As twilight descended, carrying the scent of osmanthus on the gentle breeze that brushed against the windowpanes, all the translucent white jade lanterns on the third floor of the Lanyue Building had already been lit. The warm light, mingled with the aroma of tung oil from the vermilion pillars, illuminated the golden thread patterns woven into the guests' garments, making them shimmer like scattered stars. The coolness of the breeze against the ears and the warmth of the lamplight on the cheeks created a conflicting sensation, causing an involuntary tension in the nape of the neck. Yue Tingzhou, dressed in a pale blue robe that had been washed to a soft texture, stood in the shadows near the window, his fingertips pinching a smooth jade cup. A single drop of osmanthus wine clung to the rim, cool against his skin. The aroma of aged rice wine mingled with the scent of rouge from the ladies' hair, filling his nostrils. The melancholic melody of the pipa's "West River Moon" echoed through the hall, its fading notes causing a slight tingling in his ears. He silently performed the "Quiet Pool" technique, his senses expanding like ripples on a tranquil pond, silently spreading outwards—this was a secret technique passed down within the Heng Law Enforcement Agency, capable of discerning the strength of vital energy and detecting subtle emotional shifts. He was currently posing as Yue Zige, a renowned scholar from the countryside, ostensibly seeking a government position, but his true purpose was to gauge the extent to which various factions relied on the "Tianming List." Within thirty-five days, if he could not obtain evidence of the "Tianming Book" master copy's "life-saving algorithm," the Heng Law Enforcement Agency and the Wanjing鏢局 would be accused of defying the list, leading to the revocation of cultivation qualifications for all members, leaving no room for negotiation. His senses swept over the dozens of people in the hall. He unconsciously rubbed his fingertips against the fine patterns etched on the rim of the cup, a faint bitterness lingering on his tongue from the strain of maintaining his focus. He quickly made mental notes. Seven or eight out of ten guests wore mirror ornaments issued by the Tianming List, attached to their waists, wrists, or hair. These mirrors, made of copper, jade, or glass, varied in design, but all emitted a faint golden aura, like fireflies floating in the grass on a summer night, shimmering subtly and causing a slight tingling sensation when they brushed against his senses. A young man in a sapphire silk robe, seated near the main position, wore a white jade mirror on his wrist, which cast a faint light, revealing the floating purple patterns of his innate energy. A circle of people surrounded him, murmuring with envy. The servants accompanying him wore robes embroidered with the cloud-shaped emblem of the Gongyi Workshop, indicating their strong connection to the Tianming List and their deep reliance on it, a dependence that was deeply ingrained in their cultivation. In the southeast corner, an elderly man in a grey linen robe wore nothing on his waist. When others mentioned the Tianming List and its ability to predict fortune and misfortune, he stroked his silver beard and steered the conversation towards the "Three Purity Scriptures," his vital energy emitting a faint aura of rejection. He was likely Yuanqing Daozhang of the Qing Song Temple. The remaining disciples from smaller sects mostly wore mirrors, the resonance between their vital energy and the mirrors fluctuating, indicating that they were merely following the trend, not truly believing in the power of the list. After nearly half an hour of continuous "Quiet Pool" technique, a faint throbbing sensation began to develop in his temples, as if tiny needles were being inserted, and the consumption of his mental energy was three times greater than anticipated. He suppressed the rising tension, adopting a reserved demeanor befitting a newcomer to the capital. Taking advantage of the lively atmosphere of the free-form singing, he slowly moved towards the center of the hall—the soft texture of the woven rugs beneath his feet enveloped his ankles. There, hanging on the wall, was a large calligraphy scroll inscribed with the words "Mirror and Water, Illusion and Reality." Near the main position, three ancient bronze mirrors from the Shang and Zhou dynasties were suspended on the side, their metallic scent mingling with the aroma of old ink from the calligraphy, providing the best vantage point to observe the core group of individuals. As he stood and glanced at the calligraphy, a sudden surge of energy erupted from the depths of his dantian, as if something had forcefully pulled it towards the surface. The sound of the pipa, which had been playing steadily, momentarily distorted at an incredible speed, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced sideways and saw a bronze mirror