The main hall of the Qingxuan Sect’s Discipline Hall was as vast and empty as a deep well. The stone walls were cold, absorbing sound and warmth. Several eternal lamps hung high above, their flames frozen and unmoving, casting long, hard shadows that carved the floor into a checkerboard of alternating light and dark. The air held the stale scent of aged incense ash, mingling with the damp, subterranean chill of the stone itself—a heavy, oppressive weight in the lungs. Lin Yi stood in the center of the hall. Ten meters above his head, a bronze mirror hung suspended. Its surface was ancient, its edges crawling with dark green patina. Intricate cloud and thunder patterns were carved into its back, deep within which an occasional faint, ethereal glimmer, neither metallic nor jade-like, flickered. This was the “Mirror of Heart-Inquiry.” Its polished face was directed downward, aimed directly at him. A cold, clear radiance spilled from the mirror—not warm, but carrying a needle-like chill that pierced through his clothes and pricked his skin directly. The light did not merely illuminate; it *seeped* in. Lin Yi felt his spirit, like a pond into which a stone had been cast, ripple uncontrollably. Fragments of memory—the blinding flash of dark red runes exploding in the relic tunnel, Shi Meng’s ragged gasps, the searing pain deep in his left arm that felt like it was tearing sinew from bone—all surged upward, clamoring for attention. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, only a weariness-worn calm remained in his gaze, like the ruins left after a storm, barely holding their shape. He subtly adjusted his stance, shifting more of his weight onto his uninjured right leg. His left arm was still tightly bound from shoulder to wrist with strips torn from his inner garment, wrapped densely, revealing only the stiff tips of his index and middle fingers. Beneath the wrappings, dark golden patterns were slowly creeping upward along his neckline, like the tendrils of some living thing, already reaching the edge of his jawbone. Now, under the mirror’s light, the skin over those patterns throbbed with a burning sting, as if red-hot coals were buried beneath. *Don’t think about it.* He took a deep breath, slow and deliberate, his chest expanding slightly, tugging at the dull ache in his ribs. He forcibly reeled all his focus back, like drawing in a net, to a single image: the narrow rock fissure, the skittering sounds of awakened tunnel creatures outside, the voices of the Qingxuan patrol drawing nearer, Shi Meng blocking the fissure entrance, his broad back taut as stone, the mingled scents of sweat and blood… “Disciple Lin Yi pays his respects to the esteemed Elders.” His voice, when it emerged, was steady, even carrying a trace of the hoarse weakness left after a brush with death. He bowed toward the high platform ahead. The gesture was flawless, impeccable. Only when straightening up did his body sway almost imperceptibly, a motion he anchored firmly with his right leg. On the high platform, the shadowy outlines of five or six figures sat. The light of the eternal lamps did not reach that high, merely sketching their blurred silhouettes. Some wore wide robes and sleeves, their auras heavy and still as mountains; others were slender in build, yet exuded a needle-sharp keenness. Spiritual senses, like intangible tentacles, extended from those silhouettes—cold, viscous—slowly drifting around him, probing every inch of his skin, every ripple of his spiritual energy. One sense in particular was exceptionally focused, carrying scrutiny and undisguised suspicion. It swept over his bandaged left arm multiple times before finally settling on his face, like a blade scraping bone. Lin Yi kept his eyelids lowered, his gaze fixed on a slightly sunken stone tile three feet in front of him. “Lin Yi.” A voice rang out. It was not loud, yet possessed a metallic, penetrating quality that reverberated through the hall, suppressing all other subtle noises. It came from the elder in black robes seated slightly left of center. His face was ruddy, his chin adorned with a neatly trimmed short beard. His eyes appeared gentle, but beneath that gentility lay an unfathomably cold abyss. “That you and Shi Meng survived the ‘Abyssal Fall’ relic is… extraordinary. Relate truthfully what you saw and experienced. Beneath the mirror’s light, speak no falsehood.” The last four words were uttered lightly, yet they hung in the air like four icicles. Above, the Mirror of Heart-Inquiry emitted a low hum, its radiance suddenly brightening by a third. That clear, cold light grew more “substantial.” Lin Yi He began his account. His tone was steady, but the details were rich enough to construct a vivid picture. How the runes shifted from dark red to a blinding bright crimson, how they stirred the earth vein spiritual energy into a violent, chaotic flow, how the solid stone passageway crumbled amidst deafening roars, rubble raining down like a storm. How he became separated from Shi Meng, how he relied on his last remaining instinct for energy flow to squeeze into a crevice in the rock. How narrow the crevice was, how it was nearly buried by subsequent collapses, the taste of dust and the charred, acrid smell of runaway spiritual energy in the air. It was all true. At