Chapter 8: The Archive Without a Keeper
To destroy a book is simple.
To erase the memory of its existence is considerably more difficult.
But what if even the act of erasure could be forgotten?
The First Door
Deep beneath the Northern Wastelands, six ancient stone doors stood along the curved wall of a circular chamber.
A seventh remained concealed between the third and fourth.
Unlike the others, the seventh door bore a warning written in a language that only Ye Wuchen could understand.
YE WUCHEN IS NOT PERMITTED TO ENTER.
He had no intention of obeying the warning merely because someone had written it.
But neither did he see a reason to disregard it before understanding the surrounding ruins.
For now, the other doors were more interesting.
"Which one should we examine first?" Lin Qingyue asked.
Ye Wuchen glanced across the chamber.
"The first."
Mu Cang looked at the nearest entrance.
Its surface was covered in unfamiliar inscriptions.
"Do you know what lies behind it?"
"No."
"Then why choose that one?"
Ye Wuchen looked at him.
"Because it's the first."
Mu Cang fell silent.
Lin Qingyue turned away, concealing a faint smile.
Ye Wuchen approached the door.
Unlike the seventh entrance, this one possessed a visible mechanism.
A circular depression had been carved into its center, surrounded by nine smaller markings.
Lin Qingyue examined the arrangement.
"A formation?"
"Something similar."
She studied the markings more carefully.
"I recognize the general structure, but the sequence is strange."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
The mechanism resembled an ancient identification array.
However, its structure was incomplete.
Several connections had been deliberately left open.
It was not designed to be activated through spiritual energy alone.
Instead, it appeared to require a particular sequence of physical movements.
Ye Wuchen examined the nine markings.
Then pressed three of them.
A faint sound emerged from within the stone.
Click.
The door trembled.
Mu Cang stepped backward.
Lin Qingyue raised her talisman.
Slowly, the enormous stone slab slid aside.
Beyond it lay darkness.
Cold, dry air drifted from the opening.
It carried the faint scent of old paper.
Mu Cang's expression changed.
"Books?"
Ye Wuchen stepped through the entrance.
The others followed.
A moment later, Lin Qingyue's talisman illuminated an enormous underground library.
Thousands of stone shelves stretched into the distance.
Some rose several stories high.
Others disappeared into passages branching away from the central hall.
Ancient reading tables stood beneath pillars carved with unfamiliar symbols.
Stone lamps lined the walls.
The architecture was magnificent.
But the shelves were empty.
Almost all of them.
Mu Cang slowly turned in a circle.
"This..."
His voice echoed through the vast chamber.
Lin Qingyue stared at the endless rows of vacant shelves.
"Was this once a library?"
Ye Wuchen approached the nearest shelf.
A small inscription was carved beneath it.
He examined the characters.
They identified a collection of historical records.
But the title was incomplete.
Several characters had vanished.
Not worn away.
Not scratched out.
Simply absent.
He moved to another shelf.
The same phenomenon.
A third.
A fourth.
Some labels retained only a single character.
Others were completely blank.
Mu Cang approached a nearby reading table.
He ran his fingers across its surface.
There was almost no dust.
"Someone maintained this place."
Lin Qingyue looked around.
"But there's no one here."
"That doesn't mean no one has been here," Mu Cang replied.
Ye Wuchen examined the shelves.
Their surfaces showed no signs of ordinary damage.
There were no broken bindings.
No scattered pages.
No evidence of hurried removal.
If someone had emptied the library, they had done so with extraordinary care.
Or the books had disappeared through some other means.
He turned toward the others.
"Don't disturb anything unnecessarily."
Lin Qingyue nodded.
Mu Cang looked surprised.
"You intend to preserve the evidence?"
"Naturally."
The old scholar smiled faintly.
For the first time since entering the ruins, he seemed genuinely pleased.
The Man Behind the Desk
They explored the library for nearly half an hour.
The shelves continued farther than Lin Qingyue's spiritual sense could comfortably reach.
Several passages led into additional chambers.
Some contained empty cabinets.
Others held stone tablets with missing inscriptions.
One room contained hundreds of sealed scroll cases.
Every case was empty.
Mu Cang grew increasingly troubled.
"Why build such an enormous archive if nothing remains inside?"
