Mata-mata itu tergolek di lantai, bola matanya menonjol, darah hitam bercampur busa putih mengalir dari sudut mulutnya. Bau menusuk almond pahit meledak di udara, seperti paku tak kasat mata. Yue Tingzhou berjongkok membalik lengan baju sang mata-mata. Debu bola isyarat telah beterbangan, tetapi di sela-sela jari kanan mata-mata itu masih terselip setengah lembar ujung kertas yang belum terbakar habis. Tepi kertas itu menghitam terbakar, samar-samar terlihat beberapa karakter: "Tanggal 27 bulan ketiga... Waktu Shen... He Ting." Zhu Hanli mengeluarkan surat rahasia dari dalam saku mata-mata itu—segel lilin masih utuh, tertera stempel naga melingkar Biro Kitab Takdir yang sudah tak asing lagi. Ujung jarinya mengusap alur timbul pada segel, sensasi dingin merambat naik sepanjang tulang jari. "Buka," kata Yue Tingzhou. Su Xuanqing berdiri tiga langkah di luar, jubah Taois biru-abunya tertiup angin hingga terangkat sedikit. Pandangannya tertuju pada surat rahasia itu, lalu beralih ke langit di luar ruangan yang semakin gelap. "Orang-orang Huo Qingya," suaranya berat, "telah melihat isyaratnya." "Sudah lihat pun tetap harus dibuka." Yue Tingzhou menerima surat rahasia itu, membuka segel lilinya dengan ujung pisau pendek. Halaman kertas terbentang. Baris pertama langsung membuat napasnya tercekat— 「Rol induk palsu telah disiapkan, pola sesuai 97% dengan versi asli, hanya kekurangan 'Pemandu Ikatan Darah'. Pada hari musyawarah umum, bawa rol palsu ke pertemuan, tuduh metode 'pemeriksaan rol' yang dipegang Yue dan Zhu sebagai teknik buatan pribadi, balik menuduh mereka memalsukan naskah asli Kitab Takdir. Saat itu, dukungan Paviliun Merah akan menjadi bukti palsu, reputasi seabad Su Xuanqing hancur, keduanya takkan pernah bisa bangkit lagi.」 Zhu Hanli mendekat untuk melihat, bahunya tegang seperti drum. Di bawahnya masih ada satu baris tulisan kecil: 「Jika Yue dan Zhu sudah tiba di Paviliun Merah, suruh mata-mata melepaskan isyarat, panggil pasukan Huo untuk mengepung gunung. Kepung tanpa menyerang, paksa mereka mengorbankan kekuatan diri hingga kekuatan tempur mereka melemah drastis, lalu sergap di perjalanan turun gunung. Ingat: naskah asli rol induk masih berada di Ruang Bumi Puncak Awan, dijaga langsung Shen Lichuan, jangan direbut paksa, cukup pancing mereka masuk perangkap sendiri.」 Udara membeku. Api di dalam tungku merah berderak sekali. Su Xuanqing perlahan menghela napas, napasnya membawa sedikit rasa pahit dari sinabar. "Xie Wuchen... sudah memperhitungkan kalian akan datang meminta bantuan padaku." "Dia sudah memperhitungkan," kata Yue Tingzhou melipat surat rahasia itu, menyelipkannya ke dalam saku, "tapi dia tidak memperhitungkan kami bisa mendapatkan surat ini." "Sudah dapat, lalu apa?" Su Xuanqing berbalik, mengambil sebuah kotak kayu cendana dari tempat rahasia di samping tungku merah. "Pasukan Huo Qingya sudah mengepung gunung. Setelah kalian mengorbankan tiga puluh persen kekuatan diri, kekuatan tempur kalian hanya tinggal tujuh puluh persen—tidak, luka dalammu belum sembuh, mungkin hanya tinggal lima puluh persen. Bagaimana caranya menerobos keluar?" Kotak kayu terbuka. Di dalamnya terbaring sebuah gulungan giok putih susu, permukaannya dipenuhi ukiran pola tungku merah yang rapat, terasa lembut dan hangat seperti giok hangat saat disentuh. Saat Yue Tingzhou menerimanya, ujung jarinya bisa merasakan aliran energi spiritual lembut di dalam alur pola—itu adalah metode pemeriksaan rol khusus Paviliun Merah, satu-satunya yang diakui seluruh dunia persilatan. "Menurut perjanjian," kata Su Xuanqing, "tiga hari lagi pada waktu Chen, musyawarah umum sepuluh ribu aliran dimulai. Aku akan menunjukkan gulungan giok ini di hadapan umum, membuktikan keaslian bukti yang kalian pegang. Tapi syaratnya—" dia berhenti sejenak, "kalian harus menyelesaikan pengorbanan sebelum musyawarah." "Bagaimana caranya?" tanya Zhu Hanli. "Ambil masing-masing tiga puluh persen darah murni dan kekuatan diri, campurkan lalu teteskan ke ceruk di ujung atas gulungan giok. Gulungan giok akan "Elder Su." "Speak." "Staking the hundred-year reputation of the Alchemy Pavilion to back us—" Yue Tingzhou paused, "Is it worth it?" Su Xuanqing did not answer immediately. He walked to the alchemy furnace, reached out, and lifted