V3: Chapter 51: How Blissful!
"Of course it's not that the tentacles turned into a tree; this is probably something left behind by the tentacles."
Octaville reached out and touched the slime again, smelling it as well, finally arriving at this conclusion.
"Left behind by the tentacles?"
Hearing this, Gladys frowned, then looked up at the tree.
"This tree doesn't seem unusual from the outside, and I wonder if there's some hidden secret inside."
Just as she finished speaking, Gladys looked eager to chop the tree in half. Octaville stopped her, slowly saying:
"I reckon even if you cut the tree in half, it wouldn't make a difference. I feel the problem lies in the fruit this tree bears. Do you see it? Only this big tree has a few fruits."
This phenomenon was quite conspicuous, easily noticed with Octaville's reminder. Gladys nodded lightly, indicating she had seen it.
“There’s more to it than just this one strange thing. Look, Tower Master, the tree’s leaves are growing so lushly, so vibrant. Yet it’s winter now, this scene completely defies the laws of nature.”
Although this seemed somewhat redundant following the speculation about the fruit, Octaville still nodded approvingly.
“Gladys, put Laura next to me, I’ll watch her for you. Climb up the tree and pick all the fruit. Remember, all of it.”
Hearing this, Gladys awkwardly rubbed her hands together, looking at Octaville with a wry smile. “But... but, Tower Master, I can’t climb trees.”
Sometimes Octaville really wanted to pry open Gladys’s big head to see what was inside, how she could sometimes get so caught up in such tricky dead ends.
“When I said 'climb,' I was just referring to the act of climbing a tree, not restricting you to using only your hands and feet. In other words, whether you jump up or use magic to fly up, it's your freedom.”
“.....”
Gladys slapped her forehead.
“Oh right!”
She subconsciously followed the literal meaning of the sentence, never expecting to make such a fool of herself…how embarrassing.
Gladys touched her nose sheepishly.
Then, Gladys placed Laura beside Octaville, crouched slightly like a cat, bent her knees, and then burst forth with astonishing strength, leaping lightly onto a branch of the tree in front of her.
The tree gave off a rather unsettling feeling, quite eerie, which made Gladys feel uneasy. So, she quickly and deftly picked the fruit.
Octaville had emphasized “all,” and there were only a few scattered fruit on the tree. Gladys picked them all, wrapped them in her coat, and tied them around her waist.
Then, she leaped down from the branch, landing silently, and returned to Laura and Octaville's side.
"These five are all that grew on the tree, all the 'all' you wanted."
Gladys held the five fruits wrapped in her clothes as if they were hot potatoes. She quickly shoved them into Octaville's hands as soon as she reached her.
"Here, here. These are strange things; just holding them through my clothes sends chills down my spine."
"Heh, you're quite timid."
Octaville chuckled, then stuffed all five fruits into her large pocket.
Her goal achieved; she could finally head home.
Back home, she'd show these fruits to Prescott and have him examine them carefully to see what secrets they held.
Everyone's magic was exhausted, so there was no rush. They could return to the inn to rest and set off again the next day.
———Inside the Langwendi Mansion———
As dawn broke, a faint blue-purple hue gradually appeared on the horizon, like a dreamlike painting slowly unfolding. A gentle ray of sunlight, like a shy maiden, quietly pierced through the thin mist, gently, quietly sprinkling its light on the courtyard outside the Langwendi Mansion.
The flowers in the courtyard seemed to be awakened by this sunlight, blooming with even more vibrant colors. The dewdrops on the blades of grass shimmered with crystal light; everything seemed so lively, full of hope and vitality.
The snow began to melt slowly under this warm light, turning into trickles that meandered down the meticulously carved stone steps, whispering softly.
The ancient trees in the courtyard, weathered by wind, frost, rain, and snow, still stand tall and resilient, like guardians of time who have witnessed countless seasons change, quietly standing on this land gently touched by the morning light. Their branches are laden with glistening icicles, each unique in shape: some like slender silver needles, others like round pearls, and still others like exquisite sculptures—each a lost treasure meticulously sculpted by winter's spirits in the cold night.
Brightened by the morning light, these icicles seem to come alive, shimmering with dazzling light, like countless tiny stars scattered on the branches, or like musical notes leaping in the dawn, playing a hymn to winter. They contrast sharply with the ancient trees' ruggedness, yet coexist harmoniously, together weaving an ancient and mysterious winter tapestry.
Occasionally, a snowflake or two, like graceful dancers, gently drifted down from the treetops of the ancient trees. They twirled and swirled in the air, finally settling elegantly on the courtyard ground, or lightly touching the crystal-clear icicles, merging with them. The snowflakes and melting snow met, as if engaging in a silent dialogue, each telling the secrets of winter and the expectations of spring.
This scene was like a delicate ink painting, every stroke imbued with the charm of nature and the rhythm of life.
The fusion of snowflakes, icicles, and melting snow was not only a testament to the cyclical nature of the world, but also a symbol of the passage of time and the changing of seasons.
The windows of the mansion opened one by one. Carol, holding Philomena, stood by the window, quietly admiring the melting snow.
The maids, in unison, took brooms and went out to sweep the snow.
"Mama, I want to go with them too."
Carol, while seeking Liang Lin's permission, lifted Philomena up, gesturing for her to come and hold her. A mother is naturally delighted when her child volunteers to do chores.
"Go ahead."
Liang Lin took Philomena from Carol and patted her on the back of the head.
"Don't cause trouble for the maids."
"Yay!"
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