Ye Wuchen did not answer.
They eventually reached the central hall.
A circular platform stood beneath a dome-shaped ceiling.
At its center rested a wooden desk.
Behind the desk sat an elderly man.
His hair was white.
His face was deeply wrinkled.
He wore dark scholar's robes decorated with silver thread.
His hands rested neatly upon the desk.
His eyes were closed.
Lin Qingyue stopped.
"Someone's here."
Mu Cang hurried forward.
"Senior?"
The old man did not respond.
Mu Cang approached cautiously.
"Senior, can you hear me?"
Silence.
Lin Qingyue extended her spiritual sense.
Then frowned.
"I can't detect any life force."
Mu Cang's expression changed.
"Is he dead?"
Ye Wuchen examined the figure.
"No."
Lin Qingyue looked at him.
"But there's no life force."
"Because he isn't alive."
Ye Wuchen approached the desk.
The elderly figure was extraordinarily detailed.
Its skin possessed realistic wrinkles.
Its robes contained individual threads.
Even the faint veins beneath its hands had been reproduced.
Yet beneath that appearance, Ye Wuchen detected an intricate arrangement of ancient formations.
"A recording construct," he said.
Lin Qingyue blinked.
"A puppet?"
"Not exactly."
Ordinary puppets were designed to move, fight, or perform simple tasks.
This construct had a different purpose.
It stored information.
Its body was merely a means of communicating with visitors.
Ye Wuchen examined the desk.
A small circular symbol was carved into its surface.
A circle divided by a vertical line.
He placed his hand beside the symbol.
A faint vibration passed through the wood.
The elderly figure opened its eyes.
Mu Cang stumbled backward.
Lin Qingyue immediately reached for her sword.
The construct looked at them.
Its eyes were gray and expressionless.
Then it spoke.
"Visitors detected."
Its voice was calm.
Neither old nor young.
"Welcome to the archive."
Mu Cang stared at it.
"You can speak?"
"Yes."
"Who are you?"
The figure inclined its head.
"I am the last appointed keeper of this archive."
Ye Wuchen examined it.
"Are you the original keeper?"
"No."
"Where is the original keeper?"
"Information unavailable."
"Who appointed you?"
A brief pause followed.
"Information unavailable."
Mu Cang looked at Ye Wuchen.
"That isn't particularly helpful."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"No."
The construct continued.
"Visitors may submit inquiries concerning preserved historical materials."
Lin Qingyue glanced at the empty shelves.
"Preserved materials?"
"Yes."
"Where are they?"
The construct remained silent for several breaths.
Then replied:
"Most materials are currently unavailable."
Mu Cang looked around.
"Most?"
"Yes."
"How many records did this archive originally contain?"
The construct lowered its gaze.
A faint light appeared beneath the desk.
"Calculating."
Several seconds passed.
Then the keeper spoke.
"Original collection count: unavailable."
Mu Cang frowned.
"Current collection count?"
"Current accessible collection count: one."
Silence filled the hall.
Lin Qingyue looked toward the endless shelves.
"One?"
"Correct."
Mu Cang laughed bitterly.
"An archive this large, and only one book remains?"
The construct did not respond.
Ye Wuchen looked at the figure.
"Then let's discuss what happened to the others."
No Removal Order
"Who ordered the records removed?"
The keeper turned toward Ye Wuchen.
"No removal order was issued."
Mu Cang frowned.
"What?"
Ye Wuchen continued.
"Were the records destroyed?"
"No destruction order was issued."
"Transferred?"
"No transfer order was issued."
"Borrowed?"
"No outstanding borrowing records exist."
Ye Wuchen examined the construct.
"Then according to your records, nothing should be missing."
The keeper remained silent.
After several breaths, it replied:
"Correct."
Lin Qingyue stared at the empty shelves.
"But they're gone."
"Correct."
Mu Cang stepped forward.
"How can both statements be true?"
The keeper did not answer immediately.
Its gray eyes remained fixed upon him.
Finally, it spoke.
"The current condition of the archive is inconsistent with its preserved administrative records."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
That was the first useful answer.
The archive had not simply been abandoned.
Its contents had disappeared without any corresponding record of removal.
Of course, that did not prove the records had been erased by some extraordinary force.
