Clutching the Archive Pavilion access token, Lin Rui stepped onto the first floor of the Lin family's library.
The light inside was dim, the air filled with the unique, musty scent of old books mingled with sandalwood. Towering bookshelves reached the ceiling, partitioning the space into a labyrinth. The shelves were crammed with a dazzling collection of bamboo slips, beast-hide scrolls, and yellowed paper volumes.
His goal was clear. He needed to identify the origin of the sachet worn by the black-cloaked figure. Its peculiar twisted vine pattern felt like a key—one that could earn him merit and solidify his position within the family.
Lin Rui walked to the reference desk. An old man with graying hair, dressed in the dark gray robes of a deacon, was hunched over a pile of ancient texts. A small, single-lens tortoiseshell eyeglass perched on his nose, his dry, thin finger occasionally stroking the pages.
"Greetings, Senior," Lin Rui said with a slight bow.
The old man slowly looked up. His gaze, magnified by the lens, held a hint of appraisal as it landed on Lin Rui's face.
"What is it?" His voice was hoarse, as if from long disuse.
"Junior has just come to the Archive Pavilion for the first time," Lin Rui said humbly. "I was hoping you could tell me how the texts on this floor are categorized."
The old man carefully closed the scroll in his hands.
"The first floor contains foundational texts," he said in a slow, deliberate manner. "To the left, you will find the Lin family's introductory cultivation methods, geographical records of Qingluo Prefecture, catalogues of spiritual plants, basic talismans, and notes from our sages. To the right, you will find Zhuyun Town's local history, chronicles of strange phenomena, and various miscellaneous tales."
Lin Rui nodded. The categorization was clear enough.
"In that case, if I wish to look up special materials, or a certain peculiar pattern, which section should I go to?"
The old man pushed his eyeglass up his nose, a flicker of interest in his eyes.
"For materials, search the 'Spiritual Plant Catalogues' and 'Introduction to Artifact Refining' sections. However," he paused, tapping the desk, "if what you seek is uncommon, I suggest you also look at the 'Zhuyun Town Local History'—specifically the section on the rise and fall of old shops. There is also a small collection on 'Artisan Genealogies,' which occasionally contains lost crafts and special maker's marks."
"Thank you for your guidance, Senior."
Lin Rui followed the old man's directions, heading first toward the sections on spiritual plants and artifact refining. Among the tall shelves, he carefully perused books documenting all kinds of strange flowers, herbs, and ores. Some pages had lifelike illustrations; others used cinnabar ink to mark the distribution of ore veins.
After an hour, he had found nothing. The twisted vine pattern on the sachet matched no known spiritual plant or common refining motif.
So, he moved on to the area dedicated to the history of Zhuyun Town.
Time trickled by. The light from the window faded, then gradually brightened again with the first light of dawn.
Lin Rui rubbed his sore eyes. A small stack of scrolls had piled up in front of him, but the sachet remained a mystery.
Just as he was about to take a break, his fingertips brushed against a thick, worn book he hadn't yet opened. The title was illegible: A Record of Zhuyun Town's Hundred-Year-Old Shops.
He flipped through it. It mostly recorded shops that had long since faded into obscurity. Blacksmiths, silk shops, rouge stores... most of it was trivial.
It wasn't until the last few pages that a small, inconspicuous footnote caught his eye.
Ink-Mark Forge, East Town, blacksmith. Abandoned for over sixty years. Once famous for forging 'Ink-Patterned Ironware.' This ironware, without any carving, naturally formed black, vine-like patterns of a strange and exquisite nature. It was rumored to have the effect of 'warding off spirits and repelling filth,' and was popular among traveling merchants for protection on night journeys. The last master artisan, surname unknown, was called 'Old Eccentric Mo.' He was solitary and taciturn. In his later years, he became obsessed with forging forbidden objects, wishing to craft an item that could 'lock the soul and bind the spirit.' Later, a fire of unknown origin broke out in the shop. Old Eccentric Mo perished in the flames. The forge has been abandoned ever since.
"Ink-Patterned Ironware... vine-like patterns..."
Lin Rui's breath caught. The description was a perfect match.
"Warding off spirits… lock the soul and bind the spirit..."
Lin Rui repeated the words to himself, a chill seeping into his bones. Put together, those phrases sounded like nothing good.
He immediately set the book down and began to search the shelves again, this time for any other mention of the "Ink-Mark Forge." His efforts paid off. In a pile of old scrolls detailing property deeds, he found an early map of Zhuyun Town.
Deep in a remote alley at the eastern edge of town, a small "Mo" was marked in red ink.
So, do I go check it out?
Just then, a cool female voice came from behind him.
