teacup tipped over onto the porcelain saucer with a sharp sound.

Watching the reddish-brown tea spill slowly from the rim and the hot steam rise into the air, Zhong Ming’s eyes went wide.

He exhaled slowly, suppressing his accelerating heartbeat.

Then, Zhong Ming suddenly bolted up from his chair, bowing his head toward the Duke. “Your Grace! Is… is the tea too hot?”

His face went pale as he looked in a panic at the Duke’s right hand, which was frozen in mid-air. “Did you get burned?”

Zhong Ming stepped forward anxiously, his eyes fixed on the man’s slender fingers, on which a patch of red swelling had appeared.

“…I-I’m so sorry.”

Zhong Ming’s face grew even paler. In his panic, his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings. He whispered, “My… my mother once said that when you get burned, pinching your earlobe helps.”

The Duke listened calmly, appearing not the least bit angry about being scalded.

His gaze lingered on Zhong Ming’s panicked face for a moment. Then he looked down and rubbed his reddened finger.

“Lower your head.”

Zhong Ming froze, looking at the Duke, unsure of what he intended to do.

But since he had just “made a mistake,” he obediently leaned down.

The next moment, the Duke reached out, brushed aside the hair at his temple, and pinched Zhong Ming’s earlobe.

Zhong Ming’s eyes went wide.

The man’s fingertip was slightly hot and calloused as he gently squeezed the cool earlobe.

“It does seem a bit better.”

The Duke’s voice sounded perfectly solemn.

Zhong Ming: “…”

He was keenly aware of the flirtatious intent hidden beneath the man’s serious exterior. His brow twitched.

Fortunately, the Duke withdrew his hand after only a second.

Zhong Ming looked up at the Duke, who had a faint trace of a smile, then turned toward the tea spilled all over the table. “I… I’ll clean it up.”

He moved to pick up the fallen cup, but the Duke immediately caught his wrist and pulled him back. “You know it’s hot, yet you still reach for it.”

Zhong Ming’s eyelashes trembled. He didn’t pull away from the Duke’s grip, but looked up at him. “…I am very sorry for hurting you, Your Grace.”

At this, the Duke looked down and chuckled. “It is a trivial matter.”

On his right hand, his thumb brushed over the burn, and the redness vanished instantly. Holding Zhong Ming with his left hand, the Duke looked up at him from the chair. The flowing light from the lamp slid across the bridge of his high nose, illuminating his striking Germanic features. When the man smiled, the sharp lines of his face softened, making him look like an exceedingly handsome European aristocrat. He said: “Are we not friends? There is no need for such formality.”

Zhong Ming’s breathing hitched for a moment. Then he slowly relaxed, following the pressure on his hand to sit back down on the stool.

At that moment, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that the tea spilled on the desk had vanished.

Zhong Ming blinked slowly, withdrawing his gaze and letting it rest hesitantly on the Duke’s ringed right hand.

“I remember… before, you have—” Zhong Ming paused, finding it a bit hard to say. “T-that thing.”

The Duke raised an eyebrow. “What thing?”

…He was clearly playing dumb. Zhong Ming pursed his lips and looked down.

The Duke curled his lip into a smile. “I thought you didn’t like the tentacles? So I tucked them away.”

Zhong Ming fell silent.

Aside from that first time, Zhong Ming really hadn’t seen the man’s tentacles again. But he didn’t believe for a second that the Duke hadn’t used them during this time.

He looked at the shadow cast on the carpet at the man’s feet. There was nothing unusual there.

The Duke’s mastery over his power was clearly far more seasoned than that of Joan or Albert.

“What are you thinking about?”

As Zhong Ming drifted off, the Duke’s voice pulled him back.

Zhong Ming blinked and looked up. Seeing the man watching him, he paused and said, “I would like to borrow some books, if I may?”

Zhong Ming lowered his eyes slightly. “Working here every day is a bit dull.”

“You may,” the Duke replied.

He looked up at the bookshelves. “Though these books might be a bit boring for a child of your age.”

Zhong Ming, feeling slightly offended at being grouped with Albert: “…”

“It’s fine,” Zhong Ming whispered. “I can understand them.”

The Duke looked back, his expression shifting slightly, his voice softening: “Is that so? How impressive.”

Zhong Ming: “…”

He felt even more speechless. He hadn’t meant for it to sound like he wanted to be coddled.

“Pick whatever you like from the shelves,” the Duke said. “You don’t need to return them when you’re finished. You may keep them with you.”