near him. The surface of the mirror, which had been covered in a thin layer of dust, was now rippling with a circle of water-like patterns at an incredible speed, so fast that it seemed like an illusion. He even felt a chilling coolness emanating from the mirror, a sensation that didn't belong to the night breeze, and a faint buzzing sound brushed against his fingertips. "Young Master Yue, would you care for some桂花酿 (guihua niang, osmanthus wine)? It's freshly steamed today and goes perfectly with the crab powder pastries from the kitchen," a waiter in a blue tunic said, appearing beside him without a sound. He bent down and smiled as he offered the wine jug. The sweet fragrance of the freshly steamed桂花酿, mixed with the scent of soapnuts from the waiter's clothes, momentarily masked the fleeting sound of the mirror. Yue Tingzhou immediately suppressed his true qi circulation, pushing all the fluctuations back into his dantian. He pinched his fingers, causing the jade cup to become slightly cool, and a few tiny droplets condensed on the rim. He put on a perfectly appropriate shy smile, shook his head, and vaguely pointed at the calligraphy and paintings beside him. His tone was that of a talented young man from the countryside encountering something precious: "Thank you, I don't need any more wine. May I ask if this calligraphy is a work by Mr. Chen Rong of the previous dynasty? The brushwork is vigorous and rare to see." The waiter followed his gaze, just about to answer, when Yue Tingzhou's peripheral vision caught sight of the young man in a brocade robe in the main seat. He had already turned his head, his inquisitive gaze fixed directly on Yue Tingzhou. At the same time, a cool, almost invisible sensation, like a strand of silk, was still lingering on the back of his neck, clearly another person's scrutiny. The scent carried a hint of pear blossom, a fragrance unique to the southern lands. He instantly recognized it as祝寒梨 (Zhu Hanli), his ally from the Wan Jing鏢局 (Wan Jing鏢局, Wan Jing鏢局, Wan Jing鏢局), who was supposed to meet him in three days. He subtly withdrew his gaze and listened as the waiter chattered on about the calligraphy being a genuine piece from the previous dynasty, treasured by the owner of the establishment. In his mind, he had already turned the situation over several times: The resonance he had felt earlier was too peculiar, clearly a reaction between the 静潭诀 (Jingtan Jue, Jingtan Jue) and the mirror-like artifact, and it had already attracted the attention of the Xie family. He needed to find an opportunity to talk to him, to both downplay the anomaly and subtly investigate the Xie family. With 祝寒梨 (Zhu Hanli) present, it would be more reliable to gather information with her cooperation than to do it alone. The young man in the brocade robe had already walked over, his boots treading on the inlaid wooden floor, the sound so soft it was like stepping on cotton. The faint coolness seeping from the seams of the floor was felt through his boots. The jade mirror hanging from his waist swayed, causing the shadows of the glass lamps on the wall to flicker. The scent of dragon's gall mixed with the faint, bitter aroma of polishing stones filled the air, along with a warm fragrance. This mingled with the musty smell of aged桑皮纸 (sangpi paper) soaked in pine smoke from Mr. Chen Rong's calligraphy that lingered in his nostrils, causing a slight throbbing in his temples: "You have a discerning eye. This is indeed a genuine work by Chen Rong, and the owner of this establishment spent three cartloads of red copper to acquire it." Yue Tingzhou turned slightly, bowed, and his fingertips were still touching the tiny droplets condensed on the rim of the jade cup. His smile was warm and gentle, perfectly embodying the shyness appropriate for a young talent from a humble background: "My name is Yue Zige. I was drawn to this precious piece and feel honored." A few people gathered around, and one of them, an elderly man in a gray robe, twirled his silver beard. The robe was tinged with a faint, bitter scent of mugwort, and he was the 青松观 (Qingsong Guan, Qingsong Guan) senior martial artist from the Qing松观 (Qingsong Guan) who Yue Tingzhou had sensed earlier, but who was not wearing any mirror-related artifacts. Someone chuckled and tapped the rim of their wine cup, making a light "ding" sound: "Since Young Master Yue recognizes Chen Rong's calligraphy, perhaps you could compose a couplet to complement the 'Mirror and Water' inscription?" The young man surnamed Xie clapped his hands in agreement, and the jade mirror on his wrist "Excellent 'Still water breeds its own waves'!" the young man surnamed Xie clapped his hands in agreement, the sound of his knuckles striking the jade mirror on his wrist creating a delicate, crisp hum. "Young Master Yue's character is clear, and his breathing is as stable as a deep pool. It seems he cultivates a superior method of internal energy