The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the intricate patterns carved into the wooden floor. Yue Tingzhou (字 Zhi Ge), his face etched with concern, carefully examined the ancient scroll. He had been poring over it for hours, trying to decipher its cryptic message. Zhu Hanli (江湖号 "Pear Maiden"), her eyes sharp and intelligent, leaned closer, her fingers tracing the faded ink. "The symbols are unlike anything I've ever seen," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "They seem to be a combination of spiritual inscriptions and… something else. Something I can't quite place." Xie Wuchen (字 Zhi Xuan), his expression grave, nodded in agreement. "The energy emanating from this scroll is… unsettling," he said, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "It feels as if it's calling to something, something ancient and powerful." Shen Litchuan (外号 "Iron Rule"), his gaze unwavering, remained silent, his senses alert for any sign of danger. He had a feeling that they were walking into something far more complex than they could possibly imagine. Suddenly, a low hum filled the air, growing louder and more intense with each passing moment. The candlelight flickered wildly, casting grotesque shapes on the walls. The scroll began to glow with an eerie, otherworldly light. "What's happening?" Zhu Hanli exclaimed, her voice filled with alarm. Before anyone could answer, a small, iron talisman, hidden within the scroll, burst into flames. The intense heat forced them to recoil, their faces contorted in pain. The talisman burned for a few agonizing seconds before turning to ash. As the ashes settled, a single word appeared, etched into the air: "问心对". Yue Tingzhou recognized the phrase. "Ask Your Heart," he translated, his voice trembling slightly. "It's an ancient summoning ritual." "Summoning what?" Xie Wuchen demanded, his hand tightening on his sword. "I don't know," Yue Tingzhou replied, his eyes wide with apprehension. "But I have a feeling we're about to find out." The air grew heavy, charged with an unseen energy. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, swirling and coalescing into vaguely humanoid shapes. A cold wind swept through the room, extinguishing the candles and plunging them into darkness. "Be ready," Shen Litchuan warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Something is coming." In the darkness, a single voice echoed, soft and ethereal, yet filled with an undeniable power. "I have been waiting for you." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, filling their minds with a sense of both awe and dread. They knew, instinctively, that their lives were about to change forever. "Who are you?" Zhu Hanli called out, her voice trembling slightly. "I am the one who called you," the voice replied. "And I have a task for you." "What task?" Yue Tingzhou asked, his heart pounding in his chest. "A task that will determine the fate of the world," the voice said. "Are you willing to accept it?" The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of their own breathing. They knew that whatever this task was, it would be dangerous, demanding, and possibly even deadly. But they also knew that they couldn't refuse. "We accept," Yue Tingzhou said, his voice firm and resolute. "Very well," the voice replied. "Then come. I will show you the way." And with that, the darkness began to swirl again, drawing them towards an unknown destination. They had no idea what awaited them, but they knew that they had to follow. Their journey had just begun. In the late spring night, the cool air carried the scent of fading flowers. The red-lacquered gate of the Henglu Division's western city outpost clicked shut with the sound of two copper locks falling into place. The smell of copper rust mingled with the bitter fragrance of mugwort growing on the lintel, drifting halfway down the alley. 岳停舟 removed the moon-white silk robes he had been wearing at the Mirror Reflection banquet. His fingertips were still tinged with the cool, white aura of the heirloom silver mirror belonging to 祝寒梨, a coolness that felt like jade immersed in a deep pool. As soon as he entered the inner room, he silently performed the Still Pool technique. His true energy flowed like an ice shuttle sinking to the bottom of the pool, sweeping a three-meter radius. His ears twitched almost imperceptibly – someone was hidden beneath the wisteria vines outside the wall. Their breathing was as faint as the pollen drifting in the late spring breeze, and their cultivation was at least in the mid-Ripple Pattern realm, with not a trace of instability. The wind