But it seems different, is it an improved version?
Thinking about who had visited her home during this period, who had entered her bedroom, and who had been taken by her to see the medicinal materials, Hitzfeld roughly understood - it should be a gift left for her by Prins.
This old woman is always like this. She obviously cares about her in her heart, but she never says it and only expresses her feelings through actions.
He even tried to find another reason for his actions. Hitzfeld thought that such people were really weird.
She was blaming the other person in her heart, but on her face she started to smile.
A very peaceful and harmonious smile - if Hitzfeld herself could see this smile from a bystander's perspective, she would comment as a illustrator and artist that it looked somewhat divine.
"An improved version of the Yang Shen Incense..." She began to fiddle with the cylindrical box, "If you really want to do good for me, you shouldn't just leave this thing behind."
There was a pile of solidified ointment in the cylindrical box. It had been frozen hard so it couldn't fall out. She turned the box upside down and found a small note in the hollow layer in the middle.
I took it out and unfolded it, and sure enough, the material formula was written on it.
She still cares about me.
Hitzfeld's smile grew brighter, and he felt a little touched in his heart.
The relationship between her and Pusangsi is very strange, at least that's how it seems to outsiders. They rarely interact with each other, but they seem to know each other very well. Sometimes the other person doesn't need to express what he wants to do, just one action or one look is enough to convey all the information.
Is this a teacher and a student in the true sense?
It’s clear that Xia and I don’t have such a tacit understanding sometimes...but I definitely can’t be feeling sorry for her.
She suppressed the thought of being extremely disrespectful to Pusangsi and moved her eyes down the ingredient list until she saw an alternative word.
"Corpse oil."
She pronounced the word aloud and stood there in a daze.
After several seconds, she finally put the ointment box on the table next to her, then stepped back step by step, bent her knees and sat on the bed.
What the hell… I was intoxicated by the fragrance just a second ago, but now I’m getting goosebumps all over my body?
Hitzfeld wanted to escape from the room quickly.
Although she was well aware that high-end perfumes and ointments did contain some ingredients that were, well, very scary to ordinary people, and perhaps they could not even imagine that they would appear here.
But she still couldn't accept that some of the air she breathed, those parts that she took as fragrance, were transformed from them.
She wanted to escape, she was sure she wanted to escape.
She didn't want to use this thing.
But she found she couldn't.
Compared with this "unbearable" state, and compared with the physical torture, mental problems need to be solved more urgently.
She couldn't live without this balm.
It would keep her from dreaming about Xia until she dealt with her own nightmares.
She thought that was enough.
She finally made up her mind.
……
More than ten minutes later, the Sheldon dog lying by the stove sneezed.
It couldn't sleep because it felt like a strange smell was spreading in the air, which was too strong for a dog's nose.
Hitzfeld tied on an apron and started working with a refreshed look.
She first got a bucket and a mop and started mopping the floor. After mopping the second floor, she mopped the first floor and then found a rag to wipe the glass on the first floor.
"The snow seems to have lessened."
She looked outside and felt that the wind was not as strong as before.
"You can go out and shovel the snow in the afternoon."
Her stomach growled and she realized that she had forgotten to eat after getting up and washing up.
"Why don't you remind me, you lazy dog?"
He walked over and pulled the dog's ears, then took the big white dog into the kitchen, and after some tinkering, he made two breakfasts.
She thought she needed energy, so she made an exception and cooked roti in the morning.
Lily ate voraciously, but she felt a little bloated and could not eat anymore after eating two-thirds of the meal.
Not wanting to waste the remaining meat, Hitzfeld thought of the bird cages on the second floor - owls seemed to be meat-eaters, right?
But looking at the plate, this amount may not be enough.
After thinking for a while, she cut a few more slices of raw meat, picked up a small bag of rice and went upstairs. As soon as she opened the door, she smelled a foul odor of bird droppings.
The black owl is gone, but the owl is still there. Counting the gray pigeon and two winter sparrows, there are four birds in total. It is normal to have this kind of smell.
There was still some water left next to the bird cages, and Hitzfeld poured some grain into the cages of the gray pigeons and sparrows. When he saw them pounce on them, they started eating.
As for the owl—
She moved closer to the cage and observed it first, making sure it was sleeping with its eyes squinting. Then she carefully opened the cage door and swept the slices of meat in.
"boom!"
There was a loud noise behind him.
She was startled and turned around quickly, and found that the triangular window on the next floor seemed to have been hit by something, leaving a strange mark.
She went downstairs quickly, not even bothering to put on her coat. She took the new white whale and summoned the ice needle as she walked down the stairs. At a glance, she saw a snow-white mountain eagle fluttering in the snow.
"It's you?"
She was a little hesitant and not particularly sure about the murderer.
"Cuck!"
The white eagle couldn't fly out by itself, so it looked up and called out to her.
Hitzfeld was unmoved.
"Quack! Quack, quack!"