cultivation?" He then subtly glanced at the black ebony sword at Yue Tingzhou's waist, his eyes filled with a hint of inquiry. Just then, Yue Tingzhou's fingertips brushed against the edge of the ancient mirror on his side. The icy, rough patina of the copper grazed his fingertips, and the stagnant energy from the "Stillness Pool" technique he had just suppressed within his meridians surged again, receding like a tide, causing a slight tingling sensation in his meridians. He quickly stabilized his breath, instinctively wiping the copper residue from his fingertips onto his sleeve, and smiled, "It's just a simple, family-passed method for health and meditation. It's nothing compared to a true superior technique. Speaking of which, the mirrors from Tian Gong Workshop are renowned throughout the land. This ancient mirror hanging in the hall, with its fine texture and pure copper quality, must be a treasured piece from your workshop?" The young man named Xie's smile widened, his tone revealing an unhidden sense of pride, as he tapped the frame of a mirror beside him, "Young Master Yue has an eye for quality! These ancient mirrors are reproductions of Han Dynasty designs from our Tian Gong Workshop. Now, they are equipped with the algorithms of the 'Tianming List,' which can reveal the merits and demerits of a person's past three lifetimes, determining compatibility and ranking. It's much more reliable than the sectarian lists of the previous dynasty, which were based on personal connections and social standing." As he finished speaking, the Taoist priest with the surname Xuanwei coughed lightly, his fingers, which were stroking his beard, tightened slightly, turning his knuckles white, and the aroma of mugwort grew stronger. "A mirror can only reflect the form, not the heart. If we rely on the results reflected by the mirror in everything, people will become slaves to objects, losing their true selves." The young man named Xie's smile faded slightly, and he was about to object when a middle-aged man in a dark-colored housekeeper's uniform quickly walked over, his shoes making a light sound on the floor, and he held a gilded invitation in his hands. The envelope was cool to the touch from the night dew, and he bowed to Yue Tingzhou, saying, "Young Master Yue, I am Xie Fu, the steward of the Xie family. Our master has heard of your esteemed reputation and has instructed me to invite you to the Xie family in three days to appreciate newly unearthed mirrors from the pre-Qin era." Yue Tingzhou reached out and took the invitation, the embossed "Xie" character feeling slightly numb against his fingertips. Almost simultaneously, a faint, almost imperceptible tingling sensation arose in his dantian, like being lightly brushed by fine fluff, causing the energy of the "Stillness Pool" technique to tremble uncontrollably. He glanced to the side, and in the gaps between the people, a woman in a yellow dress was turning a palm-sized bronze mirror, its surface briefly flashing a faint glimmer of water, so fleeting it seemed like an illusion. At that moment, a faint scent of pear blossoms, unique to the southern lands, drifted in the air, and he was instantly certain that it was the woman he was supposed to meet in three days - Zhu Hanli. Xie Gongzi stood to the side, watching him put the invitation into his sleeve, and smiled casually, his gaze falling on the copper residue on his fingertips, "Young Master Yue's poem, with its 'still water' imagery, seems to resonate with the effects of our new 'Still Reflection Mirror' from Tian Gong Workshop. I wonder, where did you learn such a technique? Perhaps you have some connection to the mirror-making techniques of our Tian Gong Workshop." The sound of the musical instruments paused momentarily, and the movements of several people who were holding wine cups stopped. The aroma of incense in the air felt heavy, pressing down on their shoulders. Yue Tingzhou pinched the edges of the invitation in his sleeve, his smile unchanged, but his heart beat rapidly, and his ears even flushed slightly - if he answered this question carelessly, his disguise might be exposed. And the unusual movement of the woman's mirror in the yellow dress was certainly not a coincidence. He had to figure out her identity before leaving. He smiled and glossed over the question of his teacher, simply stating that he was a wandering cultivator who had learned a passed-down technique, something unworthy of the Fang family's attention. He swirled the remaining wine in his cup, the sweet, sticky apricot wine mingling with the pervasive fragrance of the room, creating a cloying sensation. As the attention of those around him was drawn to the newly started pipa music of "Jade Tower Spring," the crisp sound of the clinking cups momentarily drowned out the probing glances. He excused himself, claiming to be too intoxicated, and, clutching the half-full cup, he navigated through the crowd, heading