Chapter 65

Chapter 65

The room was dimly lit, with only the artificial moonlight slanting through the window, casting a glossy, frost-like sheen on the floor.

Eve stood by the window, tapping her ear comm as she messaged Lorin. The young mistress seemed to be online all day, replying instantly no matter when a message was sent. Behind her, Lorca leaned against the headboard, engrossed in a book. From his vantage point, he could only see Eve admiring the view outside.

This moon was a specially crafted suspended artificial construct by the Oliver Family. As night fell, the sharp Gothic black castle was bathed in silvery moonlight, while the distant rolling mountains and dense forests were shrouded in this faint luminescence, as if cloaked in a thin veil.

Mysterious, yet fabricated.

On the capital planet, where lights blazed day and night without rest, such a tranquil and unique scene was indeed rare. So, even though Lorca wanted to say something to Eve, he held back his immediate urge.

He always prided himself on having patience.

After a brief agreement, Eve deactivated the glow on her ear comm and turned to observe Lorca, who was leisurely reading.

It wasn’t easy—despite enduring bone-deep headaches, he could still pretend nothing was wrong, sitting there calmly with his book.

*Rustle.*

Lorca turned another page.

The expensive paper book emitted a cool, faintly musty scent of ink. The yellowed pages were illustrated with colorful depictions of heaven and golden apple trees—it was a religious story picture book, which seemed somewhat out of place in the hands of someone Lorca’s age, especially since he wasn’t religious.

In an era where even celestial bodies could be dissected, no one believed in the existence of God anymore. Instead, people put their faith in tangible gods they could see, such as power or science.

On the bedside table stood three vials of medicine: one deep purple, a normal sleep aid; one light blue, used to improve and regulate Lorca’s constitution; and another familiar brown one, a slow-release formula Eve had learned from Agnes. After a series of component and alchemical analyses, she concluded the formula could help stabilize the spiritual state, thereby alleviating headaches and inhibiting the spread of toxins.

After consulting with Ludwig, Eve went to the lab to prepare today’s doses, then brought them to Lorca’s room in clear glass vials.

Memories of the young master’s drug abuse during the "Venom Fang" period still lingered in her mind. Out of caution, she had come specifically to supervise his medication.

Long before she arrived, Lorca had already washed up. He now wore a thin dark gray sleeping robe, leaning against black pillows, which made his pale, sickly skin appear even more pronounced, as if he might at any moment treat the jet-black bedding as a tomb, closing his eyes for eternal rest.

"It’s half past ten," Eve announced matter-of-factly, glancing at the time on her terminal. "You should take your medicine and go to sleep."

Hearing this, Lorca stopped turning the pages. He looked up at Eve intently, then let his gaze drift to the three vials on the table.

Though he didn’t speak, his eyes clearly conveyed protest—after all, he used to only take one vial a day.

""

Eve met his gaze for a moment, then put away the purple vial, leaving the other two firmly on the table.

The meaning was clear: he could skip the sleep aid, but the other two were non-negotiable.

Lorca continued to stare at her. Eve tried to avoid or ignore it but failed. Eventually, she had to take a mint candy from her pocket and place it on the table—the same kind she had eaten after dinner. The butler, seeing she liked it, had given her another bag.

No matter how miraculous alchemical potions were, they were still medicine. How good could they taste?

Offering one candy was the extent of her generosity.

Looking at the round, light green-wrapped candy—even given to her by his own butler—and then at the silent but clearly somewhat resigned alchemist, Lorca gave a soft laugh. He put away the book, picked up the vials, and drank them in one go, then placed the candy in a drawer.

As he set the book down, Eve’s eyes unconsciously followed his hand. It was the same black-covered book with no title, which looked very familiar. Noticing her curiosity, Lorca swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and asked, "Are you curious about this book?"

"Sort of. But it has no external information, which makes it seem mysterious, so I got a little curious."