Zhong Ming was once again struck by the Duke’s incredibly indulgent attitude.

He looked up, his gaze falling on the man’s pale face. A strand of brown hair had escaped his slicked-back style and hung over his temple.

The Duke was remarkably handsome. His brown hair and sculpted features brought to mind a noble youth galloping through the Alps, surrounded by a retinue.

Only those black eyes were out of place.

They should have been emerald green, or perhaps azure.

So Zhong Ming thought.

At any rate, they shouldn’t be the abyss-like black they were now.

“I… have one more thing I want to ask.”

Zhong Ming looked into those black eyes and spoke softly: “My memory seems to have some problems. Can you tell me what happened before I arrived here?”

His confused and soft voice drifted through the air.

In the next instant, Zhong Ming acutely noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere surrounding the Duke.

The man’s movements stalled, and then he slowly leaned back against the chair.

His face moved out of the lamplight, vanishing into the darkness.

Zhong Ming watched as the man’s right hand rested on the wooden armrest, his pale, slender fingers tapping against it.

“That is a question I cannot answer.”

Zhong Ming’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

The Duke’s face was shrouded in shadow, making his expression unreadable, yet Zhong Ming could feel the man’s gaze fixed intently upon him. He continued: “And it is something you can’t know.”

His tone carried an air of absolute, unquestionable finality. That soft, paternal persona seemed to vanish in an instant. The Duke appeared to have reverted to that bone-chilling monster lurking in the shadows.

Zhong Ming gave an imperceptible shiver.

He lowered his head and murmured, “I… I understand.”

As he moved, Zhong Ming’s jet-black ponytail slid off his shoulder and draped across his chest, the ends swaying gently in the air.

“It’s okay if you can’t tell me. I was just asking out of curiosity.”

His demeanor was soft and obedient, appearing as though he had merely experienced a momentary lapse of confusion regarding his identity and had already pushed it aside. Zhong Ming stood up from the stool and addressed the Duke.

“Then I’ll go see what books there are.”

The change in topic was somewhat abrupt. However, children are known for their flighty whims, and the atmosphere around the Duke softened. He watched the young man’s light-footed figure, his hands clasped together, admiring Zhong Ming’s graceful profile as he looked up to grab the book from a distance in the shadows.

Meanwhile, Zhong Ming’s eyes swept rapidly over the spines on the shelves, picking out volumes related to human history and culture.

For a time, the room fell silent, one picking books, the other watching him pick them.

After an unknown amount of time, there were two soft, hesitant knocks at the main door.

The person knocking seemed very reluctant, waiting a long while before finally speaking.

A woman’s voice, tinged with fear, rang out from outside: “Y-your Grace…”

Ye Qing swallowed hard and, facing the study door, said in a trembling voice: “Young Master Albert is throwing a fit because he wants a bedtime story. He insists on seeing Zhong Ming.”

Hearing her words, the Duke’s brow furrowed.

At the sound of his name, Zhong Ming clutched the books to his chest and turned back toward the Duke.

The Duke withdrew his gaze from the door and tapped his right hand on the armrest. Seeing Zhong Ming looking over, his expression softened, and he gave the young man a dismissive wave: “Go on.”

His tone was like that of a parent sending a child off to go play with a friend.

Upon hearing this, Zhong Ming smiled slightly and nodded. He didn’t even bother with formalities anymore; clutching his book, he turned and walked straight out.

Outside the door, Ye Qing let out a massive sigh of relief when she saw Zhong Ming emerge from the study unscathed.

“Let’s talk once we’re further away,” Zhong Ming whispered.

It wasn’t until they reached the basement that Zhong Ming handed her the books. “I found these. Take some time to look through them.”

Ye Qing took the books, flipped through them briefly, and nodded. “Okay.”

Then she looked up, asking curiously, “Did your plan work? How did the Duke react?”

The light-hearted, naive expression was gone from Zhong Ming’s face now. He glanced at Ye Qing: “His hand turned red from the heat. He’s no different from a human.”

His actions today had been a deliberate test to see how the Duke’s physical form differed from that of an ordinary person. At least judging by this one incident, the Duke’s body still retained human characteristics to a great extent.

Ye Qing covered her mouth in shock. “Really? The boss’s hand actually gets scalded? Just how hot was that tea?”

Zhong Ming lowered his eyes. “Tea alone wouldn’t have been enough. I boiled the teacup in scalding water three times before serving it.”

Ye Qing: “…”

She looked at the composed Zhong Ming with a completely new perspective.

The angel suddenly turned into a femme fatale.