The administrative records themselves might have been damaged.
The construct might be malfunctioning.
Someone might have bypassed its procedures.
Several explanations remained possible.
But one fact was clear.
The archive's own surviving records could not account for its present condition.
Ye Wuchen looked at the keeper.
"Can your records be altered?"
"Yes."
"Under what circumstances?"
"Modification requires authorized administrative access."
"Who currently possesses that authority?"
"No administrator is registered."
"Who possessed it previously?"
"Information unavailable."
Ye Wuchen considered the answers.
"Can you detect unauthorized modifications?"
"Under normal operating conditions, yes."
"Have any been detected?"
"No."
"Are you operating normally?"
The keeper paused.
For the first time, its response was delayed.
"Operational status: partially degraded."
"Which functions are degraded?"
"Historical indexing. Collection verification. Administrative identification."
Mu Cang looked increasingly confused.
Lin Qingyue folded her arms.
"So the keeper can't remember who appointed it, doesn't know where the books went, and can't even confirm whether its records are complete."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"Correct."
"Then how much can we trust it?"
"Not much."
The construct remained motionless.
Mu Cang looked at the elderly figure.
"Can it hear us?"
"Yes," Ye Wuchen replied.
"Should we speak more politely?"
"That seems unnecessary."
The keeper spoke.
"Visitor criticism has been recorded."
Mu Cang slowly turned toward Ye Wuchen.
Ye Wuchen looked at the construct.
"Then record that your archive requires maintenance."
"Statement recorded."
He nodded.
"Good."
The Scholar's Question
Mu Cang approached the desk.
His expression had become serious.
"Keeper."
"Please state your inquiry."
"Have you preserved records of people who entered these ruins?"
"Yes."
The old scholar's breathing quickened.
"Can you search for a woman named Shen Yulan?"
The keeper remained silent.
A faint light passed through its gray eyes.
"Searching."
Mu Cang waited.
Lin Qingyue watched quietly.
After several breaths, the keeper spoke.
"Name identified."
Mu Cang's eyes widened.
"You found her?"
"An entry bearing that name exists in the surviving index."
The old scholar gripped the edge of the desk.
"Was she here?"
"Her name was entered into the archive."
"When?"
"Information unavailable."
"By whom?"
"Information unavailable."
Mu Cang's hands trembled.
"Where is she now?"
The keeper paused.
"Information unavailable."
Mu Cang lowered his head.
For a moment, he looked much older.
Then he asked another question.
"Was she real?"
The keeper looked at him.
"Please clarify."
"Did she exist?"
A brief silence followed.
"An entry bearing the name Shen Yulan exists in the surviving index."
Mu Cang closed his eyes.
It was not the answer he wanted.
But it was more than he had possessed yesterday.
Ye Wuchen watched him.
The old scholar had spent decades searching for evidence that his companions had existed.
Now he had found two separate traces.
A name carved into the corridor.
And an entry in the archive's surviving index.
Neither explained what had happened.
But together, they made simple misremembering less likely.
Mu Cang slowly released the desk.
"Thank you."
The keeper inclined its head.
"You are welcome."
The Grand Archivist
Far above the Lower Realm, within the Nine Heavens Sword Palace, a sealed chamber opened for the first time in several thousand years.
Ancient mechanisms rumbled.
A stone door covered in sword inscriptions slowly moved aside.
Beyond it lay the palace's oldest surviving archive.
Ji Wuhen entered first.
Behind him walked an elderly scholar dressed in dark blue robes.
His name was Gu Shixuan.
He served as the Grand Archivist of the Nine Heavens Sword Palace.
Unlike most high-ranking elders, Gu Shixuan rarely carried a sword.
He spent his days studying ancient texts, restoring damaged scriptures, and examining the histories of forgotten civilizations.
His cultivation was respectable.
But his reputation came from knowledge rather than combat.
"Ancestor," Gu Shixuan said, "you mentioned an inscription beneath the Ancestral Sword Monument."
Ji Wuhen nodded.
"Yes."
"May I hear the exact wording?"
Ji Wuhen stopped.
Then recited:
"The first record was never destroyed."
Gu Shixuan's footsteps halted.
Ji Wuhen turned.
"You recognize it?"
