As dusk settled, I squatted by the back wall of the Library Pavilion, waiting for the Night Patrol disciples to pass. Wind rushed down from the eaves, making the Grass Ash on my sleeve cuffs swirl wildly. I stared at the back of my hand; the Demonic Qi was still there, like iron filings embedded beneath the skin, feeling faintly heavy whenever I stilled.
Lu Jiuxuan gave me three days; today was the second.
I touched my chest. The Pendant was warm against my skin, neither beating nor burning, but the vibration coming from the north was stronger than last night. It wasn't aimed at the Academy; it was aimed at me.
I needed to know why it recognized me.
The latch on the Library Pavilion door was made of ironwood, old enough that the keyhole was slightly skewed. I pulled a finely ground Copper Wire from my sleeve, inserted it, and gave a gentle flick. With a soft click, the door gap loosened by half an inch. This was a skill learned in the Scrap Market—those who scavenge broken Magical Artifacts always know how to pick a few locks.
No lamps were lit inside. Moonlight sliced in through the high windows, outlining rows of bookshelves. The sound-dampening Barrier was already active; movement was limited to three steps, and turning a page could not exceed Three Breaths, or the Alarm Bell would ring, and the Hall of Deacons would arrive within half an hour.
I crept along the wall, shuffling forward, pressing the soles of my shoes against the floor cracks. The Forbidden Book section was at the very back, separated by a Bronze curtain. I crouched down, pulled a small packet of lard from my robes—swiped from the Mess Hall yesterday—and smeared it on my fingertips; it could dampen sound. Opening a Forbidden Book required blood to unseal it; everyone knew this rule, but no one said the blood had to be from a living person. I bit my thumb until it bled and dripped the blood onto the curtain hook. The rust dissolved instantly upon contact, and the curtain slid open silently.
《Star Gazing Clan Bloodline traits》 It was on the third shelf, its cover dark brown, like dried mud. I pulled it out, and the moment my fingers touched the cover, the Pendant suddenly grew hot.
I ignored it, lowered my head, bit my thumb, and pressed it onto the center of the book cover. The instant the blood soaked in, the pages emitted an Ethereal Blue Light, and the text emerged.
“When the Star Gazing Clan Bloodline Awakening occurs, the internal Star Mark enters Resonance, capable of manifesting Relics…”
I held my breath and turned the pages one by one. My fingertips, slick with lard, moved as lightly as if picking up scrap copper pieces. The book stated that Relics like the Pendant could absorb Demonic Qi and also reflect the person of Predestined Fate—but it didn't say how it reflected them, nor whether the reflection would be friend or foe.
As I turned to the chapter on "Bloodline Resonance," before I could finish reading the line, the Pendant suddenly grew scalding hot, as if something had bitten it.
My hand jerked, and the book nearly fell.
I looked down. The Pendant was stuck to the page, like a magnet gripping iron. The ink was slowly being drawn toward it. I quickly tried to pull it away, but it wouldn't budge an inch; in fact, the absorption accelerated. The text on the page faded, and the Blue Light dimmed. The entire book looked as if its soul had been drained.
“What are you doing?”
I cursed under my breath and gripped the Pendant tightly. My palm burned, and suddenly a Star Map materialized before my eyes—not one drawn on paper, but suspended in the air, moving.
At the center of the Star Map was a silver sword shape, trembling slightly, as if blown by the wind. Around the edges was wrapped a Bronze Ghost Mask, half scorched and half pitch black, with a Lamp Flame flickering in its eye sockets. Connecting the sword and the Ghost Mask was a Red Thread, so thin it was almost invisible, yet it kept shaking, looking ready to snap at any moment.
I recognized that sword.
And I recognized that Ghost Mask.
My Heartbeat slammed against my Ribs.
I immediately clapped my hands together, extinguishing the Star Map. The Pendant rolled into my collar, still hot against my chest. The book was empty now; all the ink was gone, leaving only blank pages.
I shoved it back onto the shelf, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. There was still some Grass Ash left in my sleeve; I pulled it out, intending to draw a mark on the floor—at least to preserve the sword shape.