carried the muddy scent of the rain, mixed with a faint trace of copper rust – the unique aura marking of the Tianming Mirror's external patrol, burned onto the bone, impossible to erase. A half-finished cup of jasmine tea sat on the desk, its delicate fragrance slightly masking the metallic tang. He touched the rim of the white porcelain cup with his fingertips, his fingers brushing against the cool, delicate crackle, and slowly rotated it three times before lifting the hem of his robe and taking his seat. His fingertips delved into his sleeve, retrieving two thin, cloud-patterned spiritual fragments: one was the trace of the Tianming Mirror's fluctuation secretly collected at the Mirror Reflection banquet, and the other was the energy residue mapped from the scene of the Wanming镖局镖 incident three years ago. He had carried these two fragments with him for three years, comparing them seventeen times, but the differences in the spiritual patterns were always beyond a thousandth of a degree, and he couldn't find any connection. Today, with the aura of 祝寒梨's heirloom silver mirror, he finally felt like he was on the verge of a breakthrough. A strand of true energy flowed from his fingertips into the two fragments, which simultaneously floated in the air. The faint golden spiritual patterns seemed to be pulled by an invisible hand, aligning segment by segment. Outside the window, the wisteria leaves were swirled by the wind, the raindrops trickled down the wooden window frame, and splashed onto the stone slabs in front of the steps, making a crisp ticking sound like tapping on the tip of one's heart. He brought the Still Pool technique to its twelfth level, his hearing so acute that he could hear the faint vibrations of the spiritual patterns. His fingertips pressed against the surface of the sandalwood desk, and a tingling sensation flowed up his bones, the resonance of the spiritual fragments. When he reached the seventh segment of the pattern, two patterns that were originally off by ten thousand and eight thousand suddenly clicked together perfectly. A flash of golden light erupted, so bright that it stung his eyes. His pupils constricted sharply, and the corners of his eyes involuntarily twitched, almost bringing tears to his eyes. The knuckles holding the Xuan Iron spiritual pen turned white, his jaw clenched as tightly as quenched Xuan Iron, and even the muscles in the back of his neck twitched. The frequency of this fluctuation was not off by a single decimal place – the energy residue from the scene of the Wanming镖局 incident three years ago was not the lingering energy of any thieves, but the unique mark left by the Tianming Mirror. The catastrophic disaster that befell the entire Wanming镖局, seventeen families, was inextricably linked to the marriage screening conducted by the Tianming Book. He had been walking on a knife's edge for three years, investigating this old case, and today he had finally found the most crucial clue, six months ahead of his estimated progress. Just as he was about to record the conclusion in the secret scroll, the iron law transmission rune attached to his abdomen suddenly started to burn without warning. The searing pain was like a red-hot iron nail piercing directly into his flesh, and the crimson light leaked out along the seams of the silk robe, the buzzing sound was so faint that it resembled the buzzing of insects, but it pressed down on his chest, making him feel suffocated – it was a level one secret summons that only 沈砺川 could trigger. If he didn't reply within three breaths, the transmission rune would explode, not only destroying the entire western city outpost, but also shattering the innocent civilians in the surrounding three households into meat paste. In the first breath, he pressed his fingertips on the transmission rune, wrapping it with the Henglu Division's unique encrypted message, consisting of only four words: "Stop, and answer the summons." There were no unnecessary words, When the spiritual energy dissipated, the chill from the stone floor seeped up through the soles of his boots, causing岳停舟 to pause momentarily before regaining his balance. He immediately smelled a familiar scent—a mixture of cold metal and aged lamp oil—the distinctive odor of沈砺川. The man always carried a pair of half-broken iron restraints, said to have been broken by a notorious criminal during an arrest, leaving a lingering metallic scent that permeated his very being. The orange glow of the long-burning lamp cast dancing shadows, making it difficult to see clearly. 