Tianjin people will never lose SAN

Chapter 76: The Ship Family
Token walked out of the hall and found two young men waiting for him in the study next door.

One of the two was a cutting-edge drama critic, and the other was a young factory owner in his thirties.

What the two have in common is that they are both highly educated and extremely obsessed with Medea.

"Mr. Token, are you going to enjoy Miss Medea's new opera in your manor later? I have prepared a few clothes. You know that the stage costumes of the opera performance will directly affect..."

As soon as Token entered the room, the critic came over to greet him. Being able to hear Miss Medea's new play in private was simply a blessing from the goddess of music, a good thing that he dared not even think about.

Token raised his hand to interrupt him, but the factory owner was more shy. He stood there with a bunch of roses in his hands, his lips trembling as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to start.

"Come with me, I guarantee that this must be the most beautiful song you have ever heard in your life."

When Token brought the two back to the hall, the old butler had already raised the curtains on the wall. It turned out that the space in this room was larger than expected, and there was a row of small auditoriums built on one side.

Token returned to sit in front of the piano. The deer head decoration on the piano had been adjusted by the old butler.

There are three small antler sculptures hidden in the other three corners near the piano. They are ritual creations made by Token's grandfather himself, which can protect the safety of the mystics within to a certain extent.

At this time, Medea was still standing in the center of the stage, but her expression was completely different from before.

The critic bowed to Medea before sitting down in the audience. He held the paper and pen in both hands, and his passionate gaze was fixed on the goddess of drama that had been haunting him. The critic was not surprised by her current indifference.

All Medea's fans know that she is unrestrained on stage but cold as ice in life. This is her character.

Token winked at the old butler, who handed a wooden box containing the play script to Medea and returned to the piano. He walked with big steps, fearing that Medea would speak before he came back.

"Cassilda's Song" sounded in the room again. It started to rain outside the manor. Token looked out the window bored. He thought of when he was six years old, he also attended his father's funeral on such a rainy afternoon.

The pastor slowly carried the black coffin into the deep pit that had been dug long ago. He stood at the edge of the pit and threw the first handful of soil.

At that time, my grandfather was standing behind me, and his strong hands pressed heavily on my shoulders.

"Token, worldly compassion and mystics are inherently at odds with each other. Your father is the best example. Don't try to contain the flame with your hands. Look at the moths that fly towards it first and let them test the temperature."

Grandpa whispered in his ear.

This is how my father died. He was presiding over mass and connecting with the complex will of other gods in the universe through Medea. The result was that he became a corpse in the coffin in front of me.

The will of the gods needs to be vented at all times, and you can't keep chaos and disorder in a box for a long time.

And trying to deconstruct the knowledge of the gods by yourself is tantamount to self-destruction.

When I came back to my senses, the chaotic poem sung by Medea had already reached its climax. The critics and factory owners on the stage were staring at her blankly, completely unaware of the changes that had taken place in themselves.

A faint rotating dent appeared in the center of their foreheads. The symbol was three curves converging towards the center. Two mercury-colored transparent arms slowly rose from the void and grasped their throats.

But the two of them still turned a deaf ear to it. All their attention was attracted by Medea, and one poem followed another.

The ancient drama of chaos and roar is like a mountain with peaks attracting the confident climber.

There was a level after another, a chapter after another, and gradually the two young men began to drool unconsciously. Their eyes were red and their hands were tightly gripping the handles of the chairs.

They didn't know what they were listening to. It was not just Medea's loud singing, but also the prophecy of doom from the Lord of the distant sea in the universe.

To be honest, Token is tired of this kind of drama, but luckily it will all end next week.

A brand new beginning will emerge before the Heep family, where there is the protection of the Supreme God and the blessing of the ultimate truth. Token smiled, as if he had seen the vision of success. He waved his hand slightly, and the old butler pulled the mechanical handle hidden behind the curtain.

The half-meter-high wooden guardrails on both sides of the auditorium slowly rose up, trapping the two already crazy fanatics inside, and the curtain above their heads also slowly descended.

The disordered will of the gods was vented, and the two young people who voluntarily stepped into the dream trap also completed their missions.

As for what revelations they got from the mysterious supernatural communication, Token didn't care. If the result was the loss of sanity, then it would be meaningless even if they absorbed more knowledge from the gods.

At this time, Medea stopped singing and returned to her original cold state.

Only drama can awaken the human side of her. The rest of the time she is just a body in which the projection of the gods resides.

Token clapped his hands again, and the butler carefully stepped out of the statue's influence. He opened the door, and outside the door, seven or eight maids had been ready for a long time. They pushed in a white porcelain bathtub decorated with strange patterns, and hung a frosted shower curtain between the piano and Medea.

After doing all this, they left without looking back. It was a rule that every servant knew not to be curious about things that were difficult to understand at Ship Manor.

"call……"

Token let out a breath. The first time he did this was when he was 12 years old. His grandfather taught him personally then. It had been so long without him noticing.

The butler opened the secret door on the wall beside the piano and pulled out a girl of about fifteen or sixteen. A black cloth was stuffed in the girl's mouth and her hands were tied with thorns.

Token didn't go to see her. There was nothing to see. He had done this for more than ten years, nearly a hundred times. Remembering their appearance was like remembering the patterns on leaves. It was meaningless.

The butler pushed the girl to the bathtub, and Token took out his suitcase from under the piano and followed behind.

He pulled up a chair, put on rubber gloves, and pulled out rows of silver tools from a box. Those tools were passed down to him by his grandfather, and each one was engraved with an exquisite carving of a deer head.

And they have only one function, bloodletting.

……

The girl struggled like a frightened deer, but it was in vain. She had been given anesthetics long ago. The butler was an old hand at this. He had served three generations of masters and knew how to position the girl's body accurately. It was a skill.

If the blood vessels are too small and the volume is too slow, or if the blood vessels are too thick, the blood will splash directly out of the bathtub.

The pale arms hung limply over the edge of the bathtub. As the wall clock ticked, bright red liquid dripped into the bathtub, splashing layers of enchanting ripples.

The old butler dealt with the corpse and cleaned the tools without Token's instructions, as he had done the same process hundreds of times.

Token bowed slightly to the expressionless Medea and then retreated to the piano. On the way, he did not forget to hang up the shower curtain. Then he heard the rustling sound of someone taking off clothes behind him.

The reason he hung the shower curtain was not because he was afraid of Medea, nor was it out of any secular ethical considerations.

But he felt that Medea was dirty. As the family's immoral person, Medea could never be forgiven.

Why do I always feel that the weekend goes by so fast? It's Monday again, and I hope everyone will have a good mood in the new week.

This is just a short foreshadowing before the main event. The main event will start tomorrow. Speaking of which, the story of the mysterious gathering has reached the middle and late stages. Hehe, I promise that no one will be able to guess the final plot.

It will be on the shelves on Wednesday. Don’t blame me for nagging. I have one more thing to say.

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(End of this chapter)