Chapter 106: The Deadly Birthday Gift

The contents of Liu the Scholar’s bag increased the pressure on the five of them tenfold.

Su Mi breathed a sigh of relief—thankfully she had some real skill; otherwise, a single blow from that spiked club would have killed her outright.

Zhao Xiaofu and Jiang Xianglan were both pale as death, their livers trembling slightly; even Du E’s face was grim.

Even on Su Mi’s thick-skinned body, the whip had torn through skin and flesh—how much worse would it be if it struck their delicate faces?

Wu Xian widened his eyes.

This ugly, fat old man calls that spiked club a teaching cane?

This is just a child’s homework—how could Su Mi’s writing be considered barely acceptable? One mistake deserves such a brutal punishment?

Now Wu Xian finally understood why the Young Master had set up this ordeal.

This homework was indeed not easy to complete—and it tested one’s mental fortitude terribly.

“But if the work is this harsh, how am I supposed to finish it?”

This was a task of strength, and Su Mi excelled at strength-based tasks.

But obtaining the other gifts would be dangerous.

Her gaze held a hint of despair.

She looked toward the last compartment—it was simple, containing only a chair, with a talisman bearing the character “Shou” hanging from the beam, half exposed.

Everyone watching Zhao Xiaofu’s movements gasped in shock.

Zhao Xiaofu smiled slightly.

So he glanced furtively to either side.

But he didn’t know the old thing’s strength, nor the consequences of killing it—he could only suppress his urge for now.

Zhao Xiaofu pondered a moment, deciding this gift was best to retrieve.

Wu Xian could force himself to do many things, but writing characters—no amount of forcing could make them look good.

Crack!

A whip’s shadow flashed, striking Du E’s smooth forehead—immediately swelling.

Zhao Xiaofu let out a scream.

Liu the Scholar roared fiercely: “No shouting!”

Moments later.

So Zhao Xiaofu, disregarding caution, stepped onto the stool—her height gave her an advantage; with the chair, she could reach the talisman with her hand.

Liu the Scholar bellowed again: “This gift was given by the Young Master—do it yourself!”

The peach was placed in a deep, narrow cabinet, its edge covered by a curtain, with a raised ledge inside—extracting it required at least extending your head and arms fully into the cabinet.

Du E lifted her head blankly, staring at Wu Xian.

When Su Mi moved the grinding stone earlier, nothing happened—because the task itself was already difficult enough, equivalent to a trial, so no tricks were needed.

This gift had a trap.

Inside was a large pot, filled with clear oil; the golden hairpin lay at the bottom. Seeing the oil wasn’t boiling, she tested it with one fingertip.

She glanced once, then entered the numbers 1-5-9 on the lock—it opened immediately.

Of the five items, only the grinding stone was special—only Su Mi could lift it. If Su Mi didn’t choose it, one of the other four would inevitably fail to claim a gift.

Below the lock was a line of text.

Su Mi walked around the compartments twice, noticing five new items had appeared since before.

Then, simply taking any one gift would see her through the night. She browsed the rooms, finally stopping at the compartment with the bars and the pot.

A mechanical lock on the bars required a three-digit code to open.

If she couldn’t get the talisman, wouldn’t her hand have been injured for nothing?

What would happen if she failed to claim the gift?

Besides, her shoe was still up there—if she didn’t have it, how would she navigate the next rooms?

He wrapped his arms around the grinding stone, muscles bulging, slowly lifting it off the shelf, then picked up the porcelain bottle—thus claiming the gift.

The others would likely be no easier.

Su Mi wrote another passage.

But Zhao Xiaofu had learned her lesson—she watched closely and realized the ropes varied in thickness, none longer than a meter, occasionally twitching faintly.

Wu Xian fell silent, scribbled a note, and tried to pass it to Jiang Xianglan to write for him.

Wu Xian clenched his teeth in fury, wanting to kill the old thing right then and there.

She yanked her finger out instantly—but the pad was already blistered; the calm oil in the pot suddenly boiled, thick smoke rising, and spikes grew along the pot’s handle.

Zhao Xiaofu gritted her teeth and left the compartment—the pot’s handle was spiked; even if she wanted to pour out the hot oil, she couldn’t.

The bone bead necklace lay among a pile of ropes—just part the ropes and pick it up.

Su Mi’s choice of the porcelain bottle was deliberate.

The bottle sat on an iron rack, atop which rested a grinding stone—not too large, but blocking access; unless moved, the bottle could be seen but not reached.

At that moment.

Afterward, Su Mi was banished to the side to read.

Wu Xian’s expression darkened—these gifts were clearly not easy to obtain.

So she kicked off one of her shoes, hurling it upward to knock down the talisman—but it struck the talisman and pushed it further in, while the shoe remained stuck on the beam.

This might be a nest of snakes or insects!

Thus, Zhao Xiaofu now had only one option left.

Crack!

Wu Xian’s arm exploded in pain.

After thinking, Su Mi chose the porcelain bottle.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xiaofu lost her composure.

Prodding with a stick wouldn’t work.

Hiss!

“Ah!”

This time his writing was neater than before, and after checking several times, he found no errors—Liu the Scholar finally stopped criticizing and praised Su Mi, granting her half a cup of tea’s time to choose a gift.

Zhao Xiaofu finally relaxed.

The gift compartments were arranged in an odd pattern—Wu Xian and the others could clearly see what lay inside each compartment just by turning around.

They were: a small, exquisite porcelain bottle, a string of bone beads, a fresh peach, a golden hairpin, and a talisman inscribed with the character “Shou.”

“Help…”

Even if the beam or stool suddenly changed, it would only injure hands or feet—damage could be contained.

Emboldened by Su Mi, Zhao Xiaofu took her pre-written passage to Liu the Scholar and successfully earned her qualification.

Du E’s characters looked like dog scratches—far uglier than Wu Xian’s by several times.

The remaining four compartments likely all held illusions, hiding true dangers.

Liu the Scholar said: “Hurry—the half-cup of tea is almost gone. If you don’t claim your gift, you won’t get another chance tonight.”

Then he saw Du E and nearly burst out laughing.

Jiang Xianglan and Zhao Xiaofu on the left—no surprise they were from the Calligraphy Club—their writing was even prettier than Su Mi’s; as long as there were no errors, they’d pass Liu the Scholar’s inspection.

“At the age of coming-of-age, lacking clothes and food—excerpt from the autobiography of the Liu family’s great-grandmother.”

If this small cabinet suddenly changed, the consequences wouldn’t be as simple as a burned fingertip.

Isn’t this just a number riddle?

But as soon as she tiptoed, her face turned deathly pale.

Because she felt a cold rope coil around her neck…

(End of Chapter)