Ominous clouds hung low, pressing down on the tower built of沉铁石 on the western slopes of the Henglu Division's mountain. 岳停舟 pressed himself against the shadow of the rock face, his fingertips resting on his wrist, silently counting his breaths. —Seven breaths per team. Three times denser than the intelligence suggested. The black uniforms of the Frost Falcon Guards blended with the night, only the spirit mirrors hanging from their waists occasionally flashing a cold light. Their footsteps were incredibly light, yet the sound of their shoes grinding against the gravel was so precise it was unsettling. This wasn't a routine patrol; it was a net being cast. He released his wrist, sweat beading on his palm. The aura of the沉铁石 seeped from the ground, like invisible ice water washing over his ankles, wrapping around his meridians. His spiritual energy flow became sluggish, by fifty percent. Each inhalation felt like pulling a knife through mud. 岳停舟 closed his eyes, his ears twitching. In the distance, oil lamps flared and burst. *Crack! Crack!* That was the moment—two teams of Frost Falcon Guards crossed paths at the entrance to the tunnel, creating a three-finger-wide blind spot. 岳停舟 moved. Using the "尺水丈波" footwork to its extreme, his body transformed into a fleeting shadow, sliding into the darkness. His toes barely touched the ground, relying solely on the fine tremors in his ankles to dissipate the force. The floor of the underground passage was covered with "listening bells," thin bronze plates buried beneath the stone bricks, designed to capture even the slightest vibrations, like the fluttering of a moth's wings. His heart pounded in his chest. He gritted his teeth, and suddenly constricted the swirling energy in his dantian—using the "Turtle Breathing" technique. His heartbeat slowed from a frantic drum to a gradual, then almost still pulse. His blood flow plummeted, and his fingertips went numb. A black haze appeared at the edges of his vision, and a suffocating sensation crept up from his throat. He couldn't stop. He slid along the wall into the inner corridor. The rough, icy surface of the沉铁石 wall felt like frozen animal hide. Ten paces ahead, the iron gate of the underground vault was half-open, a faint yellow light seeping through the crack. The seal was in the third row, seventh slot, according to the intelligence. 岳停舟 stopped at the corner, tilting his head to listen. A faint metallic scraping sound came from inside the room. It wasn't the sound of a mechanism turning, but the sound of a blade scraping against the sheath—someone was on guard inside, and had just adjusted their position. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, calculating the distance. Seven steps to break the door, three steps to retrieve the object, and then an escape route… his escape route was blocked by the cross-patrolling of the two teams. The intelligence was wrong. The density of the guards, the deployment pattern, even the concentration of沉铁石 in the vault, were all wildly inaccurate. This wasn't negligence; it was bait. He remembered the deep, still eyes of his mentor, 沈砺川, from the night before he left. The old man had pressed an old copper key into his palm, the ridges of his knuckles digging into his skin: "停舟, this key is related to the century-long reputation of the Henglu Division. Retrieve it, and do not ask why." 岳停舟 had agreed then. He always agreed quickly. But now, the copper key was burning in his pocket, burning so hot that it felt like it would melt through the fabric. 岳停舟 slowly exhaled, and a cloud of white mist formed in the cold air. He had to go inside. Not for the sect, not for the reputation. For the figure currently traveling on the mountain road a hundred miles away—祝寒梨, who held a matching spirit mirror in her embrace. If she couldn't obtain the seal before dawn, she wouldn't be able to exchange it for 谢无尘's evidence, and she wouldn't be able to protect the group of witnesses in 陆见微's care. The engagement was a lie. The mutual protection was real. 岳停舟 opened his eyes, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints in the darkness. He shed his outer robe, revealing the dark night clothes underneath, the hem of which was soaked in a potion that could briefly block spirit mirror scans. Then he drew a three-inch long thin blade from his waist, the blade dull, reflecting no light. The metallic scraping sound came again. This time, it was closer. 岳停 A blinding light flooded the area. There were no guards in the vault. Only a corpse sitting cross-legged on a tatami mat. No, not a corpse. The person was wearing the uniform of the Frost Falcon Guard, but a palm-sized spirit mirror was embedded in their chest, the mirror's surface facing the entrance. Instead of a human figure, it reflected a dense network of flowing golden runes—a trigger-activated tracking restriction, and it was already 90% activated! 不是攻击，而是共鸣。 