After a brief conversation, Lingsha gained a general understanding of the Doggirl camp's situation: they were essentially nomads, drifting with the tides.
Lingsha surveyed the Doggirls in the cave. Each wore crude garments fashioned from animal hides, leaving large swathes of skin exposed. Footwear was, of course, nonexistent; all were barefoot.
Standing among them, Lingsha and Ikezawa, fully clothed, felt like alien beings. These Doggirls hadn't even reached the level of nomadic tribes; their way of life resembled that of wild savages.
Yet here lay the strangeness: these "savages" spoke fluent, perfectly standard Chinese, and were capable of reading and writing. Lingsha witnessed Granny Xi pull out a blue-bound book detailing the appearances and properties of various plants, including their toxicity, medicinal applications, and compounding methods.
One common plant, when uprooted, exuded a dark liquid from its stem that could be used as ink.
When asked about the book's origins, Granny Xi shook her head. She explained that it had been passed down from the previous physician. By studying its contents and expanding upon it with her own experience, she had become the current healer.
It had to be said, this was truly bizarre, like a civilization that hadn't even left its home star sharing the technology for a "two-dimensional foil" with a passing alien civilization.
But Lingsha was now certain of one thing: these Doggirls harbored no ill will toward her. Granny Xi sighed and said, "Though I don't know how you became separated from your own kind, you should consider this place your home for now. If you need anything, just tell this old woman."
In this harsh environment, where their race teetered on the brink of extinction, mutual aid and cooperation were paramount. Everyone was doing their part to ensure the survival of humanity. This was precisely why the Hunting Team had invited Lingsha and Ikezawa, two complete strangers, into their camp.
From the Hunting Team leader's perspective, Lingsha and Ikezawa weren't strangers at all, but rather stranded compatriots. In this world, being alone was perilous.
After chatting for a while longer, Lingsha excused herself and temporarily left the camp, venturing outside the cave. The surrounding trees stood as stark and charcoal-black as before, resembling burnt wood.
Despite being deep within a forest-covered mountain, the area felt utterly lifeless, exuding a suffocating aura of death.
However, Lingsha hadn't come to observe the forest itself, but to observe herself. Since arriving in this bizarre world, she had been constantly on the move. Now that she finally had some downtime, she naturally needed to adjust to her new body.
The most striking change was her sense of smell. Lingsha could clearly feel that her sense of smell had become extraordinarily sensitive, almost absurdly so. Just moments ago, while speaking with Granny Xi, she had detected a faint odor of rotting apples emanating from the elder woman.
This wasn't the typical "old person smell," but something... Lingsha couldn't quite describe it. The moment she caught the scent, it was as if she had gained X-ray vision, directly perceiving the unhealthy state of Granny Xi's heart, spleen, and lungs.
While an enhanced sense of smell had its advantages, it also had its drawbacks. For instance, the mere sight of a garbage bin could now subject her to torturous levels of sensory overload far beyond what ordinary people could endure.
Perhaps anticipating this situation, Lingsha retrieved a small handheld mirror (sent by the Chat Group). Reflected in it, her hair was neatly coiled at the nape of her neck, secured with an exceptionally unique hairpin.
This ancient ornament, originally called a Silver Incense Ball, could be described in modern terms as a portable aromatherapy device. It constantly emitted a faint, delicate fragrance that permeated the air around Lingsha.
Mmm, it smells wonderful!
In truth, anyone who approached Lingsha within a certain distance could detect the fragrance emanating from her. This was partly due to the hairpin, but also because Lingsha herself was inherently fragrant. Having spent so long immersed in incense-infused environments, she had become thoroughly permeated with the scent, like a perfectly marinated ingredient.
Shifting her gaze from the hairpin, Lingsha continued to study her reflection. Her appearance wasn't merely "pretty"; the word "beautiful" seemed more fitting. She embodied the quintessential "Ancient Style Beauty," radiating an aura of dignified elegance, gentle refinement, and exquisite grace.
In HSR, there are two Ancient Style Beauties. One is Ruan Mei, who blends the elegance of ancient aesthetics with the rationality and detachment of modern science. The other is Lingsha, who embodies both ethereal grace and captivating allure.
To capture her essence in eight words: "Innate charm, heavenly beauty."
Of course, this only describes her outward appearance. In reality, Lingsha has a fiery temper that she usually keeps well-hidden. An official animated short depicts three miniature versions of her holding a mental meeting, unleashing a torrent of expletive-free curses.
Ironically, the absence of vulgar language transforms her tirades into something strangely endearing, like playful teasing. Taking this into account, she could still be described in five words: "Fiery Fragrant Consort, rebellious sweetie."
Setting aside her temperament, let's return to her fundamental appearance. Lingsha tilted her head slightly as she gazed into the mirror. Her long, dark hair, tinged with a hint of red, cascaded to her waist. Two pointed ears at either side of her head marked her as a member of the Vidyadhara Clan.
As a Red Dragon, Lingsha's hands and feet were a vibrant crimson. Faint scales could be seen on her wrists and calves. She poked her calf with her right index finger, finding the scales soft and pliable rather than hard.
A golden leg ring adorned her right thigh, also bearing traces of scales.
Despite her draconic heritage, she lacked horns and a tail—features reserved for the Dragon Sovereigns of the Vidyadhara Clan.
Without a reference point, Lingsha couldn't pinpoint her exact height. But when she glanced down, she realized she couldn't see her feet.
Hmm, not being able to see my feet when I look down... I'm used to that. Propping her chin with one hand, she pondered for a moment before reaching a quick conclusion:
A little smaller than Firefly, a little bigger than Robin—roughly in between the two.