The elderly scholar frowned.
"Perhaps."
"Explain."
Gu Shixuan remained silent for several moments.
"I encountered a similar phrase in an ancient manuscript."
"When?"
"Approximately three thousand years ago."
"Which manuscript?"
Gu Shixuan thought carefully.
"The Chronicles of the Ninefold Boundary."
Ji Wuhen narrowed his eyes.
"That text predates the founding of our current palace."
"Correct."
"Where is it?"
Gu Shixuan looked toward the sealed archive.
"Inside."
They continued deeper.
Rows of ancient shelves stood beneath softly glowing formations.
Unlike the underground library in the Lower Realm, this archive remained well maintained.
Every scroll had been cataloged.
Every manuscript had been preserved.
Gu Shixuan moved confidently through the shelves.
After several minutes, he stopped before a black wooden cabinet.
He opened it.
Inside rested an ancient manuscript wrapped in protective silk.
He carefully removed it.
"The Chronicles of the Ninefold Boundary."
Ji Wuhen approached.
Gu Shixuan placed the manuscript upon a reading table.
He opened it.
The first pages contained records of ancient celestial boundaries.
The next described the migration of several immortal clans.
Then came a section concerning an unidentified historical period.
Gu Shixuan turned the page.
And froze.
The page was blank.
He stared at it.
Then turned another.
Blank.
Another.
Blank.
Ji Wuhen watched him.
"Is something wrong?"
Gu Shixuan's expression became grave.
"These pages contained writing."
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
The elderly scholar pointed toward the first blank page.
"I personally studied this section three thousand years ago."
"What did it contain?"
Gu Shixuan closed his eyes.
He searched his memory.
There had been a passage.
An ancient quotation.
Something concerning a record.
He remembered discussing it with another scholar.
He remembered copying it.
He remembered finding the wording strange.
But the exact text...
His eyes opened.
"I cannot remember."
Ji Wuhen remained silent.
Gu Shixuan looked at the blank pages.
"I know I read it."
His voice became quieter.
"I know I copied it."
"Where is the copy?"
Gu Shixuan opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
"That..."
He looked toward the surrounding shelves.
"I don't remember."
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Ji Wuhen asked:
"Has anyone entered this archive recently?"
"No one without authorization."
"Could the pages have been replaced?"
Gu Shixuan examined the binding.
"The manuscript appears intact."
"Could the writing have faded?"
"Perhaps."
But his expression suggested he doubted it.
Ji Wuhen looked at the blank pages.
The Ancestral Sword Monument had concealed a symbol.
That symbol had disappeared after being discovered.
Beneath it lay an inscription referring to the first record.
Now an ancient manuscript associated with similar wording contained blank pages.
He could not yet determine whether these events shared a cause.
But the coincidence was becoming difficult to ignore.
"Grand Archivist."
"Yes, Ancestor?"
"Prepare a list of every manuscript containing references to forgotten ages, unnamed celestial boundaries, or missing historical records."
Gu Shixuan nodded.
"That will be an extensive undertaking."
"I know."
"How far back should I search?"
Ji Wuhen looked toward the blank manuscript.
"As far as our records allow."
The Phoenix's Question
Within the Phoenix Race's ancestral sanctuary, Feng Qingluan continued studying the golden feather.
The fragmentary image had not changed.
A celestial assembly.
Countless kneeling figures.
A throne obscured by darkness.
Then an abrupt absence.
The inscription beneath the feather remained incomplete.
...BEFORE THE HEAVENS...
Feng Qingluan had spent several hours examining other ancestral records.
Most contained nothing relevant.
A few, however, preserved fragments of similar language.
One mentioned an ancient gathering.
Another referred to an unnamed witness.
A third contained only a question.
WHO WITNESSED THE NAMING OF THE HEAVENS?
Feng Qingluan stood before the final inscription.
Her expression was thoughtful.
"The naming of the heavens..."
An elderly priestess approached.
"Your Highness, perhaps it refers to the establishment of the present celestial order."
"Perhaps."
Feng Qingluan examined the characters.
"But why would such an event be described as something witnessed?"
The priestess considered the question.
"Could it have been a ceremony?"
"Possibly."
Feng Qingluan turned toward the ancestral flames.