He almost wanted to retreat, but his feet were rooted to the spot. His gaze passed over the bizarre "mirror corpse" and turned towards the stone shelves behind it. In the third row, seventh compartment, a dark red wooden box was half-open, and inside lay a bronze seal, the knob carved in the shape of a獬豸, emitting a faint green glow in the dim light. 双线共鸣，暴露了。 Yue Tingzhou's breathing stopped. 镜尸炸裂了。 Why? The spirit mirror on the mirror corpse's chest suddenly hummed. The flow of golden runes surged violently, about to break through the mirror surface! Yue Tingzhou's pupils constricted, and without thinking further, his body moved like lightning towards the stone shelves—the moment his fingertips touched the edge of the wooden box, the golden runes on the seal suddenly exploded! It wasn't an attack, it was resonance. 绝路。 The double resonance revealed everything. 岳停舟突然明白了。 The mirror corpse exploded. Instead of blood splattering, countless mirror shards shattered into a silvery rain, each reflecting Yue Tingzhou's retreating figure. The fragments tore through his night clothes, leaving thin lines of blood on his cheeks and neck. He rolled on the ground and slammed heavily against the stone wall of the corridor, a wave of sweetness rising in his throat. The suppression of the Iron Law Stone was even stronger. The flow of spiritual energy almost stagnated. Yue Tingzhou gritted his teeth and stood up, shoving the seal into his inner pocket. He held a dagger horizontally in front of him. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed from both ends of the passage—the Frost Falcon Guard's encirclement was tightening. He glanced around, the stone walls were smooth and offered no handholds, and the ventilation openings above were narrow, barely the size of a fist. A dead end. 现在是机会！ Yue Tingzhou suddenly understood. He crouched down, dipped his fingertip in the blood on his cheek, and quickly traced a symbol on the mirror surface—not runes, but an inverted "赦" character. The old scrolls of the Heng Law Department mentioned that if a mirror corpse's restriction was triggered by blood relatives or the same source of true energy, it could temporarily seize control for three breaths. He didn't know who this person was in life. But being turned into a mirror corpse means they were someone from the Frost Falcon Guard. And the same source of true energy— 江风裹着泥腥气卷过老君渡。 The shards trembled. Then, they slowly floated into the air, turning towards the eastern side of the passage. A blinding flash of silver light erupted, accompanied by a piercing shriek! It was the mournful cry of the deceased's lingering spirit, forcibly stimulated. The sound waves slammed against the stone walls, causing dust to rain down throughout the entire passage. The Frost Falcon guards, who had been charging forward, faltered in their steps. Some gasped and covered their ears. 茶棚里坐着三个船夫打扮的汉子。 “各位客人要过江？”最靠外的汉子抬起 The third table over, the "guest" who had been quietly drinking tea set down his bowl. The sound of the porcelain hitting the wooden table was faint, and the oily surface of the table sent out barely visible ripples. His posture hadn't changed, but his aura had locked onto Lu Jianwei. The teahouse was silent, save for the whistling of the wind. A few crows cawed in the distance. "Alright, fifteen coins it is," the man said, standing up and making a move to untie the mooring rope. "Please wait a moment, I'll go get the boat—" Before he could finish. Shama Aishi's blade had already drawn a crescent arc, not aimed at the man, but at the bamboo curtain on the side of the teahouse. The curtain tore with a ripping sound, revealing a short crossbow that had been drawn. The crossbow bolt flew through the air. Lu Jianwei sidestepped, the arrow grazing her temple and embedding itself in the dirt wall behind her. The arrow shaft vibrated. Almost simultaneously, a blinding beam of light reflected from the mirror in Zhu Hanli's hand, shooting straight into the forest on the opposite bank. A muffled groan echoed from the forest. The three "ferrymen" in the teahouse simultaneously attacked. The man on the outside drew two water daggers from his sleeves, aiming for Zhu Hanli's throat. Zhu Hanli didn't retreat; instead, she advanced, her left hand deflecting the blades with a series of clicks as the beads of her abacus struck the metal. Her right hand had already drawn a short pistol from her waist. There was no flash of flame from the barrel. It was a three-inch-long cone of cold iron, the surface covered in intricate runes. She twisted her wrist, the tip of the cone pressing into the man's inner elbow—not piercing, but precisely interrupting the flow of energy. The man's entire right arm instantly went numb. The daggers fell to the ground. The other two had already lunged at Lu Jianwei. Shama Aishi crossed a step, her short sword clashing with the iron ruler held by one of the men, sparks flying. The blade pressed down on the ruler, sliding and scraping towards the man's fingers. The man retreated. But the third