towards the back courtyard via the smooth, pear-wood staircase. The cool, hard edges of the wooden planks pressed against the soles of his leather boots, causing a slight numbness in his feet, which helped to ease the unease he had felt earlier when probed by Young Master Xie. The remaining apricot wine in the cup still held the warmth of his palm, the sweet fragrance mingling with the clear aroma of alcohol, and the night breeze, carrying the scent of dew, brushed against his cheek, causing a shiver. The wind also carried a hint of a very clear, cool fragrance, unlike the cloying scent of the perfume in the front hall; it was the fresh scent of snow on winter branches. He dabbed the wine from his fingertip and looked up to see the woman in the yellow dress standing in the pavilion. It was the same woman who had been holding the bronze mirror in the crowd. She was facing away from him, leaning against a vermilion pavilion pillar, her fingertips turning a palm-sized bronze mirror. The mirror reflected the snow-white winter pear blossoms, the shimmering water creating a blurring effect at the corner of his eye. As the mirror turned, it emitted a very faint metallic hum, a sound that only those with a cultivation level below the Foundation Establishment stage would be unable to detect. Hearing his footsteps, she did not turn around, but softly said, "These winter pear blossoms are more pristine than those that bloom during the day." Her voice had a hint of the soft accent of the southern lands, her tone steady, a characteristic of those who had walked the鏢路 (mercantile road) and seen many deaths. As her words fell, a faint metallic sharpness, mixed with the scent of sandalwood, drifted towards him, causing the hairs on the back of Yue Tingzhou's neck to prickle almost imperceptibly. Yue Tingzhou paused, not approaching her, but standing under the pear tree next to the pavilion, unconsciously rubbing his fingertips against the icy cracks on the rim of the cup. The moonlight bathed the petals, making them appear as if covered in a layer of silver, and as the wind blew, they fluttered down, one of which landed on his sleeve, cool and with a hint of faint honey fragrance. "Yes, it's as if the moonlight has been condensed into the petals," he said, his tone relaxed, without the usual polite formalities of a social gathering. He spoke as if he had simply stumbled upon a fellow admirer of the scenery, even slowing down the deliberate calming of his True Qi with the Silent Pool Technique, which was usually held taut like a drawn bow. "Last year, when I was transporting goods through the southwestern Miao region, I saw two such trees in a mountain hollow," she said, her movements slowing slightly as she turned the mirror. The moonlight reflected off the edges of the bronze mirror, dimming the faint metallic hum. Her voice carried a hint of softness. "They bloomed even more beautifully than this one, only opening for six hours on the night of the full moon, and then withered, disappearing completely before dawn." He could faintly detect the scent of dust and travel on her, mingled with the sandalwood and metallic sharpness, a unique aroma that came from years of handling鏢器 (mercantile weapons) and refining bronze mirrors. Yue Tingzhou said "Oh" and dabbed a pear blossom petal that had fallen on the rim of the cup. The soft petal brushed against his fingertip, causing a tickling sensation that spread up his arm. "Are you a鏢客 (mercantile agent)?" she finally turned around, revealing half of her face. Her features were cold and her jawline was tense, just like when she had been surrounded by people earlier, but only her eyes, which rested on the pear blossoms, softened slightly, her lower eyelids curving a fraction. She didn't ask his name, nor did she mention the poetry gathering in the front hall, as if she hadn't recognized him as the very young master Yue who had been invited by the Fang family's steward. Neither of them spoke again, only the sound of the wind blowing through the pear leaves and the faint sound of silk and bamboo instruments from the front hall filled the air, which was much more pleasant than the cloying fragrance and flattery of the front hall. Yue Tingzhou stood Just then, the fleeting glance from Zhu Hanli, and the reflected light from the bronze mirror in her hand, suddenly connected with the red annotation on the confidential order that Shen Lichen had given him before leaving: "Pay attention to the movements of the Wan Jing鏢局." He had originally thought that this trip to the capital was only to assess the extent to which each faction relied on the Tianming List, but now he realized that from the moment he stepped into the Lan Yue Lou, he had already stumbled into a carefully woven net. And that woman from the鏢局, with the surname Zhu, was the first thread in the net that he had not accounted for, a thread that, if pulled, would set the whole thing in motion.