Chapter 692: Some Words of Experience

The older sister turned around in a daze and saw the uncle standing behind her. She asked vigilantly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just came to check," the uncle replied. "How's that kid doing?"

Strangely, that fleeting scent had disappeared.

When the uncle appeared, I distinctly smelled an unprecedented odor, and two words flashed in my mind—"Sha Yi."

If I hadn't shouted "Older sister, be careful," I felt something terrible would have happened.

Thankfully, that scent vanished, so the older sister should be safe now.

At the bottom of the well, I found a wooden box, but on its back, there were four characters written: "Nv" followed by three others I couldn't recognize, since there was no Pinyin.

"Little brother, did you find the key?" the older sister called from above.

I thought for a moment, took the key from the wooden box, and tucked it into my pocket. Then I tugged on the rope and shouted, "I found it!"

The group up top discussed for a while and were about to pull me up when I suddenly felt my hair getting wet. I looked up and saw water starting to seep through the cluster of small holes at the top.

The water was flowing fast, like a dozen faucets turned on at once, and I was drenched in a downpour at the bottom of the well.

I was completely soaked, and I knew I'd get scolded again.

Outside, everything turned chaotic in an instant. Because of the loud rushing water and echoes below, I couldn't hear what they were saying.

But I could smell everyone's scent, which was really strange.

The older sister's scent carried "worry," "unease," and "helplessness," followed by the leader, the uncle, whose scent kept emitting "Sha Yi."

Then came the others, their scents wavering between "hesitation" and "Sha Yi."

These scents kept flooding into my nose, making me feel like I was getting sick.

The sound of the water grew louder, and the water in the well rose higher, gradually reaching up to my neck.

I looked up and saw a person peering over the edge, watching me. The top was full of falling water, so I couldn't make out his face, but his scent was foul—it had to be that leader, the uncle.

How strange, where was the older sister?

"Kid!" the uncle called out. "You're covered in water, and so is the rope—it's too heavy for us to pull you up! Untie the rope and tie it to the key! We'll pull up the key first, then figure out how to save you."

As he said that, another strange, heavy scent wafted from him, but this time, it didn't form words in my mind, so I had no idea what it meant.

Many years later, I finally learned what that scent was.

It was called "Piàn."

"No! Little brother!" the older sister's voice came from far away. "Don't believe him! Remember what I told you?"

Her scent was "worry" and "truthfulness," now mixed with a bit of "fear."

I remembered—she told me that to stay alive, I must never untie the rope.

But why was she speaking from so far away? Was she unable to come over?

"U-uncle," I called out nervously, "if you can't pull me up, that's okay. I know a little swimming, and once the water fills up, I can float up with it."

I was getting anxious, and when I get anxious, I want to cry, but crying means getting scolded.

"To hell with that!" the uncle shouted. "The countdown is down to just over three minutes—who's going to wait for you to swim up? Hand over that key right now, or even if you get up, I'll beat you to death."

His scent had turned entirely to "Sha Yi."

I hadn't done anything wrong, and yet I was getting yelled at.

And what was going on with this strange prison anyway? Why did everyone have such strong scents?

Did I have one too?

I lifted my wrist and sniffed it, and an even more absurd word appeared in my mind—

"Ling Xiu"!

"What's going on?"

"Kid, stop spacing out!" the uncle yelled. "Untie the rope first! Once we open the door, we'll come right back to save you!"

That heavy scent came again.

I didn't know if I should agree. I rarely go against adults' demands, or they won't like me.

If adults don't like me, my days ahead won't be easy.

Luckily, I have plenty of experience dealing with adults.

I can share it with you: Don't say what you want to say, don't do what you want to do.

Always think about what adults want you to say or do, so you won't get scolded.

If adults take you to visit their friends and you see fresh fruit on the table, don't say you want to eat it, or they'll call you "unmannerly" and say you're rude and won't amount to anything when you grow up.

I'm really afraid of people saying I'll be "no good" in the future, because my parents only say that when they're furious.

Oh, and if adults put something you hate, like chives, on the table, even if you want to spit it out, swallow it anyway, or they'll call you "picky" and say they'll starve you for three days so you'll eat anything. They'll tell you that when they were kids, they didn't even have food, and now that times are better, you're being picky with something as good as chives—that's "spoiled."

Also, if you meet a younger kid who breaks your things or takes your toys, you have to smile and say it's fine, or they'll say you have "no big brother spirit." Even with kids your age, if you don't share or yield, they'll call you that, so whenever another kid asks, you'll lose your favorite things. But if you dare take something from another kid, that's "selfish," and you'll get a beating for sure.

If you feel unhappy, never cry out loud. Do everything quietly, or they'll call you a "nuisance," and say they work hard to raise you, they're exhausted every day, and you don't understand a thing.

As soon as you show your real thoughts, they'll say you're "naughty," "immature," "no good," and some adults will even hit you.

These are all experiences I've built up from dealing with adults time and again. Hiding your true thoughts means getting scolded less, and I really don't want to be scolded, especially in front of a crowd—that makes me extra sad.

I suddenly thought of Kong Rong.

He handled it so well—I should learn from him.

So, this time, I have to agree. I don't want to be scolded or hit.

"Uncle..."

I was about to agree, but before I could say it, I suddenly smelled an intense scent I'd never encountered before.

How to describe that scent?

It was a "thought"—yes, I smelled a "thought."

I vaguely picked up on the older sister's "thought."

It might be hard to understand, because I can't explain it clearly myself. Even though the older sister didn't speak, a notion just appeared in my mind out of nowhere, and I knew exactly where it came from.

But this notion wasn't made of words; it was just an idea, a concept, and I had to figure out how to put it into words myself.

"I... I don't think I can untie the rope..." I blurted out, following the older sister's idea. "If I untie the rope and hand over the key, you'll just abandon me."