man's fist was already in front of Lu Jianwei. Lu Jianwei didn't dodge. She raised her sleeve, and three silver needles flew out, the fine threads attached to their tails extending in the air, forming a palm-sized web. The fist struck the web, and the threads instantly entangled, tightening around the flesh. The man grunted and retracted his fist, his knuckles already bleeding. Zhu Hanli glanced at the opposite bank. The flow of spiritual energy in the forest was gathering, at least five points, all at the middle to upper stages of the Listening Realm. She gritted her teeth, spun her pistol, and knocked back the man who had attacked again, and said sternly, "Retreat! We can't go through!" "What?" Shama Aishi forced her opponent back with a sword, and an old wound on her side burst open, and blood was already seeping out. "The ferry is a trap," Zhu Hanli said quickly, "There's more ambush on the other side, forcing a breakthrough is certain death." She grabbed Lu Jianwei's wrist and turned to retreat. The three men in the teahouse didn't chase. They stood in place, watching the three of them retreat into the rocky beach outside the ferry, with a strange calmness on their faces. Zhu Hanli's heart sank. This reaction was wrong. Sure enough, as she stepped onto the edge of the rocky beach, a faint vibration suddenly came from the ground. It wasn't footsteps—it was the muffled sound of gears meshing. "The ground is sinking!" Shama Aishi shouted hoarsely. The stones beneath their feet suddenly collapsed, revealing a dark pit below. The bottom was covered with tightly packed iron spikes, the tips of which glowed with a faint blue light. Zhu Hanli didn't think, she plunged the pistol into the wall of the pit, using the force to jump upwards. Lu Jianwei shot out silver threads from her sleeve, entangling a protruding rock in the distance, barely stabilizing her. But Shama Aishi was a fraction of a second slower. She was in pain from the wound on her side, her movements faltered, and her left foot slipped. Her body fell downwards. Zhu Hanli's pupils constricted. She threw the pistol backwards, the barrel hitting Shama Aishi's waist, deflecting her sideways by half a foot. Lu Jianwei turned sharply to her: "That path was already broken! And—" "And we have no choice," Zhu Hanli interrupted, already helping Shama Aishi to her feet. "If we stay here, we'll be surrounded within half a stick of incense." Shama Aishi stood up, supporting herself with her injured leg, blood dripping from her pants. She didn't look at Zhu Hanli, but said softly, "I'll lead the way. The people of the Yi region are… fairly good at climbing mountains." The three of them turned and headed west. At the end of the rocky beach, a nearly vertical cliff rose up. Faintly visible on the cliff face were a few sections of decaying wooden remnants, the remaining traces of the path. The bottom of the cliff was overgrown with grass and vines, and the sound of crows grew louder in the distance. Shama Aishi led the way. With each step she took, a drop of blood fell from the wound on her right leg, leaving dark red marks on the loose stones. Lu Jianwei followed closely behind, her silver needles ready at any moment to secure the rocks. Zhu Hanli brought up the rear. She glanced back. On the opposite bank of the river, the first rays of dawn pierced through the clouds, illuminating the faint outlines of dark figures flashing among the trees. At least seven people were moving quickly. There wasn't much time left. She turned and followed the footsteps of the two in front. The shadows of the cliff enveloped them, cold and damp, with the smell of moss and decaying wood. The path was worse than imagined. Most of the wooden supports had already rotted and crumbled into wood chips at the slightest touch. The only places that could be stepped on were the natural indentations in the rock face, barely large enough for half a foot. Shama Aishi climbed slowly. The blood continued to flow. When she reached a height of about thirty feet, her foot slipped, and the rotten wooden support completely broke. As her body began to fall, Lu Jianwei shot out a silver thread from her sleeve, which wrapped around her waist. The silver thread was taut. Lu Jianwei grunted, her wrist marked with deep red lines, but she held on tightly. Zhu Hanli immediately climbed over and grabbed Shama Aishi's arm, and the three of them hung in the air, loose stones falling from the cliff face. The sound of approaching pursuers came from below. "Pull her up," Zhu Hanli said, gritting her teeth. The three of them worked together, barely managing to pull Shama Aishi back into the rock face indentation. Shama Aishi leaned against the rock face, gasping for breath, the cloth on her injured leg was completely soaked in blood, and her face was as white as a sheet. "We need to bandage it," Lu Jianwei said, her voice trembling. "There's no time," Zhu Hanli interrupted, looking up at the top of the cliff. There