the lid. A surge of scorching medicinal qi billowed out, carrying the bitter, charred scent of burnt herbs. At the bottom of the furnace lay three newly formed pills, their surfaces swirling with dark golden patterns. "The Alchemy Pavilion has stood for three hundred years," he said slowly. "It wasn't built on neutrality, but on 'verifying truth.'" The lid closed again with a dull thud. "We decide the authenticity of pills. We should also decide the authenticity of contracts. If we don't even dare to verify truth and falsehood, this neutrality... is nothing but a coward's fig leaf." He turned, took two neatly folded sets of blue cloth Daoist robes from a cabinet. The robes were washed pale, but the cuffs and collars were starched stiff. They still carried the softness of sun-drying and the faint fragrance of pine and cypress. Su Xuanqing handed over the robes: "Change into these. Wearing bloodstained clothes will easily attract unnecessary attention." Zhu Hanli took the robes. The fabric felt soft and warm against her palm. She looked at Yue Tingzhou. He had already undone his outer robe, stained with dark brown blood, revealing a sweat-soaked inner garment. A fresh wound had split open on his shoulder blade, with pale red blood seeping through the edges of the bandage. Su Xuanqing handed over a warm cloth. The cloth was soaked in cinnabar water, feeling slightly hot against the skin. Zhu Hanli took it and first wiped the dried blood scabs from Yue Tingzhou's face and neck. The warm touch made his tense shoulders relax slightly—the exhaustion of seven days of continuous flight surged from the marrow of his bones like a tide. He changed into the clean robes. The fabric clung to his skin, soft as a second layer. The scent of sunshine drifted into his nostrils from the collar, mixed with the fragrance of pine resin. For a moment, he almost wanted to close his eyes and just lean against the alchemy furnace to sleep. But footsteps came from outside the hall. Light, but dense—at least a dozen people, quietly moving up from the path at the back of the mountain. The footsteps were mixed with the faint clinking of metal armor plates and the creaking of bowstrings being drawn on crossbows. Su Xuanqing's face darkened: "It's Huo Qingya's advance scouts." "They're fast," Zhu Hanli threw the cloth back into the basin and drew two short darts from behind her waist. Yue Tingzhou pressed down on her wrist. "I'll go." He walked to the hall door and peered through the crack. Night had completely fallen, but a dozen or so torches swayed on the mountain path—their orange-yellow halos forming a winding line, rapidly approaching the outer wall of the Elder's Courtyard. Beneath the torches were scouts wearing standard light armor. Each held a repeating crossbow, the cold iron arrowheads gleaming dully in the torchlight. The leader was a tall, thin man wearing half an iron mask, revealing only his eyes. Those eyes were fixed on the main gate of the Elder's Courtyard, like a hawk eyeing its prey. "They won't dare to attack by force," Su Xuanqing said in a low voice. "The Alchemy Pavilion is, after all, neutral ground. Without explicit orders from Xie Wuchen, Huo Qingya will only probe." "Even probing needs to be fought back." Yue Tingzhou pushed open the hall door. The night wind rushed in, carrying the dampness of mountain vegetation. He stood inside the threshold, his right hand loosely clenched—the faint blue aura at his fingertips reappeared, this time more solid than before, like a translucent short blade. The lead scout saw him and raised a hand, making a gesture. A dozen repeating crossbows lifted simultaneously, arrows aimed at the direction of the hall door. "Loose—" Before the word "arrows" could be uttered, Yue Tingzhou moved. He stepped out of the hall door in one stride. The aura in his loosely clenched right hand suddenly lengthened, transforming into a faint blue arc of light that slashed through the night sky. The arc did not directly attack anyone but swept along the ground—precisely severing the bowstrings of all the crossbows. The crisp snaps of breaking bowstrings echoed one after another. A dozen crossbows were rendered useless at once, arrows clattering to the ground. The scouts froze for