The Upper Realm possessed countless legends concerning its origins.
Some claimed the heavens had always existed.
Others described primordial chaos giving birth to the first celestial laws.
Ancient clans preserved their own accounts.
Yet none of those histories agreed completely.
She had always considered the contradictions natural.
After all, civilizations remembered their beginnings differently.
But the repeated appearance of these unfamiliar phrases suggested something worth investigating.
"Search the ancestral records," she said.
The priestess bowed.
"For what, Your Highness?"
"Any reference to the naming of the heavens."
"Understood."
Feng Qingluan paused.
"And anything mentioning an age before that event."
The priestess looked surprised.
"An age before the heavens?"
Feng Qingluan gazed into the golden flames.
"I don't know whether such an age existed."
Her voice remained calm.
"But someone once considered it important enough to record."
The Dragon Court's First Lead
Within the Ancient Dragon Court, Long Tianque examined a collection of jade slips.
Several dragon elders stood before him.
The investigation into the Immortal Tomb's disappearance had produced its first preliminary results.
An elder stepped forward.
"Your Highness, we have identified several Lower Realms that experienced unusual celestial disturbances around the time of the tomb's disappearance."
Long Tianque raised his eyes.
"How many?"
"Seventeen currently meet our preliminary criteria."
"Only seventeen?"
"Those are the ones for which we possess reliable records."
Long Tianque examined the jade slips.
Most described minor disturbances.
Unusual spiritual fluctuations.
Brief celestial anomalies.
Temporary changes in local formations.
None conclusively indicated the presence of the Immortal Tomb.
He selected one report.
It concerned an insignificant Lower Realm.
Within it lay a region governed by the Great Yan territories.
The report mentioned a brief disturbance detected by a distant observation array.
Its origin remained uncertain.
Long Tianque studied the information.
"Why was this world included?"
The elder answered:
"The disturbance occurred within the relevant period, and the region has an unusually sparse record of contact with the Upper Realm."
"Does that indicate the tomb's presence?"
"No, Your Highness."
"Then what does it indicate?"
"Only that the world deserves further examination."
Long Tianque nodded.
"A reasonable conclusion."
He set the jade slip aside.
"Assign observers to the seventeen candidate worlds."
The elder bowed.
"Shall we send descent parties?"
"Not yet."
Long Tianque looked toward the distant heavens.
"Gather information first. We do not know what caused the tomb to disappear."
He paused.
"And I have no intention of sending our people blindly into something we do not understand."
The elders bowed.
Orders were issued.
The investigation continued.
Among the seventeen candidate worlds was the Lower Realm containing Qinghe City.
But for now, it remained only one possibility among many.
The Last Remaining Book
Back beneath the Northern Wastelands, Ye Wuchen continued questioning the keeper.
"How long has this archive existed?"
"Information unavailable."
"Who constructed it?"
"Information unavailable."
"Where are its administrators?"
"Information unavailable."
Ye Wuchen regarded the elderly figure.
"You know remarkably little for an archive keeper."
The construct inclined its head.
"Your observation has been recorded."
Lin Qingyue covered her mouth.
Mu Cang looked away.
Ye Wuchen continued.
"You said one accessible book remains."
"Correct."
"Where is it?"
A faint light appeared upon the desk.
An opening formed in the wooden surface.
From within, a small rectangular compartment slowly emerged.
Inside rested a book.
Its cover was dark gray.
There was no title.
No author.
No identifying symbol.
The keeper placed it upon the desk.
"Final accessible volume."
Mu Cang leaned forward.
"May we examine it?"
"Yes."
Ye Wuchen opened the book.
The first page was blank.
He turned another.
Blank.
Another.
Still blank.
He continued until he reached the final page.
Nothing.
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"There's no writing."
Mu Cang looked disappointed.
"An empty book?"
Ye Wuchen examined the paper.
Its material was unusual.
The fibers were extraordinarily fine.
Yet there was no detectable spiritual energy within them.
He turned back to the first page.
Then the second.
The third.
Nothing appeared.
He closed the book.
"System."
[Yes, Host.]
"Analyze its material."
[Analyzing.]
[Material composition: Partially recognized.]
[Preservation condition: Stable.]
[Visible textual content: None.]