least, most of it was true. The collapse was real, the fear was real, the narrow escape from death was real. He had just carefully blurred the timeline slightly and completely omitted certain details that "should not exist"—such as the bizarre suction force that erupted from his left arm on its own, destroying the energy form of the dark red runes. At the same time, he devoted more description to how Shi Meng, risking being buried alive, had clawed through the rubble with his bare hands to find him, and how, relying on sheer ferocity, he had forced a path through the continuously collapsing tunnel. As he spoke, his mind was intensely focused, like a tightrope walker. On one hand, he had to maintain the fluency and plausibility of his narrative; on the other hand, deep within his consciousness sea, a nearly imperceptible force carrying a cold, stabbing pain was being arduously "squeezed" out from the depths of his left arm. It was not spiritual energy. It was a sliver of "life-saving" power he had "stolen" from the ancient mirror at the heart of the ruins—a power he did not fully understand and could not control. It resided at the source of the mutation in his left arm, like a dormant venomous snake. Now, stimulated by the mirror's light, it slightly raised its head. Lin Yi guided this faint yet dangerous force, not outward, but inward. It spread like an extremely thin, brittle membrane, silently covering a specific area of his consciousness sea—where the fragmented illusions of his family's destruction and the core runic imprints related to "defying fate" associated with his left arm's mutation lay dormant. At the same time, an even finer thread of this power attempted to "envelop" the searing patterns beneath the skin of his left arm, blocking the mirror light's attempt to "deeply manifest" and probe them. Every attempt to "steal" a certain probing property of the mirror light felt like a red-hot iron needle being brutally driven into his temple and slowly stirred inside his skull. The pain was sharp and persistent. Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his temples, and the clothing on his back quickly soaked through, clinging to his skin, icy cold. A warm liquid welled up deep in his nasal cavity, carrying a rust-like, metallic sweetness. Without changing his expression, he made a swallowing motion, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced the mouthful of black blood that had risen to his throat back down. His throat burned fiercely. "...Later, the tunnel collapse gradually subsided. The two of us, by luck, found an upward fissure and managed to escape." Lin Yi's account was nearing its end. The weariness in his voice became even more pronounced, even carrying a faint tremor of lingering fear. "As for what exactly lay deep within the ruins that caused such a drastic change... This disciple's cultivation is shallow. At the time, I was only focused on fleeing for my life. Truly... I was unable to investigate further." He had finished. A deathly silence filled the great hall. Only the occasional faint crackle of the eternal lamp flames broke the quiet. Above, the originally smooth, watery radiance of the Mirror of Heart-Inquiry's surface now rippled slightly, like a pond wrinkled by the wind. At the center of the ripples, vague, distorted images flashed by—collapsing rocks, running figures, chaotic light and shadow—all roughly corresponding to Lin Yi's description. The mirror surface did not fluctuate violently, nor did it emit the piercing hum or intense light that signified "lies" or "major concealment." On the high platform, the roaming of several spiritual senses seemed to slow somewhat. Lin Yi kept his eyes lowered, maintaining his posture of bowing and listening. The burning pain in his left arm and the persistent needle-like stabbing in his skull made his vision darken intermittently, but he held on. Shi Meng stood half a step behind and to his side, like a silent stone statue. Only his heavy breathing showed he was equally unwell. The simple cloth bandage on his right arm seeped a grayish stain, emitting a faint, musty, rotten odor different from ordinary blood. "Oh?" Lin Yi sensed the light from the "Mirror of Inquiry" subtly adjusting its angle, focusing more intently on the left side of his body, particularly his bandaged left arm. The isolating membrane he had barely maintained with his "Plunder" power emitted an overwhelmed creaking sound. The burning pain beneath the skin of his left arm intensified instantly, and the patterns seemed to come alive, squirming faintly under the surface. "This disciple dares not speak recklessly." Lin Yi's voice grew even lower, carrying the weakness of depleted spiritual power and the pain of unhealed severe injuries. "Escaping alive was indeed due to repeated strokes of fortune. Aside from Senior Brother Shi's valiant protection, the outer passages of the ruins experienced several extremely brief 'stable intervals' during the most violent collapse. Those intervals appeared without any pattern, vanishing in an instant. The two of us gambled with our lives and barely managed to seize one such opportunity to rush into that fissure." He embedded another fragment of truth. The "stable intervals" did exist. When he forcibly activated his "Plunder" power, disturbing