Chapter 158: A Minor Mishap (2)

"Do not doubt it, these were his exact words. Can you believe it?"

"It is indeed unexpected. How could Cold-Blood Five ever tolerate him? It seems whatever he is teaching must be of immense value. However, I am certain that once he finishes teaching, Cold-Blood Five will surely kill him!"

"I share the exact same sentiment. In the hands of Cold-Blood Thirteen, he was already practically a dead man, to say nothing of the present!"

"Why are we spending so much time discussing a dead man? Let us return to the matter at hand. The Empress Dowager's birthday banquet is in a month. We must eliminate all spies from enemy nations and prevent anyone from causing sabotage."

"Indeed, this time..."

Not only Cold-Blood Thirteen Eagle knew about this matter, but virtually everyone in the Cold-Blood Group had already caught wind of it, or rather, had witnessed it firsthand.

Cold-Blood Five and Ye Lang maintained a very peculiar relationship—one that baffled others and stretched belief.

In the courtyard of Cold-Blood Thirteen, Ye Lang and Cold-Blood Five were conversing. Of course, under normal circumstances, it was usually Ye Lang doing the talking while Cold-Blood Five listened on the side. Cold-Blood Five rarely spoke, a trait tied directly to her personality.

For Cold-Blood Five to coexist so peacefully with Ye Lang was already a remarkable feat. Expecting her to chat and laugh with him like a normal young woman was an absolute impossibility.

In truth, had Ye Lang's words not held genuine value for Cold-Blood Five, and had she been unable to find anyone else who understood such knowledge, she would never have approached him in the first place, let alone tolerated his attitude toward her.

I, the formidable Cold-Blood Five, am actually being ordered around by this brat! Just you wait, sooner or later I'll make you pay for looking down on me!

"Little Five, that's enough for today. Remember to bring me something delicious tomorrow!" Ye Lang never gave those thoughts a second mind. He had never truly regarded Cold-Blood Five as a cold-blooded assassin, viewing her merely as a young girl. Lacking any other name for her, he had simply bestowed upon her a nickname: Little Five!

The inspiration for Little Five seemed to come from the Seventh Princess's Little Qi, almost a direct copy. Ye Lang was never one to overthink such matters.

"I hope you are still alive tomorrow," Cold-Blood Five said coldly. Yet, this was not meant as a spiteful remark; she genuinely hoped Ye Lang would survive the morrow so that she could continue acquiring novel knowledge from him.

As for why she harbored such a thought?

Because Cold-Blood Thirteen could emerge at any given moment. When that happened, Ye Lang's pleasant days would likely come to an end, and he would no longer enjoy his current leisure.

Of course, this was Cold-Blood Five's perspective, as well as that of everyone else. Whether things would actually turn out that way, however, remained difficult to say.

"Thank you for your blessing. I intend to live to a ripe old age!" Ye Lang thanked her politely, seemingly completely oblivious to the underlying meaning of her words.

"Live to a ripe old age..." Cold-Blood Five murmured in a daze, "I hope so!"

An assassin like Cold-Blood Five would never naturally entertain the notion of living to a ripe old age; such a concept was infinitely distant from her. Having watched countless people perish before her eyes, she had no idea on which day she herself might die!

It was all too far away...

Watching Cold-Blood Five depart, Ye Lang rose as well, walking inside to resume his experiments. At the same time, he pondered the mystery of Cold-Blood Thirteen, wondering when the man would finally emerge.

Yet, unlike the others, Ye Lang's desire to know the timeline was not out of fear of Cold-Blood Thirteen confronting him, but rather because of the alchemy Cold-Blood Thirteen had locked himself away to tinker with.

So much time had passed, and the time Ye Lang could afford to idle away outside was running short. To put it plainly, he had already thoroughly researched and completely mastered all the other alchemical techniques, and he now craved the unfamiliar kind kept hidden within.

Without that, Ye Lang would simply leave this place. Although life here was reasonably comfortable, he held not the slightest shred of attachment to it.

Never forget, had he not originally set his sights on Cold-Blood Thirteen's alchemy, he would never have come here in the first place. If he truly wanted to leave, Cold-Blood Thirteen would have no way to stop him.

"A few more days. If you still don't come out by then, I'm going in. I'm doing this for your own good—I'd hate for you to die inside and have no one notice!" Standing before the doorway of the second laboratory, Ye Lang muttered, "Since you aren't answering, I'll take that as your consent. Wonderful, it's settled!"

With that, Ye Lang began manipulating the alchemical materials inside. A series of bizarre alchemical experiments unfolded right there within the second laboratory. If Cold-Blood Thirteen were to witness this spectacle, his jaw would undoubtedly drop in utter astonishment.

Cold-Blood Thirteen considered himself an alchemical genius, yet he could never have conceived of Ye Lang's methods. He had to admit that he had already conceded a step to Ye Lang in terms of imagination and creativity.

Yet, to achieve a breakthrough in the art of alchemy, one had to rely precisely upon such imagination and creativity. These qualities were required for many crafts and stood as an utterly vital element.

This could perhaps be called a form of innate talent!

Sometimes, when an object lay right before one's eyes, certain people could glance at it once and immediately utilize it to aid themselves, while others could stare for eternity and perceive nothing. That was the fundamental distinction.

Just like Ye Lang at this very moment; having only just learned these restricted alchemical techniques, he immediately sparked new variations, refining those very skills to make his own alchemy even more flawless.

While Cold-Blood Thirteen was also capable of such feats, it would require a vast amount of time. As for anyone else, they might never achieve it in a lifetime!

Bang...

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the alchemical laboratory. The already chaotic workspace became even more thoroughly disarranged, and at that instant, the person inside seemed to have vanished.

That wasn't right. Ye Lang had just been in there; even if an experiment failed, he should still be present.

"Huh? Where is this?" Ye Lang looked at his surroundings, wondering why they felt completely different from his previous location. "Could it be... have I been teleported?"

The mere thought of this possibility stirred a spark of excitement in his chest. He wanted to figure out where he was and whether he could use this method to play around with teleportation in the future.

However, very soon, Ye Lang noticed something. The objects nearby felt vaguely familiar, as if they were—

"Haha, this is getting interesting..."

Ye Lang burst into laughter. Clearly, he had stumbled upon something amusing and novel. Could it be that the place he was teleported to was actually interesting?

No, that was not the case. There was no teleportation at all; Ye Lang was still right inside the laboratory!

Then why did he think it was somewhere else, and why were no figures visible in the laboratory?

It was quite simple, for there could only be one reason: Ye Lang's current physique—

Ye Lang was now only twenty centimeters tall, transformed into a miniature person!

This sudden turn of events instantly brought a movie to mind—*Honey, I Shrunk the Kids*!

At least Ye Lang's situation was slightly better; he was still considerably larger than an ant...

(To be continued)