Just as I squatted down, I heard the sound of a bookshelf moving behind me.
It wasn't footsteps; an entire row of shelves was sliding apart, as if pushed by something. A gust of wind blew from behind me, carrying the smell of tar, mixed with the scent of Rust and rotting flesh.
I froze.
I had smelled that odor once before, in the Scrap Heap. Three years ago, I was digging through a broken furnace in the Northern Wasteland Scrap Market; someone had been burned inside, their bones dissolved, leaving only this smell.
I slowly turned around.
Situ Lie stood between the two rows of shelves, holding a Soul Devouring Lamp in his left hand. Its Lamp Flame was grayish-blue, flickering faintly. He wasn't wearing a full-face Mask, only covering the left half; the Scar on his right cheek crawled from his ear to his jawline, like a dead snake plastered to his skin.
He didn't speak, nor did he move.
I took a step back, my heel bumping against the bookshelf, making a slight sound.
The Alarm Bell didn't ring.
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if smiling.
“So you’ve been looking for me for a long time.”
His voice was low, like sandpaper grinding stone.
I didn't answer.
He raised his hand, pushing the Soul Devouring Lamp forward half a foot. The Lamp Flame jumped, illuminating the Shadow at my feet—shorter than me, shoulders hunched, like a youth. But he knew I wasn't one.
“What are you investigating?” he asked.
“Nothing,” my throat was dry, but my voice didn't shake. “Academy coursework.”
“Coursework?” He chuckled softly. “Using blood to open a Forbidden Book, secretly reading Star Gazing Clan secrets, just to turn in coursework?”
My hand slowly retreated into my sleeve. I had a little Grass Ash left; it could blind him, but he was too far away to hit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m just a Menial Laborer student.”
He didn't move, but the Lamp Flame suddenly tilted toward me, as if blown by the wind. Yet there was no wind in the pavilion.
“The smell on you,” he stared at me, his nostrils twitching slightly. “It’s very familiar. Thirty years ago, I smelled it once too—that night, the bonfire burned all night, and the heart was still beating when it was dug out.”
My fingers tightened.
He knew who I was.
But he wasn't in a hurry.
He stood there, as if waiting for something.
I slowly retreated, step by step, until my back hit the opposite bookshelf. Moonlight streamed down from the high window, slicing across his Ghost Mask—half illuminated, half dark. On the dark side, the Scar seemed to move, as if something underneath was trying to break through.
I didn't run.
It would be useless even if I did. He could smell me, like a dog smelling blood.
I only counted in my head.
Three days.
Two days left.
He suddenly raised his hand and shone the Soul Devouring Lamp onto the floor. The Lamp Flame swept across the tiles and stopped on a patch of ash—the Grass Ash I had scattered earlier. It hadn't dispersed, faintly outlining half a sword shape.
He stared at that patch of ash, silent.
I held my breath.
He slowly looked up, his gaze falling on my face.
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked.
“I am,” I replied. “But fear is useless.”
He paused for Two Breaths, then suddenly turned. The bookshelves closed behind him with a sound as soft as falling leaves. He walked very slowly; his boot soles made no noise, as if he were treading on another layer of ground.
Only when he vanished at the edge of the moonlight did I let out half a breath of relief.
I pulled my hand out of my sleeve; it was covered in sweat.
I looked down at the patch of Grass Ash.
The sword shape was still there, but the area the Lamp Flame had swept over was blackened, as if burned.
I squatted down and used my fingertip to wipe away that patch of black ash.
The sword remained a sword.
But I knew he had seen it.
I slowly stood up, returned the book to its place, and rehung the Bronze curtain. When I left, I didn't take the original path. I circled around to the side window, and as I climbed out, I casually ripped off a piece of window screen and stuffed it into my sleeve.
The wind picked up, making the eaves bells of the Library Pavilion chime softly.
I walked back along the wall, my steps heavier than when I arrived.
The Pendant against my chest was still hot.
The vibration from the north had returned.