"These are mostly just fragments and miscellaneous notes. You can actually bring yourself to read them?"
Lin Rui froze, then slowly turned.
Lin Yueyao stood gracefully by a bookshelf three steps away, holding a heavy, azure silk-bound book. The characters for A Study of Ancient Rites were faintly visible on the cover. She had changed into the moon-white uniform of an inner-hall disciple, which made her skin look fairer than snow and gave her an air of nobility.
"Cousin Yueyao." Lin Rui nodded slightly. "Just browsing."
Her gaze swept over the messy pile of scrolls before him without lingering. She looked back down at her book, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"In a few days, it will be the 'Azure Tea Ancestor Worship Ceremony.' I came to look up some of the rites, as well as the patterns on artifacts our ancestors favored." Her voice was even but carried an undeniable seriousness.
"Azure Tea Ancestor Worship Ceremony?" Lin Rui repeated.
The original's memory of it was vague. It made sense. The old Lin Rui couldn't get near the inner hall, so an important ceremony like this would have had nothing to do with him.
"Mm, a grand ceremony our Lin family has observed for thousands of years," Lin Yueyao said, a hint of pride in her tone. "Every year at the spring equinox, the Patriarch personally offers the first-picked 'Cloud-Mist Spirit Sprouts' to the Azurewood Ancestor and all past clan leaders. The tea set, the incense burner, even the wording of the sacrificial text, all follow a strict protocol. Not the slightest mistake is permitted."
She paused, her fingertip tracing the illustration of an ancient teacup in the book.
"This concerns our family's respect for our ancestors, and our reputation in Zhuyun Town. Especially for the ancestors who made outstanding contributions. If we can reflect the styles of the artifacts they favored, it shows our filial piety and that our heritage has not been forgotten."
Lin Rui understood. Lin Yueyao strove for perfection and held the family's honor above all else. For her, this ceremony was another chance to display her mastery of tradition.
"I see. You are very dedicated, Cousin Yueyao."
She paid his words little mind. Her gaze inadvertently fell on the open copy of A Record of Zhuyun Town's Hundred-Year-Old Shops in his hand. A flicker of confusion crossed her eyes.
Lin Rui followed her gaze and gently closed the book, smiling. "Just curious about some of the town's old history. Browsing."
Lin Yueyao said coolly, "Zhuyun Town is a mixed bag. The history behind some of those old shops isn't clean. Since you're interested, it's good to learn more, lest you get schemed against and not even know it."
She paused, as if remembering something. "Speaking of which, that abandoned area on the east side has been a bit restless lately. Clansmen on night patrol report hearing strange noises—the scraping of metal, or someone chanting. But every time they investigate, the place is empty."
At her words, Lin Rui's eyes darted. A faint smile touched his lips as he leaned a little closer.
"Is that your way of giving me a hint, Cousin?"
Her fine eyebrows shot up. She scoffed and turned her face away, avoiding his probing gaze.
"Hmph. The ceremony is imminent. Grandfather said your 'ancestral manifestation' is an auspicious sign, and you will have a part to play. I have no desire to see you missing a limb before then, or causing some trouble that would mar the ceremony."
Her tone hardened. "The reputation of our Lin family is paramount. You'd better stay out of trouble."
She never misses a chance to put me in my place, Lin Rui thought. Even her concern sounds like a command.
Outwardly, he adopted the look of someone properly chastised. "Thank you for the reminder, Cousin. I understand."
As evening approached, a gloomy mist began to spread through the remote alleys near the Ink-Mark Forge ruins. It carried the pungent smell of rust and a faint hint of decay.
A few commoners heading home and two or three low-level cultivators inadvertently inhaled the strange mist. They shivered violently, their gazes going slack, their expressions turning stiff and wooden.
Pulled by unseen strings, they began to lurch with stiff limbs toward the ruins.
And from their bodies, a thick, nauseating stench of corpses began to rise.
A burly man, just leaving a tavern, recognized one of the stumbling figures.
"Hey! Old Man Zhang! What's wrong with you?" he shouted, rushing forward.
The moment his hand touched the man's arm, it was like grabbing ice-cold iron. A tremendous force repelled him, nearly knocking him to the ground. He watched in horror as Old Man Zhang's eyes turned a lifeless gray, a faint, dark mist coiling around his body.
He was a living corpse.
"A malevolent presence!" a bolder cultivator shouted, hurling a low-grade fire talisman.
The flames exploded on the man's body but only made the dark energy ripple. It didn't even singe his clothes. The wanderer kept walking, his face blank.
"What in the hell is this thing?!"