Eve spoke honestly. Human curiosity could be quite flexible—sometimes, there was no real reason to know something, but the more it was kept hidden, the more curious one became.

"If you’re curious, you can open it and take a look. It’s not confidential," Lorca said gently, pushing the book toward her.

Since the owner said so, Eve didn’t hesitate. She picked up the book, flipped through a few pages, and realized it was just a myth story picture book. She then set it down, losing interest.

She lacked artistic inclination and had no religious beliefs, so subjects like angels, demons, or the netherworld held little appeal for her. She only skimmed briefly.

She noticed the edges of the pages were slightly worn from repeated handling, suggesting the owner read it often.

So Lorca likes this kind of stuff, Eve thought to herself. She had assumed such a book in his hands was mostly for show, given how rational he seemed—not the type to be interested in these stories. But judging by the wear on the pages, it was clear he genuinely enjoyed them.

Lorca remained leaning against the headboard. The two vials of medicine took effect quickly, and he regained some energy. He watched Eve with interest and asked, "What do you think of this book?"

Muttering to herself about respecting the beliefs of religious comrades, Eve replied, "It’s fine—freedom of belief. But I didn’t expect you to like myths."

"Oh... then what did you think I’d like?"

The question stumped Eve. She studied Lorca carefully—his thick black hair ruled out the sciences first. Then there was his sickly demeanor, long hair, sensitive nature, and somewhat artistic youth vibe.

Though these were all superficial judgments, she had to admit he seemed like someone who would enjoy literature, history, and philosophy from the inside out.

Her meaning was mostly conveyed through her eyes.

Lorca smiled and suddenly said, "So, aren’t you going to explain why you suddenly made me lose consciousness this afternoon?"

"Does there need to be a reason?"

The question didn’t even require Eve to come up with an excuse beforehand. She said seriously, "Medical matters aren't for you to question. It’s for your own good."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt they might have sounded too harsh, so she added, "It’s not about doing anything bad to you. It’s just that you’re easier to examine when you’re asleep, and you usually have too much mental strain. More sleep is good for your physical and mental health."

This was the truth.

Eve’s Spiritual State Ability worked through synchronization, and since it was oriented toward Mind Control, it was much easier to manage when the other person was in an unconscious state rather than fully aware. Plus, sleeping provided a temporary respite from headaches—serving dual purposes, convenient for both sides. Why not?

As the Chief Alchemist, Eve thus decisively made the best decision for her patient without feeling the need to discuss it.

She glanced at her terminal again, clapped once, and said, "Alright, it’s really getting late. You should go to sleep. Your body can’t handle staying up."

How pitiful—in his teens, the most vibrant years of youth, yet he couldn’t even handle late nights.

She reached out her finger, but Lorca dodged: "Wait a moment."

"What now?"

Eve was getting annoyed, but meeting those serene green eyes, she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him and softened her tone: "Do you have any other questions or something you want to talk about?"

"No, I just want to get situated properly."

Lorca precisely arranged the covers and reached out, trying to summon the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent.

Due to the unique nature of his scene replication ability, he couldn’t outright explain. After all, the alchemist was a girl, and he needed to be mindful of proper boundaries. It was one thing to bother her during the day, but following her at night would be impolite.

Unfortunately, despite mentally calling out several times with his mental energy despite the headache, there was no sign of the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent. In the dead silence, only Eve looked at him puzzled: "What are you doing?"

"..."

Aware that his actions seemed strange, Lorca remained silent for a while. He wasn’t sure whether to tell Eve about the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent.

Half of his mind said it was a confidential ability not to be disclosed, while the other half insisted it was better to clarify early. Eventually, morality prevailed. Just before Eve’s fingertips touched his brow, he said vaguely, "Be a bit careful around the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent... its ability is quite special. Just be discreet around it during private moments."

As if feeling his words were too bold, he actually flushed slightly.

