The morning light had just climbed onto the Window Lattice, and the Herb Ash on my sleeve cuff was not yet dry.
When that blue thread shattered into powder last night, there was a faint smell of Rust in the wind. Now it was back, clinging to the eaves of the Corridor, thinner than last night, almost invisible, but I could feel it—like a needle lightly tracing my skin.
I lowered my head and patted my robe, the ash falling down, covering the burning Broken Chain on the inside of my wrist. The matter of the Library Pavilion could not be revealed; Lu Jiuxuan was still unconscious, and no one could block one attempt for me.
The Bell Toll for the Deduction Class sounded three times, and the students entered the hall one after another. I chose a corner seat in the back row, spread out my notes, pressed my pen tip onto the paper, and trembled slightly. It was an Academy rule that the newly arrived top student had to preside over the first round of Star Track practice. I knew he would come, I just hadn't expected it so soon.
The hall quieted for half a beat the moment Situ Mo entered.
He was still wearing that Black Robe, the collar open, twirling a Half-broken saber between his fingertips, his steps unhurried. But with every step he took, the cloth wrapped around the Broken Chain on my chest would vibrate once, as if being pulled by something.
He swept his gaze over the crowd, and his eyes stopped on me.
“Ye Zhen.” When he pronounced my name, the final syllable dragged a bit, “Come up.”
No one responded. I remained seated.
“Twin Star Track deduction, those whose vital energy channels clash are the best match.” He leaned against the edge of the podium, the tip of his saber lightly tapping the desk, “You and I are a perfect fit.”
There were low murmurs among the students. This kind of practice was supposed to be done by drawing lots, but he called my name directly. I slowly stood up, steadying my steps, and deliberately knocked over the Talisman Paper box on the adjacent table as I walked up. Papers scattered across the floor, and a few people bent down to pick them up.
He didn't stop me.
I stood firmly in front of the platform, palm facing up. He raised his hand, and a faint Purple Light haloed around his fingertips—a sign of Demonic Power manifesting externally. He was going to draw a talisman, not the Star Track Diagram used for ordinary deduction, but a Blood Tracing Talisman for verifying lineage.
I held my breath.
His finger landed in my palm, a stroke, a hook, his movements very light. The Talisman Pattern had just taken shape, it was cyan—a normal reaction. But when his force increased slightly, touching the dangling Broken Chain from my sleeve, the talisman suddenly changed.
Cyan turned blood red.
I immediately flicked my hand back, scattering the remaining Herb Ash from my sleeve onto my palm, and smeared it over the talisman in one motion. The ash powder moistened, blurring the Talisman Pattern, like old Talisman Paper ruined by dampness. I stepped back half a pace, my heel hitting the table leg, my body swaying, and I pulled my hand away as I stumbled.
“My hand slipped,” I said.
He didn't pursue.
But the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
A student whispered from below, “Did that talisman just… change color?”
“You must have seen wrong, it was probably the light playing tricks.”
Situ Mo raised his hand, signaling for quiet. He stared at me, a flash of Red Light in his Purple Eyes, then it receded.
“Again,” he said.
I didn't move.
“Scared?” He stepped forward half a pace, his voice dropping slightly, “Or… guilty conscience?”
I looked up at him. He was too close, so close I could smell the cool fragrance from his sleeve, like the scent of an aged scabbard soaked in rain. He suddenly reached out, as if to steady me, but was actually using the momentum to draw nearer.
A sentence reached my ear, the final tone trembling slightly, like a plucked zither string.
“It really is the aura of the Star Gazing Clan,” he said. “Where is the Star Disk hidden?”
That voice didn't just enter through my ears. It drilled into my mind, like a thread tugging at the edges of my Memory. My vision went black, and Firelight flashed—a burning Palace Hall, a Silver-Haired Youth covered in bloodstains, me shoving a Pendant into his hand, and turning to rush into the raging flames.
I bit my tongue tip.
The pain brought me back.
I looked up sharply, mimicking Lu Jiuxuan’s usual indifferent tone: “Classmate Situ, shouldn't one state the deduction formula before calculating in class?”
He paused for a moment.
I raised my hand to adjust my Hair Ribbon, naturally rubbing a pinch of Herb Ash onto the fingertips of the hand he had extended. The ash was mixed with some charcoal powder from the stove bottom, which could interfere with Demonic Power perception. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and he withdrew his hand.