沈砺川 stood with his back to him, facing the desk, his right hand holding an old wolf-hair brush, which he was using to write on a dark-colored scroll. The vermilion ink on the brush resembled dried blood, stinging his eyes. This was his long-standing ritual; he always wrote the secret scrolls himself, using an old wolf-hair brush soaked in pine smoke for three years, no matter how smooth a new brush might be, he wouldn't touch it. "Sit," 沈砺川 said without turning around. His northern dialect was as harsh as frozen stone, each word hitting the stone floor like shards of ice. A blue porcelain teacup sat on the desk, holding a half-cup of pine needle tea, its warmth releasing a fragrant aroma.岳停舟 walked over and traced the rim of the cup with his fingertips, his skin brushing against the cracks in the porcelain, before lifting the hem of his robe and sitting down. This was a habit he couldn't break; whenever he received orders or negotiated, he always turned the teacup three times, as if to encompass all the unforeseen variables in his grasp. 沈砺川 turned around, holding a scroll with a gilded leather cover. He snapped his fingers, sending the scroll flying to the space in front of岳停舟. The force of the scroll hitting the polished acid wood desk created a gust of wind that made the tea in the cup slosh, splashing two drops onto the stone floor, where they quickly disappeared. "Seven days. Provide concrete evidence for the marriage contract screening process." 岳停舟 reached out to catch the scroll, the gilded letters on the "生死令" (Life and Death Order) were raised and uneven, scratching against the calluses on his fingertips. The scroll bore the crimson seal of the Henglu Division, still carrying the faint scent of vermilion ink, and felt heavy in his hand, as if it weighed half a mountain. He traced the cloud patterns on the scroll and, in his usual official tone, asked, "According to regulations, the personal accountability for a failed solo mission falls only on the individual. Why does this involve related parties?" 沈砺川's brow furrowed, and the iron rings on his belt clinked, the sound sending a chill through the room. "If you fail, your identity as an undercover agent will be exposed. The岳 and 祝 families will be listed as rebellious factions, and all members of both clans will have their spiritual roots severed, effectively ending their cultivation paths." 岳停舟's jaw tightened, and his neck muscles twitched. He hadn't expected the punishment to be so severe, nor had he anticipated 沈砺川 directly involving the 祝 family in the accountability chain. It was as if he already knew about his impending alliance with 祝寒梨. He suppressed his surprise and replied in a calm, emotionless voice, "I understand. May I inquire whether the concrete evidence needs to be linked to the core data of the '天命书' (Mandate of Heaven Book)? I confirmed today that the energy residue from the three-year-old 万镜镖局 (Wàn Jìng鏢局 - Ten Mirrors鏢局)镖失案 perfectly matches the fluctuations of the '天命镜' (Mandate of Heaven Mirror) –" Before he could finish, 沈砺川 slammed his hand on the desk, sending the wolf-hair brush flying three feet into the air. Vermilion ink splattered everywhere, resembling splashes of blood. "Don't ask questions you shouldn't! You just need to provide the evidence for the screening process. The data in the master copy is not to be tampered with!" He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, and hastily added, "The secret data of the Henglu Division is not something you can mess with." 岳停舟's heart skipped a beat. He clenched the "生死令" in his hand, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm, causing a slight bleeding, which he didn't notice. The "master copy." 沈砺川 had let something slip. The Henglu Division was indeed hiding the master data of the "天命书." For three years, he had been searching for any trace of it, but he hadn't found a single clue, only to discover that the answer was with his superior. He lowered his eyes, the surging turmoil in his eyes hidden behind his long eyelashes, and bowed respectfully, "I understand. For this mission, what level of confidential files can I access?" "All files of grade C and below are open. You can mobilize the assistance of the three undercover teams in the capital with this order," 沈砺川's tone softened slightly, and his fingertips repeatedly stroked the splattered vermilion ink on the desk, as if trying to erase the slip of the tongue. His fingertips were stained red, like he had been handling blood. "Remember, this matter must not be disclosed to anyone, especially not to anyone associated with the 万镜镖局. The '天命书' is closely monitoring the marriage contract screening process. If