The news spread like wildfire, causing panic. Soon, a team from the Celestial Law Division arrived, led by a square-faced foreman.
"Make way! Celestial Law Division business!" he barked.
However, when they attempted to use their chain artifacts to bind the "walking corpses," they discovered that the creatures were powerful. The gloomy mist made them dizzy and nauseous. One of the young clerks began to retch the moment he came into contact with it.
"Chief, something's not right!" a clerk said, his voice trembling. "This foul energy... It's beyond what we can handle!"
The foreman's face was ashen. He spat. "Damn it, this is the work of those heretical bastards! Where are those guys from Xuanfa Hall? They're always strutting around, but when it hits the fan, where the hell are they?"
The other clerk complained, "Probably sipping spirit tea somewhere, waiting for us grunts to soften them up. Then they'll swoop in, put on a show, and take all the credit! It's the same every damn time!"
Just as they were at their wits' end, two swift figures shot toward them.
One, a dark figure like a panther, leaped across the eaves and landed without a sound. Following closely was a flash of silver, a woman who glided down like a swallow, her presence sharp and undeniable.
The dark figure landed at the mouth of the alley. It was Feng Baiye, his handsome, roguish face lit by a teasing smile.
"Well now, friends," he said, his sharp eyes sweeping over the walking corpses. "Are we performing a ritual dance, or just trying to tickle them? It's a lively scene. The smell, though... tsk, tsk, a bit overwhelming."
The foreman's expression soured. "Feng Baiye, enjoying your leisure time? We've been here for ages, choking on this deadly stench!"
The silver flash resolved into a young woman, half a head taller than he, with a stunningly cold face. On her back, she carried a long object wrapped in thick cloth. It was Yuan Wan.
She shot the foreman a cold glance. "If you weren't so incompetent that you couldn't suppress a mere foul presence, would we need to be here?"
The foreman bristled. "Lady Yuan Wan, this is a 'Supernatural Case'! It falls under your jurisdiction!"
Yuan Wan ignored him. With a flick of her wrist, a crystal-clear jade stone appeared in her palm. She tossed it into the air, where it hovered at the edge of the mist, emitting a soft white light.
After a moment, she recalled the jade. "The Spirit Web here has been artificially distorted," she said coldly. "The concentration of yin-sha energy is extremely high. The minds of these 'walking corpses' have been forcibly controlled."
The teasing look on Feng Baiye's face vanished, replaced by a cold severity.
"Mind control? Hmph. Cowardly rats who hide in the shadows. Daring to stir up trouble right under our noses? They must be tired of living! Watch me use my [Five Tones to Suppress Evil] to cleanse your filth! — [Gong Tone: Shatter Illusions, Cleanse the Mind]!"
He brought the Five-Elements Xiao to his lips. A melodious, chilling sound rang out. The moment the walking corpses heard it, their bodies shuddered, their steps faltering, their blank faces twisting in agony.
At the same time, Yuan Wan let out a cold snort. She unwrapped the object from her back, revealing a massive, broad-bladed greatsword.
"The mist is blocking our spiritual sense. Clear the field!" she shouted. Gripping the hilt, she swung it in a powerful arc.
WHOOSH—!
A powerful gust of wind, like a raging dragon, surged out and blew the gloomy mist to shreds. It revealed the dilapidated courtyard and the tightly shut black gate of the Ink-Mark Forge.
Under the dual assault, the walking corpses trembled, the gray color in their eyes fading. Moments later, they collapsed, unconscious, though the thick stench of corpses still hung in the air.
Feng Baiye put away his Xiao. "Finally, some peace. I say, Yuan Wan, next time, could you rein in that sword wind? You nearly messed up my hair."
Yuan Wan re-wrapped her greatsword. "You were too slow," she said coldly.
Just then, hurried footsteps approached. An old woman with a vigorous spirit, Granny Zhao from the Lin family's medical hall, arrived with a team of apprentices.
"Aiyo, Enforcer Feng, Enforcer Yuan, thank you for your hard work!" she said, immediately directing her team. "Quickly! Use Miasma-Cleansing Talismans, then feed them Mind-Calming Soup!"
The foreman had also recovered his wits. He directed his subordinates to disperse the crowd while slapping several talismans onto the ruins, enveloping them in a pale-yellow light barrier.
"Enforcer Feng, the area is sealed," he said respectfully.
Feng Baiye paced the alley, examining the scene. He crouched and picked up a pinch of dark powder from the ground.
"This method... they used foul yin energy and some kind of metal as a medium to craft a malevolent artifact," he said, his brow furrowed. "The purpose is either to control living souls or to refine 'yin puppets.' The technique is ancient, and it reeks of someone cutting corners."
