The observations of Gamma Star continued. The mysterious symbol never reappeared, but the star's own "pulse"—its regular fluctuations in brightness—and its increasingly clear time-delayed correlation with the anomalous spiritual pressure of Azure Nether Star, convinced Li Wei that the key clue lay in the starry sky.
He improved the bronze mirror. Using a discarded "moonlight moss" gel from the Hundred Herbs Garden, possessing certain light-transmitting and spirit-guiding properties, he layered it between the lenses, enhancing its sensitivity to faint starlight in specific wavelengths. The data in the observation log grew richer, the curves more refined, and a rough model of the energy (or information) transmission channel between Gamma Star and Azure Nether Star was painstakingly taking shape in his mind.
However, danger was also approaching.
First, his own anomalies began to become increasingly difficult to conceal. The continuous, high-intensity observations and deductions seemed to be invisibly stimulating his chaotic spiritual root. Sometimes, when he gazed at the starry sky for too long, a cold, slightly salty liquid would involuntarily flow from his eyes—not tears, but physiological exudate produced when his overactive spiritual senses interacted with unknown stellar energy. During the day, his sensitivity to changes in the surrounding spiritual energy also increased daily, occasionally causing momentary dizziness or auditory hallucinations (hearing sounds like distant buzzing or metallic scraping) due to sudden fluctuations in spiritual pressure.
Secondly, the atmosphere within the sect grew increasingly tense. The area of spiritual vein decay was expanding, and the speed was not slowing down. Rumors circulated that the spiritual eyes of several important inner sect caves were also beginning to deteriorate. The higher-ups were furious, and the investigation intensified. Several disciples whose recent behavior was "abnormal" or whose cultivation progress was "strange" were questioned, and one disciple who privately researched forbidden techniques was stripped of his cultivation and expelled from the sect.
Li Wei walked on thin ice. He reduced the number of times he observed from fixed locations and began guerrilla warfare. Traces of his brief stays were visible on the rocky cliffs of the back mountain, deep within abandoned mines, and even at the edge of the sect's cemetery at night. Data collection had become difficult and dangerous.
The unexpected happened on a dark night with a waning crescent moon.
Li Wei chose to observe from a secluded ravine called "Cold Crow Valley" on the north side of Qingming Mountain. The area was heavy with yin energy, and ordinary disciples avoided it, but its higher elevation offered a wide view. He placed his improved bronze mirror on a protruding eagle-beak rock, adjusted the angle, and aimed it at Gamma Star.
Tonight's data was crucial. According to his calculations, if the "delayed transmission" model was correct, then a specific phase of Gamma Star tonight should correspond to a theoretical peak in the spiritual pressure fluctuations of the northern region of Qingming Mountain. He needed to verify it.
Just as he was intently recording the subtle changes in starlight, an extremely faint rustling sound, certainly not from the mountain wind or any animal, came from his side and behind. The sound was too soft, too "slippery," like a special fabric rubbing against rock, or perhaps... the rapid movement of some kind of arthropod.
Li Wei's hair stood on end. Years of caution prevented him from turning around immediately. He maintained his observation posture, his left hand stealthily reaching into his robes—where, besides his charcoal pencil, lay a fragment of star-patterned steel with its edge sharpened.
The sound stopped. Less than three zhang behind him.
Dead silence. Only the faint sound of water at the bottom of the ravine and the distant hooting of owls.
Cold sweat trickled down Li Wei's back. Slowly, extremely slowly, he moved the eyepiece of his bronze mirror away, glancing at the source of the sound out of the corner of his eye.
The moonlight was too dim; he could only vaguely make out a blurry outline, almost blending into the shadow of the rock wall. Humanoid, but taller and thinner than usual, its posture somewhat strange, as if its joint structure was different from that of ordinary people. Most chillingly, the head of that outline seemed to have no reflection—no eyes, or perhaps a completely light-absorbing mask. Not a member of the sect. Absolutely not.
Li Wei's heart pounded. He remembered the equation at the bottom of the Azure Spring revealing an "external high-energy pool," the mysterious symbols beside Gamma Star, and the absurd speculations about "extraterrestrial visitors" in You Xingzi's notes…
The dark figure seemed to be "observing" him, or more accurately, observing the bronze mirror before him and the direction of the starry sky it pointed to. A cold, indifferent, inhuman sense of being watched enveloped Li Wei, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
He couldn't just sit and wait to die.
Li Wei suddenly lunged forward and sideways, simultaneously yanking hard on the rope holding the bronze mirror! He would rather destroy this instrument, which he had painstakingly improved, than let it fall into the hands of this strange being!
"Crack!" The bronze mirror was pulled from Eagle's Beak Rock, crashing against the protruding rock below. The sound of the mirror warping and the lens shattering was particularly jarring in the silent valley.
Almost simultaneously, the dark figure moved! Faster than Li Wei's dynamic visual perception could perceive, like a flowing ink streak across the ground, it instantly traversed several meters, not lunging at Li Wei, but at the fallen bronze mirror wreckage!
Li Wei, in his descent, rolled on the ground, his sharp, star-patterned steel blade hurled without hesitation towards the predicted path of the dark figure! Not aiming for a vital spot, but merely to obstruct it.
"Clang!" A faint yet unusually crisp metallic clang rang out. The star-patterned steel blade seemed to have struck something hard, bouncing away and disappearing into the darkness.
The dark figure's movement was thus momentarily halted. In that instant, Li Wei scrambled and rolled, leaping without hesitation down the steeper slope on the other side of Eagle's Beak Rock! He knew the terrain well, knowing that below lay a dense thicket of thorny bushes and a pile of rocks.
Fall. Tumble. Thorns tore at his clothes and flesh. Pain shot through him, yet he felt only a chilling clarity, a desperate escape from danger. He gritted his teeth, silencing all sound, and using the steep slope and vegetation for cover, rolled down the slope like a real stone.
Above, a faint, metallic hissing sound echoed, a sound that seemed to express displeasure or doubt. Then came the soft rustling of clothes against the rocks, fading into the distance.
The dark figure didn't pursue. Perhaps it was disdain, perhaps the bronze mirror was destroyed, the target gone, or perhaps… other concerns.
Li Wei rolled until he reached the edge of a cold stream at the bottom of the ravine before finally stopping. His body ached terribly, his clothes were tattered, and he bore numerous abrasions and puncture wounds. He collapsed by the stream, gasping for breath, the icy air burning his throat.
The bronze mirror was destroyed. At least for now. But something more important—the logbook in his arms, and the data and models deeply imprinted in his mind—remained.
He struggled to sit up, gazing above the deep, dark Raven Ravine, which resembled the maw of a colossal beast. The starry sky remained unchanged, Gamma Star flickering coldly through the broken clouds.
He knew that what he had inadvertently glimpsed was merely the tip of the iceberg. Behind the depletion of the spiritual veins lay far more than internal power struggles within the sect or unknown geological catastrophes. Something, from among the stars, or beyond, had already set its gaze upon Azure Star, upon this still-struggling, bewildered civilization of cultivation.
And he himself, this insignificant servant, seemed to have entered the aftershocks of that gaze because of his strange spiritual root and his untimely "observation."
A ripple of light was insufficient to describe it.
A storm was brewing, and in his hands, only a few shards of glass and a journal filled with questions remained.