Ye Wuchen nodded.
He opened the book again.
This time, he examined the final page more carefully.
Near the lower edge, almost invisible against the pale paper, lay a faint indentation.
Not ink.
Not an ordinary inscription.
A physical impression.
He tilted the page toward the light.
Several words became visible.
A RECORD DOES NOT CEASE TO EXIST WHEN ITS CONTENT IS FORGOTTEN.
Ye Wuchen read the sentence silently.
Then looked toward the keeper.
"Who wrote this?"
The construct's gray eyes brightened.
"Please clarify."
Ye Wuchen held up the book.
"The inscription on the final page."
A brief pause followed.
"Searching."
Mu Cang watched anxiously.
The keeper remained motionless for several breaths.
Then answered:
"The first visitor."
Ye Wuchen narrowed his eyes slightly.
"The first visitor to this archive?"
"Correct."
"Who was that?"
The keeper fell silent.
Its eyes dimmed.
Then brightened again.
"Searching."
Several seconds passed.
"Searching."
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"Is something wrong?"
Ye Wuchen raised one hand.
She fell silent.
The keeper continued searching.
Finally, it spoke.
"Visitor identification unavailable."
Ye Wuchen examined the construct.
"Why?"
Another pause.
Then the keeper replied:
"That record has not yet been created."
Silence filled the hall.
Mu Cang stared at the elderly figure.
"What does that mean?"
Lin Qingyue looked equally confused.
"How can the first visitor's record not exist yet?"
The keeper did not answer.
Ye Wuchen slowly lowered the book.
He remembered the message upon the thirty-eighth step.
YOUR FIRST VISIT HAS NOT YET OCCURRED.
Now the archive had produced a similar contradiction.
A first visitor had supposedly written an inscription.
Yet the record identifying that visitor had not been created.
There were several possible explanations.
The construct might be damaged.
The archive might employ an unfamiliar method of recording events.
Or the wording might refer to something other than ordinary chronological order.
Ye Wuchen had no reason to choose one explanation yet.
He looked toward the keeper.
"Can you explain how a record can exist before it is created?"
The construct remained silent.
Then answered:
"Insufficient information."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"At least we're making progress."
Lin Qingyue looked at him.
"Progress?"
"We've established that the archive is confused."
Mu Cang gave a helpless laugh.
"That much was obvious."
Ye Wuchen closed the book.
Then looked toward the elderly construct.
"May I take this?"
The keeper inclined its head.
"Archive materials may not be removed without authorization."
"Who can authorize removal?"
"No administrator is currently registered."
Ye Wuchen considered this.
"Then I'll leave it here."
Mu Cang looked surprised.
"You aren't going to take it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I can examine it again later."
Ye Wuchen placed the book back upon the desk.
There was no need to force a confrontation over an object whose purpose remained unknown.
Instead, he turned toward the surrounding shelves.
"Keeper."
"Yes, Visitor?"
"Can you tell me whether the missing records still exist somewhere?"
The construct paused.
For several breaths, its gray eyes remained motionless.
Then it replied:
"The archive cannot confirm their destruction."
Ye Wuchen looked at it.
"That wasn't my question."
"Please restate your inquiry."
"Do you possess evidence that the missing records continue to exist?"
The keeper remained silent.
Then answered:
"One surviving reference indicates that a record may remain accessible outside the current collection."
Mu Cang's eyes widened.
"Where?"
"Location unavailable."
"What record?"
The keeper lowered its head.
"Title unavailable."
Ye Wuchen examined it.
"Can you provide the surviving reference?"
"Yes."
A faint light appeared above the desk.
Several ancient characters formed in the air.
They were incomplete.
Most had lost their original structure.
But one phrase remained readable.
THE FIRST RECORD.
Ye Wuchen stared at the words.
The same phrase.
The same mystery.
Yet this time, the archive had provided something more useful than a warning.
A surviving reference.
Evidence that the first record was not merely a symbolic expression.
It was apparently an actual item within the archive's historical system.
Whether that item still existed remained uncertain.
But the archive had once recognized it.
Ye Wuchen looked toward the keeper.
"Can you identify the last known location of that record?"
The construct paused.
"Searching."
Several seconds passed.
Then it answered:
"Last known location: unavailable."