Eve frowned, still unable to grasp Lorca's true intention. Her suspicious gaze swept over him repeatedly, but finding no answer, she finally relented, "Alright."

After tapping Lorca to make him sleep with a finger, she turned around, closed the door, and stepped out. Her hand brushed over her black robe and somehow produced a snake's head, asking, "Do you know what your master meant?"

The Wall-Imprisoned Serpent was essentially just a foolish little snake that only knew how to be cute. Apart from gazing at people with its clear green eyes and wagging its tail to beg for affection, it couldn't do anything else. Its intelligence couldn't even match a single tendril of a Luna Butterfly.

Now, it just stared blankly at Eve with wide eyes, completely failing to understand her question. The flower on its head even swayed ingratiatingly.

Eve looked at it pityingly, "...Never mind, you're just a dumb little thing. I won't get anything out of asking you."

Although she didn't quite understand what Lorca was vaguely trying to convey, it planted a seed of doubt in her heart. From then on, she refused to let the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent nestle in her clothes anymore. Instead, she wrapped the little snake around her wrist, wearing it like a living bracelet.

Keeping it right under her eyes would let her keep an eye on it.

She turned and opened another door—not her own room, but the alchemy laboratory next door.

The cat's-eye-sized energy stone on the black iron key emitted a faint green glow. Eve fished out a cooling candy from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. The cool, sweet flavor slowly melted on her tongue, instantly refreshing her somewhat drowsy mind.

Eve glanced up at the floor-to-ceiling window.

The moon hung full in the sky, and the glass window was tightly shut. Yet, even such cold artificial light, merely shining on her, made her feel a chill throughout her body.

She lowered her head again to look at the batch of materials delivered to her desk, alongside handwritten manuscripts on advanced alchemical potion-making that she had gathered.

The night was long, but she didn't have much time.

-

The rather spacious room, carved into the trunk of a millennia-old giant tree, was filled with the natural, fresh scent of wood.

Several cluttered desks were strewn with test tubes, pens and papers, and materials that appeared ordinary but were actually precious. Against the wall stood a few rows of low bookshelves. Under the window was a small round table and a short stool—all the furniture was made of wood. If anyone were to step inside, they might think they had wandered into some fairy-tale tree spirit’s home.

A petite figure in a cloak sat on the short stool by the window. Under the brilliant sunlight, the five silver stars on her collar reflected a dazzling glow.

She had vibrant green hair that cascaded all the way to the floor. If someone were to turn and face her, they would see that her appearance was both beautiful and eerie—half her face was that of a young human girl, while the other half was withered tree bark, devoid of any signs of life. Her face merged tenderness with terror, vitality with desiccation. Combined with the mysterious air about her, the longer one looked, the more one sensed a bizarre kind of beauty.

Gu Zhaoxi was lazily sitting by the table, basking in the sun and reading a book, when a slender vine suddenly extended from the wall nearby. It first nuzzled her hand affectionately, and she casually turned her head, asking, "What is it?"

The vine unfurled, presenting a device blinking with light—a message had been sent to her. She glanced at it; it was a young junior seeking guidance on some questions.

As one of the more active and well-known Five-Star Alchemists, countless people tried to win Gu Zhaoxi's favor. Every day, unknown numbers of individuals rushed to get close to her. This one had some connections, managing to have someone relay a message to her private terminal. But Gu Zhaoxi had no intention of making any exceptions.

She wasn't particularly busy—she just couldn't be bothered.

Crossing her legs and flipping through a couple more pages, Gu Zhaoxi suddenly realized that the "connection" this person had used was actually her most beloved junior apprentice.

"..."

She still didn't really want to engage, but her apprentice had always been thin-skinned and introverted. Completely rejecting them made Gu Zhaoxi feel a bit guilty.

Truly, raising an apprentice was like incurring a debt.

She sighed but ultimately took the terminal, preparing to carefully see what nonsense they'd come up with.