were at least sixty feet left. And the sound of the pursuers was already clear enough to hear the rustling of their clothes. She took a deep breath and reached into her pocket for the amulet mirror. The mirror was cool to the touch, and the inside faintly showed the matching spiritual patterns that corresponded to the one in Yue Tingzhou's hand. She lightly touched the mirror surface, and the spiritual patterns glowed slightly. But in the next instant. The mirror surface suddenly vibrated violently. It wasn't her spiritual energy that was causing it—it was a resonance from the other side. A sharp, chaotic, and blood-scented spiritual fluctuation was transmitted through the mirror, causing her fingertips to go numb. Something was wrong with Yue Tingzhou. Zhu Hanli's pupils constricted. The spiritual fluctuation from the mirror only lasted for three breaths, but that brief moment of resonance was enough for her to determine the direction—the Henglu Division's underground vault. The morning light streamed through the cliff crevice, illuminating the fine beads of sweat on Zhu Hanli's forehead, and the fleeting, almost icy calculation in her eyes. She turned her gaze away from the cliff below and turned around. Lu Jianwei was leaning against a weathered rock, her fingers twirling a silver needle, the tip pointed at her, but it was sharper than any blade. Shama Aishi was sitting beside her, blood seeping through the cloth on her ribs, and she was biting her teeth to keep from crying as she re-bandaged herself, her eyes fixed on Zhu Hanli. "Miss Zhu," Lu Jianwei said softly, like a doctor examining a patient. "Old Jun渡ed the ferryman, the calluses on his hands were from a crossbow, didn Shama Ashi’s hand moved to the hilt of the short sword at her waist. The movement was slow, but her knuckles were white. Zhu Hanli looked at that hand. She suddenly smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Mr. Lu is very observant." "Answer me," Lu Jianwei's needle tip moved forward half an inch. "Otherwise, the next needle will seal your 'Dantian'. You might be able to kill me, but Shama's injuries can't wait, and the pursuers behind can't wait either." The pressure was like a mountain. Zhu Hanli was silent for a moment. She raised her hand and began to untie the wrappings on her left wrist. Layer by layer, the fabric was removed, revealing the pale skin underneath, and the... azure pattern on the skin. The pattern was fine, like veins, or like some kind of living vine, winding upwards from the inner side of the wrist and disappearing into the sleeve. It pulsed with her breathing, emitting a faint but undeniable warmth. Lu Jianwei's pupils suddenly constricted, just by looking at the pattern and the flow of spiritual energy. "Ascribed pattern," he said, his voice tight. "Yes," Zhu Hanli's voice was calm, as if she were talking about someone else's business. "The 'Yin Scroll' wanted list of the Heavenly Mandate Book ranks 'Pear Lady' Zhu Hanli as number seventy-three. The inscribed pattern was branded last year during the Frost Festival, personally branded by Huo Qingya, the left enforcer of the Operations Department. This pattern will not fade, the pursuers will not stop; this person will not die, the wanted notice will not be lifted." Shama Ashi gasped. Lu Jianwei's needle tip froze in mid-air. "So you know," he stared at the azure pattern, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You know how they set the trap, how they track, how they mobilize the Frost Falcon Guard - because you have been hunted for nine whole months." "Eleven months and seven days," Zhu Hanli corrected her, re-tying the wrappings on her wrist to cover the glaring azure. "From the time I was branded with the inscribed pattern to the time I met Yue Tingzhou in the Iron Ore Mine, it has been eleven months and seven days. During that time, I have evaded four ambushes, shaken off seventeen groups of pursuers, and learned about three 'blind spots' in the Heavenly Mandate Book's spiritual energy scanning. The gaps that Mr. Lu mentioned were not coincidences, but information I obtained at the cost of two serious injuries." She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the two of them: "Now, are you still willing to go with me?" The wind grew stronger. The sound of footsteps from below the cliff was getting closer, mixed with the crisp sound of metal armor clashing. Lu Jianwei slowly retracted his silver needle. He didn't say yes, nor did he say no. He simply stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes. "Lead the way." Shama Ashi also stood up, supporting herself against the rock. The blood in her ribs had temporarily stopped, but her face was pale. She looked at Zhu Hanli for a long time, and finally asked in a hoarse voice, "Why do you help us?" Zhu Hanli had already turned and walked deeper into the cliff face. Her voice was carried away by the wind, but the words were clear: "Because there is an answer I want on