The lady turned around in a daze and found that uncle standing right behind her. She asked warily, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just coming to take a look,” the uncle replied. “How’s the kid doing?”

Strange, that fleeting scent had disappeared.

When that uncle appeared, I had distinctly smelled an unprecedented scent, and at that moment, two words floated up in my mind—”killing intent.”

If I hadn’t shouted out “Sister, watch out!”, I felt that something very serious would have happened.

Fortunately, that scent had disappeared. The lady should be safe now.

At the bottom of the well, I found a wooden box. On the back of the box were four characters written—”Female”… something. There was no pinyin, and I didn’t recognize the remaining three characters.

“Little brother, did you find the key?” the lady asked from above.

I thought for a moment, took the key from the wooden box and tucked it into my shirt, then tugged down on the rope: “I found it!”

The group of them deliberated for a long time up above. Just as they were preparing to pull me up, I suddenly felt my hair getting wet. Looking up, I saw that the pile of small holes at the very top had started seeping water downward.

The water flowed very quickly, as if over a dozen faucets had been turned on simultaneously. I was caught in a heavy rain at the bottom of the well.

I was soaking wet. I was going to get scolded again.

Everything outside instantly descended into chaos. Because the sound of flowing water and the echoes below were so loud, I couldn’t hear what they were saying at all.

But I could smell each person’s scent. This was really so strange.

From the lady came scents of “worry,” “unease,” and “helplessness.” Then there was the leading uncle—”killing intent” kept wafting from his body.

These scents kept pouring into my nasal cavity, making me feel as if I had gotten sick.

The sound of the water grew louder and louder, and the accumulated water in the well rose higher and higher. Gradually it had already risen past my neck.

At this moment I looked up to see a person leaning out, looking at me from the edge of the well. Above was all falling water, so I couldn’t see that person’s face clearly, but the smell coming from him was very foul—it should be that leading uncle.

Very strange—where was the lady?

“Kid!” the uncle called out. “You and the rope are both soaked with water—it’s way too heavy! We have no way to pull you up! Untie the rope and tie it to the key! We’ll pull the key up first, then figure out a way to save you.”

As he spoke these words, a strange, heavy scent wafted from his body once again. But this time the scent didn’t form words in my mind, so I didn’t know what it represented either.

Many years later, I finally learned.

That kind of scent was called “deception.”

“No! Little brother!” the lady’s voice came from very far away. “Don’t believe him! Do you remember what I told you?”

The scent coming from her body was “worry” and “sincerity,” and now there was also some “fear” added.

I remembered. The lady had told me that if I wanted to stay alive, I absolutely must not untie the rope.

But why was she speaking to me from so far away? Could she not come over anymore?

“U-Uncle,” I called out somewhat nervously. “If you can’t pull me up, that’s okay. I know a little bit of swimming. When the water fills up, I can follow it up.”

I was getting a bit anxious. When I got anxious, I would want to cry, and crying would get me scolded.

“Go to hell!” the uncle cursed loudly. “The countdown only has a bit over three minutes left—who has time to wait for you to swim up yourself? Hurry up and hand the key up to me, or else even if you do come up, I’ll beat you to death.”

His scent had changed again. Now it was all “killing intent.”

I hadn’t done anything, yet I still got scolded.

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

Did I have one too?

I raised my wrist and sniffed it. An even more outrageous word appeared in my brain—”Spirit Scent”!

“What on earth is going on?”

“Kid, don’t space out!” the uncle continued shouting loudly. “Untie the rope first! After we open the door, we’ll come right back to save you!”

The heavy scent came again.

I didn’t know whether to agree with him or not. I rarely went against adults’ requests, otherwise they wouldn’t like me.

Once adults didn’t like me, my days ahead wouldn’t be too easy.

Fortunately, I had plenty of experience dealing with adults.

I can share it with you all—that is, don’t say what you want to say, don’t do what you want to do.

You must think about what the adults want you to say and do. That way you won’t get scolded.

If adults take you to visit their friends, no matter how fresh the fruit on the table looks, you can’t say you want to eat it. Otherwise you’ll be called “ill-mannered.” They’ll say you’re very impolite and won’t amount to anything when you grow up.

I was really afraid of people saying I would be “worthless” in the future, because Mom and Dad would only curse me as “worthless” when they were especially angry.

Oh right, if the adults put out chives on the table—your most hated food—even if you want to throw up, you have to swallow it. Otherwise you’ll be called “picky.” They’ll say they’ll starve you for three days, and then you’ll eat anything. They’ll also tell you that when they were little, they couldn’t even get rice to eat. Now that times are good, you’re being picky about something as delicious as chives—that’s being “spoiled.”

Also… if you meet a child younger than yourself, whether they break your things or take away your toys, you have to smile and say it’s okay. Otherwise this is called “not acting like an older brother.” Even with peers, you’ll be called “not knowing how to share and yield.” So as long as other children ask, you’ll definitely lose the things you love. But if you dare to take other children’s things, that’s called being “selfish,” and you’ll inevitably get a beating.

If you feel unhappy, you absolutely cannot cry out loud. No matter what you do, you must be quiet as a mouse. Otherwise this is called being an “annoying brat.” The adults will tell you that they work hard to earn money to raise you, exhausting themselves to death every day, but you don’t understand anything.

Once you reveal your true thoughts, they’ll say you’re “not obedient,” “immature,” “worthless.” Some adults will even hit you.

These are all experiences I’ve accumulated from interacting with adults time and time again. Hiding my true thoughts helps me avoid a lot of scolding. I really didn’t want to be scolded, especially being scolded while a group of people were watching me. That would make me especially sad.

I suddenly thought of Kong Rong.

Kong Rong did very well. I needed to learn from him.

So this time I could only agree. I didn’t want to be scolded, much less beaten.

“Uncle…”

I was just about to agree, but before the words could leave my mouth, I suddenly smelled an intensely strong scent I had never smelled before.

How should I describe that scent?

It was a kind of “thought.” That’s right, I had smelled a kind of “thought.”

Very vaguely, I smelled that lady’s “thought.”

This must be hard to understand, right? Because I really can’t explain it clearly either. Although that lady didn’t speak, a notion just appeared out of nowhere in my mind. I clearly knew who this notion came from.

However, this notion wasn’t composed of language. It was just an idea, a thought. I still needed to find a way to describe it myself.

“I… I don’t think I can untie the rope…” Following the lady’s thought, the words tumbled from my mouth. “Once I untie the rope and hand you the key, you’ll abandon me.”