Yuan Wan added, "The controller must be nearby, but they were gone when the sword wind cleared the field. Either their concealment skills are exceptional, or... there's some other mechanism on this site."
Feng Baiye sighed. "It would be great if we had more detailed information. The archives here are cleaner than my face, and the Xuanfa Hall's budget is a joke. Every time something happens, we have to act as our living dictionaries."
Yuan Wan snorted. "Complaining is useless. Since this is related to the 'Ink-Mark Forge,' its history could be a clue. Why don't we go to the Lin family? Their Archive Pavilion might have something."
Feng Baiye's eyes lit up. "You're right! Your mind always works faster, Yuan Wan! Let's go. We'll visit the Lin family tomorrow to 'borrow' some books!"
The next day, the weather was splendid.
Accompanied by Lin Yueyao, Feng Baiye stepped into the Lin family's Archive Pavilion. She was once again in her crisp uniform, though her expression was more solemn. Clearly, her father had officially assigned her the task of liaising with the official agencies.
Lin Yueyao walked ahead, her voice as cool as ever, but with a new layer of formal politeness.
"Enforcer Feng, my father has instructed that the Lin family will cooperate fully with the Xuanfa Hall's investigation."
Feng Baiye followed, his gaze sweeping over the towering bookshelves.
"You're too kind, Lady Yueyao. I'm sure you've heard about what happened on the east side of the market. I need to review all texts related to the 'Ink-Mark Forge,' 'Ink-Patterned Ironware,' forbidden forging techniques, and any lore involving 'controlling living souls' or 'yin puppets.' Time is of the essence."
"Naturally." Lin Yueyao nodded, leading him deeper into the pavilion. "The relevant texts are mostly on the second floor, in the 'Miscellaneous Records' and 'Rare Artisan Manuals' sections. The first floor also has some local histories that might provide clues."
They walked past row after row of shelves, the mixed scent of sandalwood and old paper growing stronger. Just as they were about to turn toward the staircase, Feng Baiye's steps faltered.
Not far away, by a window, a figure was sitting, engrossed in a yellowed bamboo scroll. The morning sun, filtering through the carved lattice, cast dappled shadows on him, softening his handsome profile. His focused expression was, Feng Baiye thought, surprisingly easy on the eyes.
A smile touched Feng Baiye's lips. He sauntered over, wearing his signature grin that seemed bright enough to illuminate the entire archive.
"Well now, young man, you seem quite absorbed. I am Feng Baiye of the Xuanfa Hall. May I ask your name?"
Lin Rui lowered the scroll and looked up.
The man before him wore a black-and-silver robe and stood tall and straight, his smile so brilliant it was almost blinding. But his eyes were sharp, carrying a hint of appraisal. Lin Rui smiled faintly, stood, and offered a cupped-fist bow.
"I am Lin Rui, a disciple of the Lin family. A pleasure, Enforcer Feng."
"Lin Rui?" Feng Baiye repeated, a playful glint in his eyes. "So you're that 'ancestral manifestation' Lin Rui! I've heard a great deal about you. Zhuyun Town has certainly been more lively lately because of you."
Listening from the side, Lin Yueyao had already rolled her eyes a thousand times.
This Feng Baiye, she thought, was such a chatterbox.
She cleared her throat, interrupting their pleasantries, her face maintaining its noble composure.
"Enforcer Feng, this is my cousin. As it happens, he has also been studying texts like the Record of Zhuyun Town's Hundred-Year-Old Shops and has gained some insights into the town's old affairs. I think you two might have much to discuss."
She paused, offering a perfectly measured look of apology.
"I still have preparations to make for the 'Azure Tea Ancestor Worship Ceremony,' so I will not disturb you. I have already spoken with the steward. If you have any needs, please do not hesitate to ask."
With a slight nod, she turned and departed, her posture as elegant as ever.
Lin Rui watched her leave, chuckling to himself. This cousin of mine… she's certainly good at making excuses.
Feng Baiye stroked his chin, watching her retreating figure with a soft "tsk, tsk."
"This young lady of your clan really has… personality. However," his tone shifted as his gaze returned to Lin Rui, his smile unwavering, "she did remind me of something. So, little brother Lin Rui, did you happen to make any interesting discoveries? For instance, about that ruined forge in the east of town?"
Lin Rui's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive.
"Why do you ask, Enforcer? I was just curious about the past."
Feng Baiye raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
"Oh? Just browsing? But I heard that not only did our little brother Lin Rui have an 'ancestral manifestation,' but he also has a very sharp mind. Didn't you just help root out a traitor in the Alchemy Division? I imagine you must have some unique insights into these old, cold cases, no?"