Mu Cang sighed.
But the keeper had not finished.
"Associated classification: restricted."
Ye Wuchen raised an eyebrow.
"Restricted by whom?"
"Administrative authority."
"Which administrator?"
"Information unavailable."
Ye Wuchen considered the response.
Then asked:
"Can you identify which section of the archive was associated with the restriction?"
The keeper's eyes flickered.
"Partial reference recovered."
A faint image appeared above the desk.
It showed a circular chamber.
Seven doors stood along its walls.
Six were ordinary.
The seventh was concealed.
Ye Wuchen recognized the arrangement immediately.
The keeper spoke.
"Restricted section identified."
Mu Cang stared at the image.
Lin Qingyue slowly turned toward Ye Wuchen.
"The seventh door..."
Ye Wuchen looked at the floating image.
So the warning had not been the only clue.
The archive itself associated the first record with the forbidden section.
He remained silent for a moment.
Then asked one final question.
"Keeper, can you tell me why entry is restricted?"
The construct's gray eyes dimmed.
For several breaths, it did not respond.
Then it spoke.
"Restriction reason: unavailable."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"Very well."
He turned toward the entrance.
Mu Cang looked alarmed.
"Young man, you're not planning to open that door now, are you?"
"Not yet."
The old scholar exhaled.
Ye Wuchen continued:
"First, I want to examine the remaining five chambers."
Lin Qingyue looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because someone built an archive with seven sections."
He glanced toward the endless empty shelves.
"And I'd rather understand its arrangement before entering the one section that specifically forbids me."
Mu Cang nodded slowly.
For once, he found Ye Wuchen's reasoning entirely reassuring.
Then the black-robed young man added:
"Besides, if the warning is genuine, whoever wrote it may have left an explanation elsewhere."
He paused.
"And if it isn't genuine..."
His silver eyes remained calm.
"Then I'd like to know who thought it would work."
The First Record
Far above, within the Nine Heavens Sword Palace, Gu Shixuan carefully examined the blank manuscript.
He had discovered no signs of ordinary damage.
No missing pages.
No broken bindings.
No evidence that the text had been physically removed.
Yet the writing he remembered was gone.
Ji Wuhen stood nearby.
"Have you found anything?"
Gu Shixuan shook his head.
"Not yet, Ancestor."
He paused.
"However, I discovered something unusual."
Ji Wuhen turned.
"What?"
"The manuscript's index still contains a reference to the missing section."
Gu Shixuan opened the book to its first page.
There, beneath several surviving chapter titles, was a faint line of ancient writing.
Most of the characters were unreadable.
But the final phrase remained.
THE FIRST RECORD.
Ji Wuhen stared at it.
The same words concealed beneath the Ancestral Sword Monument.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Something had been preserved.
Something had been hidden.
And the surviving references suggested that the missing history might not be entirely lost.
He opened his eyes.
"Continue the investigation."
Gu Shixuan bowed.
"Yes, Ancestor."
Deep beneath the Northern Wastelands, Ye Wuchen left the empty library.
Lin Qingyue and Mu Cang followed.
Behind them, the elderly keeper remained seated at its desk.
Its gray eyes slowly closed.
The vast archive returned to silence.
Countless empty shelves stood beneath the ancient stone ceiling.
The missing records did not return.
The keeper offered no further explanation.
And the single surviving book remained upon the desk, its blank pages undisturbed.
For now, the archive had revealed only one undeniable fact.
Its contents were missing.
Yet its surviving administrative records contained no corresponding order for their removal.
Somewhere within the ruins, another clue might explain that contradiction.
Perhaps behind one of the remaining doors.
Perhaps behind the seventh.
Or perhaps the answer lay somewhere neither Ye Wuchen nor the keeper had yet considered.
The black-robed young man walked back into the circular chamber.
Before him stood six visible doors.
And between them, the concealed seventh.
He looked at the first record's supposed location.
Then turned toward the second door.
"Let's continue."
After eight billion years of sleep, Ye Wuchen had finally begun investigating the world that had forgotten him.
And somewhere above, the immortals of the Upper Realm were beginning their own search.
Neither investigation had yet reached the truth.
But both had discovered the same name for what they sought.
The First Record.
End of Chapter 8