Hearing the snake speak, I was momentarily stunned, then completely bewildered, hardly believing my ears. I froze in place, dumbfounded. How could this be possible?

I was already prepared for the wickedness of the cockscomb snake, but no matter how intelligent they were, they couldn’t possibly speak human language! The words I just heard were crystal clear; there was no way I could have misheard—

I soon thought that I must have been imagining things. This was absolutely impossible; clearly, my nerves were too tense, leading to confusion. Gritting my teeth, I continued to dive deeper.

The snake looked down at me from above, observing me as I sank. Suddenly, it twisted its neck, as if sizing me up, and then swooped down right in front of me. With a shake of its cockscomb, it emitted another sound: “Little Third Master?”

This time it was even clearer, and its movements were so much like a person speaking that I broke out in a cold sweat and dared not move. I thought to myself, damn it, I’ve really encountered a snake spirit; it’s really a snake talking!

My mind was almost completely in chaos, with countless thoughts flooding in within a second. Was this a divine snake? A snake that had graduated from a human language level six? Did this cockscomb snake actually possess human qualities, or had it simply become a thinking snake?

In that instant, I suddenly remembered that we were currently within the territory of the Queen Mother of the West, where anciently it was considered a fairyland… so a snake talking wouldn’t be too strange.

The snake observed my changing expression, seemingly very interested. It turned its head again, shook its cockscomb, and said, “Little Third Master?”

This time I was somewhat prepared, so I heard it more clearly than the previous two times. Upon hearing it, I suddenly realized something was off. Wait, why did this snake’s speech have a Changsha accent?

Could it be that this was a cockscomb snake originally from Changsha, here to assist in the western development of the Queen Mother of the West’s domain?

In that instant, a very absurd thought flashed through my mind, and I suddenly wanted to ask it, “Are you sent by Hunan TV?” But then a light bulb went off in my head, and I broke out in a cold sweat, gradually coming to understand what was going on.

If this snake truly had extraordinary intelligence, it should be speaking the language of the Queen Mother of the West’s time. However, the fact that it was speaking Mandarin with a Changsha accent was clearly unusual. Mandarin was only promoted in the 1950s, and the Changsha-accented Mandarin was predominantly spoken by people born in the 1970s. This was entirely a modern phenomenon; even if the snake had superhuman wisdom, it shouldn’t be able to speak with such an accent.

That left only one possibility: if it wasn’t “talking,” then it must have been “learning to talk.” This snake was actually learning to speak like a parrot!

I immediately calmed down; it had to be this way. The only sound I had consistently heard was “Little Third Master?” There hadn’t been a second phrase, and even the tone was the same, clearly indicating that this was not a conscious action. The Changsha-accented Mandarin was the same accent as Panzi’s, and Panzi frequently called me “Little Third Master,” repeating those three words the most. This snake must have been following us all along, which is how it learned.

However, while parrots learn to speak through human training, it was quite strange for a snake to learn our language. Clearly, it wasn’t just for fun; there must be a reason behind its imitation of this sound.

As I thought of this, cold sweat began to pour down my back. I recalled the rattlesnake, which attracts its prey by mimicking the sound of flowing water. Was this snake speaking for the same purpose? Damn it, I realized that I had unwittingly attracted it here. How embarrassing it was to have fallen for a snake’s trick.

The snake was sizing me up, its blood-red triangular head almost a hand’s breadth from my nose. I could almost smell a sharp, fishy odor emanating from it. These thoughts flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t think any further; I told myself that no matter what, there was still a highly venomous snake in front of me.

I slowly leaned back, trying to distance myself as much as possible, at least far enough to have a chance to evade its attack and find a way to slip into the water. However, as soon as I moved slightly, the snake lunged a bit closer, its eyes fixed intently on mine, as if it knew my intentions. Every time I retreated a bit, it would come closer, maintaining a distance of just a hand’s breadth. Its drooping head made me feel completely stiff, afraid to make any sudden movements.

I found it very strange; it seemed to just want to control me. Yet this behavior was quite bizarre, as snakes are reptiles, and all their actions should be instinctual. There was no meaning in what it was doing; what did it want?

Just as I was puzzled and at a loss for what to do, I suddenly felt something brush against my ankle, as if something had come up from the bottom of the water.