“Formula?” He gave a light Cold Laugh, “You certainly remember the rules.”
He stepped back two paces and turned to face everyone, “Today’s practice ends here.”
No one spoke.
I turned and stepped off the platform, my steps steady, my back straight. When I reached the door, I deliberately slowed down, pulled out the piece of cloth wrapped around the Broken Chain from my sleeve, and pretended to lose my grip, letting it slip into a Brick Crevice. A corner of the cloth was exposed, like something accidentally dropped.
I turned out of the Corridor, not heading back to the dormitory, but leaping onto the beam tops, hiding behind the crossbeam.
A quarter of an Incense Stick's Time later, he arrived.
His footsteps were very light, almost silent. He stopped in front of the wall crevice, bent down, and pulled out that piece of cloth strip. He brought it to his nose to sniff, and his expression darkened. Then he smiled, not a Cold Laugh, nor a mocking one, but the kind of smile that suddenly relaxed a little.
He folded the cloth strip and tucked it into his sleeve.
As he turned, he looked up towards the beams, his gaze sweeping over the spot where I was hiding.
I didn't move.
He left.
I waited for Half an Incense Stick's Time before landing. I touched my chest; the Broken Chain was still there, burning fiercely. The image from the Star Disk last night was still turning in my mind, the face of that Silver-Haired Youth becoming clearer and clearer.
It wasn't an Illusion.
But how much does Situ Mo actually know? His question about the Star Disk’s whereabouts wasn't probing my Bloodline; he was after the Secret Chamber. He came to the Library Pavilion last night and forced me in public today; his actions were too fast, not like a spur-of-the-moment decision.
I looked down at my wrist.
The Herb Ash was slightly dampened by sweat, and the skin underneath was faintly red, as if scorched by something. I lifted my sleeve, and a very fine Purple Mark floated beneath the skin, like a needle prick. That was left by him when he drew the talisman; it wasn't a surface mark, but a Demonic Power Imprint that had seeped into my Meridians.
It was moving.
Crawling towards my Heart Area along my Bloodline.
I gripped my wrist and squeezed hard. It hurt, but I couldn't suppress that surge of heat. This Imprint wasn't meant to harm me; it was for tracking. He could find me by following it, as soon as my Spiritual Power Fluctuation occurred, or my emotions fluctuated violently, it would light up.
I tore off a corner of my inner garment and wrapped it around the Broken Chain, then tightly bound it with the Cloth Strip. The Pendant was gone, but the remaining chain was still vibrating, as if responding to something.
I turned and headed toward the Pharmacology Hall.
I needed to find a way to clear this Imprint. The Herb Ash could only hide it temporarily, and the charcoal powder couldn't suppress the Demonic Power permeation. I needed a medicinal catalyst that could neutralize Demonic Aura, preferably the root of a plant that had died once and come back to life—the kind of White Flower that grew by the Graveyard in the Academy Back Mountain, called "Returning Green."
Passing the Mess Hall, I saw that big man chopping meat.
He looked up at me, his eyes evasive.
I immediately turned into the side alley.
He betrayed me last night, and the way he looked at me now suggested he had been questioned by someone. Situ Mo’s actions weren't limited to the classroom; he was setting a net, closing it layer by layer.
I walked close to the wall, avoiding the main path.
I should dig up the Returning Green before dark, but I couldn't worry about that now. I had to deal with this Imprint before it fully Activated. Otherwise, the next time he got close, he wouldn't need to touch me; he could read my emotions, Memory, and even see the vision of the Star Disk Secret Chamber through this Purple Mark.
Turning the last corner, I stopped.
That blue thread had reappeared on the eaves.
Shorter than last night, it lay across a Brick Crevice, faintly glowing.
I squatted down and gently touched it with my fingernail.
The thread broke.
A gust of wind blew, and it shattered into powder.
Just like last night.
But this time, I smelled a hint of a fishy scent.
Not Rust, but blood. Extremely faint, mixed in the wind, almost imperceptible.
I stood up and didn't leave.
I stood there, staring at the spot where the powder was drifting away.
Then I slowly raised my hand, untied the cloth strip wrapped around the Broken Chain, and re-tied it.
The movement was very slow.
As if waiting for someone to watch.