an instant. Yue Tingzhou had already charged into the crowd, his left hand seizing the wrist of the nearest man and twisting it, his right elbow striking another in the chest. The dull thud of breaking bones mixed with short, sharp cries, exploding in the night. Zhu Hanli cut in from the side. She didn't use her short darts, opting for close-quarters combat instead—the dart master's close-fighting skills were pushed to their limit at this moment. Every punch landed on a joint or acupoint, every kick aimed at a knee or ankle. The scouts wore light armor, but their joints remained vulnerable. In the span of three breaths, three men were on the ground, unable to rise. The lead masked scout retreated two steps, drawing a curved blade from his waist. The blade was narrow and long, its edge gleaming with a bluish-black matte Ia mengerahkan tenaga sejati, kilatan energi di ujung jarinya kembali berkumpul. Namun kali ini, luka lama di dadanya tiba-tiba nyeri hebat—harga yang harus dibayar untuk memaksakan tenaga transformasi. Rasa manis berbau darah memenuhi tenggorokannya, ia mengerat gigi menelannya kembali, namun seutas darah tetap mengalir dari sudut mulutnya. Pemandu bertopeng besi itu melihatnya. Dengan tawa bengis, ia membelahkan pisau melengkungnya ke leher Yue Tingzhou. Serangan pisau itu sangat cepat, disertai suara mendesing memecah udara. Yue Tingzhou menghindar ke samping, kilatan energi tangan kanannya menyambut mata pisau—pedang cahaya biru pucat bertabrakan dengan pisau melengkung hitam kehijauan, mengeluarkan suara gesekan logam yang menusuk. Percikan api beterbangan. Kilatan energi terpencar sejenak, Yue Tingzhou mundur dua langkah, punggungnya membentur bingkai pintu balairung. Pemandu bertopeng besi itu mengejar dengan momentum, mengubah tebasan menjadi tusukan, langsung menuju jantungnya. *Shu biao* Zhu Hanli tiba. Badan *biao* melesat melewati telinga pemandu bertopeng besi, menancap di dinding batu di belakangnya. Gerakan pemandu bertopeng besi itu terhenti sejenak, Yue Tingzhou memanfaatkan celah sekejap ini, tangan kiri mencengkeram pergelangan tangan pemandu yang memegang pisau, tangan kanan merapatkan jari seperti pedang, menuju titik "Qihu" tiga *cun* di bawah jakunnya. Angin jari belum sampai, pemandu bertopeng besi itu sudah melepaskan pegangan, membuang pisaunya. Ia menghindar licin seperti belut, berbalik dan langsung berlari menuruni gunung. Pemandu-pemandu yang tersisa melihat kejadian ini, juga bergegas mundur—belasan orang menyeret rekan mereka yang terluka, dalam sekejap menghilang di jalan gunung yang gelap gulita. Yue Tingzhou bersandar pada bingkai pintu, batuk mengeluarkan darah hitam. Zhu Hanli bergegas mendekat, menyangganya, ujung jari menempel di nadi pergelangan tangannya. Denyut nadinya kacau seperti perahu di tengah badai, tenaga sejati mengamuk tak terkendali di meridian, hampir merobek-robek. "Kamu tidak boleh lagi menggerakkan tenaga sejati," suaranya terdengar tegang, "sekali lagi, meridianmu akan benar-benar putus." "Tidak bergerak... bagaimana bisa menerobos keluar?" Yue Tingzhou menghapus darah di sudut mulutnya, menatap Su Xuanqing. Su Xuanqing berjalan keluar dari balairung, di tangannya memegang gulungan giok itu. "Di gunung belakang ada jalan berbahaya," katanya, "hanya para sesepuh dari generasi ke generasi yang mengetahuinya. Jalannya sangat sempit, nyaris hanya cukup untuk satu orang lewat, keluarannya berada di Hutan Pinus Hitam tiga puluh *li* dari sini. Orang-orang Huo Qingya tidak tahu jalan itu, tapi—" ia berhenti sejenak, "jalannya dipahat di tebing curam, satu sisi adalah tebing terjal, sisi lainnya adalah jurang dalam. Tubuh kalian lemah setelah persembahan, melewati jalan itu... risikonya sangat besar." "Masih lebih baik daripada menerobos jebakan." Yue Tingzhou menerima gulungan giok itu. Badan gulungan berwarna susu itu memancarkan cahaya lembut di bawah sinar bulan. Ia menggenggamnya erat, seperti menggenggam token menuju jalan hidup. Zhu Hanli juga mengulurkan tangan, ujung jarinya menyentuh lekukan di ujung gulungan giok itu—bagian itu halus dan dingin, menunggu untuk diisi darah. "Kapan persembahannya?" tanyanya. "Sekarang." Su Xuanqing berbalik memimpin jalan, "Ikut aku." Ketiganya melewati balairung belakang Dewan Sesepuh