The silly bird got so angry that it flipped over and raised its legs, revealing the small round paper tube tied on them.
"..." Hitzfeld always had a feeling that the bird was cursing someone just now.
But considering it's a messenger...
Walking over, Shexue held it in her arms.
"Gah..."
The white mountain eagle twisted its body comfortably and even half-closed its eyes.
Just when it thought it would be led into the house with the highest courtesy, Hitzfeld suddenly whispered:
"There are five birds here, including you... Stop pooping for me."
"Gah?"
"You seem to have a higher IQ than them. You'd better find the toilet by yourself, just like Lily did."
"quack……?"
The white eagle stared, completely confused.
I slept too much, I will make up for it today
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Chapter 32: Paul Drake's Letter
The white mountain eagle comes from Wien.
There is actually no need to guess this, because most birds of this species live north of Wayne, and she has few human contacts further north, and only the people of Wayne will send her letters.
And it had to be someone from Wayne who knew a little bit about her current situation, otherwise they wouldn't send a bird, but would just go through the normal process of having the postman deliver it.
On his way in, Hitzfeld caught a glimpse of a figure swaying in the snow, apparently shoveling snow around the corner of the house.
"Walnut!" She was startled and remembered that she hadn't seen Pinocchio for almost two days.
I actually subconsciously ignored her existence?
I felt a little bit unbelievable, but more worried - I didn't see her at home when I woke up in the morning. Could she have been busy outside all night?
"Good morning, master!" Hu Tao heard her call, turned around and waved.
"The snow is about to stop~ Don't worry, Master! Kurumi will be done soon!"
Hitzfeld's response was to hold the white eagle and grab Walnut's hand, then forcibly drag her back to the house.
"Hey, hey!" Pinocchio staggered a little, "What's wrong? What's wrong? Did Walnut do something wrong?"
"A wooden man is not afraid of the cold... but there must be a limit." Hitzfeld wanted to care about her, but he didn't know how to face a thing that was originally a human being. In the end, he could only force himself to show his concern through actions. While scolding Walnut, he pushed her to the edge of the fireplace to stay with Lily who was warming herself by the fire.
"I'm really not cold!" The puppet opened his mouth, "I'm not a wooden man who hasn't been completely transformed! I won't freeze to death like a real tree man!"
"Then you won't die?" Hitzfeld asked her suddenly.
She originally wanted to scare Pinocchio and then make a rebuttal, but unexpectedly, Walnut nodded and said, "Yes, Walnut will not die."
"you……"
"Because Walnut is dead." Pinocchio looked at her with serious eyes. "Walnut has no feeling in her body... This is just a carrier of Walnut's spirit. Even if this body is frozen or broken, Walnut will be fine as long as she changes to another body."
Hitzfeld stared at her, unable to utter a word for a long time.
"And Secretary Hu Tao had asked the body owner beforehand, and only went because the body owner agreed..."
Hu Tao thought she was still angry and grumbled a little aggrieved.
"I agree?" Hitzfeld was not happy. "When did I agree?"
How come she doesn't remember this?
"Just before Eternal Night, probably Saturday night." Walnut answered her seriously.
“I was probably reading a book at that time…”
"Yes, he was reading in bed. Walnut asked the owner, and the owner seemed very impatient."
After she reminded him, Hitzfeld finally remembered.
But it wasn't that she was really impatient, it was that she...
Well she was just impatient.
But that was because she knew she had made up her mind to face the nightmare, she was under a lot of pressure, and her reading process as a pastime before going to bed was interrupted... She actually didn't remember whether she got angry or not.
"If I said something harsh, it probably wasn't what I meant."
After thinking about it, Hitzfeld said this.
But at the same time, a different thought came to her mind.
So she continued, "Every time I decide to go to bed, I might be a little weird. I don't want to be disturbed at that time. Do you understand?"
"Of course!" Pinocchio jumped up and bowed to her. "If the master says so, Kurumi will do it!"
"...Outside, you should still call me by my original name."
Hitzfeld's eyelids jumped, and he returned to the next floor carrying the white mountain eagle.
There is an empty bird cage in the next building, which she made in the tool room when she was free a few days ago.
After all, this thing doesn't require much technical content, it's just a small piece of iron wire and doesn't require much strength. As the price of proficiency, they are all a little crooked, that is, they don't look very regular in appearance, but there is no problem in using them.
The white mountain eagle was put into a birdcage that was as flat as a pumpkin. Hitzfeld beckoned to it, and it stretched out its legs by itself.
The training was good.
Raising an eyebrow, the girl removed the cylinder and pulled out a total of two pieces of letter paper.
They are all tough parchment, but after being cut into slices, they appear thinner, which is very suitable for compressing the volume for birds to carry.
To her surprise, the person who identified himself at the beginning was Paul Drake.
[Hello Hitzfeld, I know you may be a little confused when you see this, because we don’t actually have a deep connection. We are more like strangers than friends.]