Yue Tingzhou's body." —That was the "ascribed pattern." When incorporating the inscribed energy into the body to refine the meridians, if the inscribed energy cannot be controlled, it will backlash and leave such a mark on the body. It is both a wound and a kind of... credential that is deeply bound to the celestial mandate and the vast spiritual source system. "This is..." Lu Jianwei's voice was hoarse. "One of the original operators," Zhu Hanli continued, her tone as calm as if she were talking about someone else's business. "My father was one of the three original architects of the Heavenly Mandate Book. The 'secret daggers' that the Wan Mirror镖局 transported contained not goods, but seven original backup modules of the book." Shama Ashi gasped. Lu Jianwei's needle froze in mid-air. "My father discovered the 'backdoor' that Xie Wuchen had buried in the algorithm," Zhu Hanli said, gently stroking the azure inscribed pattern "If I truly wanted to harm you, you wouldn't have lived to see this moment," she said, each word like a blow against stone. "The hidden traps set by Lao Jun were deciphered by me three days in advance. That 'guest' at the teahouse was lured there intentionally – he had a badge indicating he was part of Huo Qingya's direct team, and I needed to confirm how far the main force of the pursuers had advanced." She took a step forward. 陆见微's needle tip was almost touching her chest. "Shama's injury was my fault," Zhu Hanli said, looking at 沙玛阿诗 with a heavy sense of regret. "I miscalculated the rate of erosion on the cliff face, and I didn't anticipate that section of the path would collapse. I take responsibility for this." She turned to 陆见微. "But what I haven't lied to you about is – I intend to dismantle the 'Book of Destiny' and dismantle Xie Wuchen's system of 'legal plunder.' To do this, I need allies. I need someone like Mr. Lu who can diagnose and analyze, and who can deduce the source of poisons. I need someone like Shama who is familiar with the mountains and is brave and resourceful. And I also need..." She paused, her voice softening. "Someone like 岳停舟, who still believes that the law should protect the weak." The mountain wind grew stronger, whipping her hair and revealing a faint, old scar on the side of her neck. It was a mark left by an arrow. 陆见微 stared at her. He stared at the mark on her wrist that synchronized with the pulse of the master scroll, and at the depths of her eyes, a mixture of guilt, calculation, and a desperate determination. After a long silence. 陆见微 slowly retracted the silver needles. He didn't speak. He turned and knelt beside 沙玛阿诗, re-examining the wound, applying medicine, and bandaging. His movements were still steady, but his fingertips trembled slightly. 沙玛阿诗 looked at 陆见微, then at 祝寒梨, and finally asked in a muffled voice, "My sister... have you found her?" 祝寒梨 closed her eyes. "I have," she said softly. "Three years ago, she was labeled as a 'high-match sample' and sent to Xie Wuchen's private 'body refining camp.' Three months later, her meridians were ruined, and she was dumped into a mine in the northern region. I only obtained her exact location last month, in the seventh cave of Mount Mang." 沙玛阿诗's eyes instantly turned red. She clenched the handle of her knife tightly, her knuckles cracking. "I will take you to find her," 祝寒梨 said. "That is my promise. But on the condition that we must first obtain complete evidence of the master scroll, and expose Xie Wuchen in the Grand Assembly. Otherwise, even if we save one, there will be countless others." 沙玛阿诗's chest heaved violently. She bit her teeth, and blood seeped from the corners of her mouth. Finally, she loosened her grip on the knife handle and squeezed out a single word from between her teeth: "Okay." After finishing bandaging 沙玛阿诗, 陆见微 stood up. He didn't look at 祝寒梨, but looked towards the winding path leading north at the foot of the cliff. "How long until the pursuers arrive?" "At most half an hour," 祝寒梨 said. "Huo Qingya's main force has been temporarily diverted by the activity around 岳停舟, but the scouts on the periphery have already reached this cliff face. We must cross 'Ghost Crying Gorge' before nightfall, where 唐逐鹤 has set up hidden traps that can buy us some time." "About 岳停舟..." 陆见微 finally turned his head, "You said he succeeded?" 祝寒梨 took out a talisman mirror from her sleeve. The surface of the mirror was slightly warm, with a layer of moist sheen. She touched her fingertips to it, and the surface rippled, revealing a faint string of spiritual script: "The seal has been obtained, and the mark has been imprinted. The sect mark appeared on the restriction." 陆见微 saw the words on the mirror, and his breathing faltered. "沈砺川..." he murmured. "It may not be 沈总缉 who personally set the restriction," 祝寒梨 said coldly, putting away the mirror. "But someone within the Heng律司 has undoubtedly been colluding with the Xie faction. 岳停舟 is now... probably more dangerous than we are." She said