the energy patterns at the core of the ruins, it indeed created localized, highly unstable windows of spiritual energy calm. Truth interwoven with falsehood is the hardest to discern. "As for the fluctuations in the rules..." Lin Yi coughed twice at the opportune moment, the sound muffled in his chest, his shoulders trembling slightly. "At the time, this disciple only felt the pressure of the surrounding heaven and earth fluctuating wildly, the spiritual energy in utter chaos, all five senses under assault... It was truly difficult to discern their specific origin, let alone probe their nature. Merely retrieving my life was already... Heaven's mercy." The last four words were uttered with extreme difficulty, as if each one were stained with blood. On the high platform, another elder in a cyan robe, who had been resting with closed eyes, his hair and beard snow-white, twitched his eyelids slightly but did not open them. The black-robed elder's gaze, however, remained fixed like a nail on Lin Yi's left arm. "The injury to your left arm seems severe. Your movements are noticeably stiff and sluggish. Merely crushed by falling rocks? Fractures and bruising?" He leaned forward slightly, the needle-like pressure of his spiritual sense suddenly intensifying. "Could you remove the bandage and allow this old man a look? The sect's Hundred Herbs Hall also has elders proficient in treating bone injuries present. Perhaps they can examine you." Here it comes. The most direct crisis, like a lurking venomous snake, finally raised its deadly head. Removing the bandage would expose the mutated dark golden patterns on his left arm, along with the two stiffened fingers and the skin faintly tinged with an ominous bluish-gray hue. Nothing about fractures or bruising could conceal it. Lin Yi's heart clenched violently. Blood seemed to rush to his head in an instant, only to freeze the next moment. The needle-like agony inside his skull intensified sharply due to his emotional turmoil, and his vision darkened momentarily. He could almost feel those patterns beneath his skin growing hot under the dual stimulation of the mirror's light and the elder's spiritual sense, perhaps even emitting a faint glow. He couldn't remove it. If he did, everything would be over. His throat was dry. He swallowed a nonexistent mouthful of saliva, the rusty taste of the forcibly swallowed black blood rising again on his tongue. In that split second, countless excuses, evasions, and explanations flashed through his mind, each one rejected in turn. Under the gaze of the "Mirror of Inquiry" and several elders, any excessive resistance or unreasonable refusal would itself become the greatest flaw. Just as his fingertips turned cold and he prepared to force out words, even at the risk of worsening his injuries and spewing black blood, to feign weakness and beg for a sliver of room to maneuver— "Elder!" A coarse, hoarse roar, laced with obvious pain and impatience, suddenly exploded in the silent hall. Shi Meng, who had been silent as a stone, suddenly took a large step forward, almost standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Lin Yi. His movement was forceful, tugging at the wound on his right arm. The grayish stain on the bandage instantly spread larger, and theputrid stench immediately grew stronger. Disregarding it all, he raised that terrifying-looking right arm and pointed straight at the high platform, the thick muscles on his dark face twitching. "This arm of mine! Where that damned energy from the ruins drilled in! It's getting number and number, almost no feeling left now!" Shi Meng's voice echoed like a broken gong in the vast hall, rudely shattering the precise, oppressive balance of the previous interrogation rhythm. "Junior Brother Lin's arm was crushed! I saw it with my own eyes—a rock rolled down and hit it! Bruised and swollen up Before the words had fully faded, as if in concert with Shi Meng, Lin Yi's body suddenly swayed. This time it was no pretense—the intense headache and the weakness from the backlash in his left arm truly made him unsteady on his feet. He abruptly raised his right hand to cover his mouth and nose, unable to suppress a burst of heart-rending coughs. "Cough… cough—!" Each cough seemed to drain all his strength, his shoulders trembling violently. Between his fingers, dark red, frothy blood seeped out uncontrollably, trickling down the back of his hand and dripping onto the cold, hard stone bricks, blooming into a few stark, dark blossoms. In the great hall, the rhythmic "thump, thump" tapping sound ceased. The outlines of the Elders on the dimly lit high platform seemed to shift subtly. The roving spiritual senses briefly stilled and intersected, as if exchanging something in silence. The white-haired, azure-robed Elder seated in the center, who had remained silent until now, slowly opened his eyes. What kind of eyes were they? Calm, profound, like two ancient wells, reflecting not a hint of emotion, yet seeming capable of piercing through all falsehood. His gaze first fell upon Shi Meng's right arm, eroded with a deathly gray hue and exuding a disquieting aura, lingering for a moment. Then, it turned to Lin Yi, who was bent over coughing with blood seeping between his fingers. Finally, it swept across the surface of the "Heart-Querying Mirror" suspended above—the ripples on the mirror's surface had subsided considerably, leaving only faint undulations, showing no signs of abnormally intense fluctuations. Time stretched, magnified several times over by the oppressive silence and the pungent smells of blood and decay. Each breath felt like an eternity. Lin Yi's coughing gradually subsided, turning into painful gasps. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His face, under the light of the Everlasting Lamps, was pale to the point of translucency, his forehead hair soaked with cold sweat and clinging to his skin. He still kept his eyes lowered, but every muscle in his body was tensed, awaiting the final verdict. Would they insist on examining the left arm, pursuing suspicion to the end? Or… The white-haired Elder's lips finally moved slightly. His voice was aged, even, devoid of any emotion, yet carrying the weight of a final conclusion. "Since that is the case…" Shi Meng's voice was like a stone thrown into stagnant water. All gazes in the main hall of the Enforcement Hall converged. The black-robed Elder's brows furrowed deeper, his fingertips tapping twice lightly on the armrest of his seat—the sound was faint, yet it made the burning pain in Lin Yi's left arm leap violently. "Shi Meng." The black-robed Elder's voice remained gentle, but each word seemed wrapped in ice. "The Enforcement Hall has its own procedures for questioning." "I know the procedures," Shi Meng retorted stubbornly, raising his right arm even higher. The grayish erosion marks seeped from the edges of the bandage, emitting a faint odor of decay that mingled with the cold air of the hall. "But this injury can't wait for procedures. Elder, look—" He took another half-step forward, almost bumping into Lin Yi's shoulder. Lin Yi seized this gap. The warm surge rising in his throat could no longer be suppressed, so he ceased trying. His body abruptly hunched over as a series of suppressed coughs exploded from deep within his chest, shaking his entire frame. He raised his hand to cover his mouth, and dark liquid immediately seeped between his fingers—not bright red, but a thick, near-black viscous substance mixed with congealed blood. The coughing echoed in the vast hall. A few drops of black blood splattered onto the cold floor tiles, staining a small patch. "This disciple… has lost composure." Lin Yi gasped for breath, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper had scraped it. He released his hand, his palm stained a dark red, fingertips still trembling slightly. "The left arm is merely fractured, with congealed blood not yet dispersed… If the Elders wish to examine it, this disciple dare not refuse. Only…" He paused, lifting his pale face. "Only, at this moment, this disciple's spiritual power is in disarray, his qi and blood are flowing in reverse. I fear… I fear that during the examination, it might instead interfere with the clarity of the 'Heart-Querying Mirror'." The words were spoken respectfully, yet a thorn was embedded within. The black-robed Elder stared at him for three breaths. Those three breaths felt as long as three years. Lin Yi could feel the radiance of the 'Heart-Querying Two medical practitioners in pale blue robes hurried in, carrying medicine chests. The elder of the two first bowed to the elders, then swept his gaze over Lin Yi and Shi Meng, his brow immediately furrowing. "This erosion..." He walked to Shi Meng's side, his fingers hovering above the grayish, necrotic wound, not daring to touch it directly. "It's a residual trace of the rules from deep within the ruins. We must first use 'Dust-Cleansing Powder' to extract the foreign substance, then apply 'Flesh-Growing Ointment.' If delayed too long, the meridians of the entire arm will be ruined." He then turned to Lin Yi, his expression even graver. "Coughing black blood, spiritual power exhaustion, violent spiritual fluctuation... you forcibly activated something you shouldn't have." The medical practitioner placed his fingers on Lin Yi's wrist pulse. After a moment, he withdrew his hand and shook his head. "The internal injuries are severe. Let me see your left arm." Lin Yi's heart skipped a beat. He slowly raised his left arm, deliberately making his movements slow and deliberate, each motion pulling at the pain throughout his body. The cloth strips were unwrapped layer by layer, revealing the skin beneath—dark golden patterns had already spread above the elbow, shimmering with an ominous glow under the cold light of the Heart-Querying Mirror. Fortunately, the bruising and swelling he had intentionally forced out with spiritual power at the edges of the patterns masked the most bizarre details, making it look like a severe crush injury. The medical practitioner's fingers pressed against it. Every muscle in Lin Yi's body tensed instantly. The fingers carried a warm, probing spiritual power, like a slender snake attempting to burrow deep into his flesh. The alien power in his left arm almost instinctively fought back, but he suppressed it fiercely. The burning pain surged, and the skin beneath the patterns grew slightly warm, though the swelling masked the temperature change. "Indeed a fracture," the medical practitioner said, withdrawing his hand and retrieving a jar of ointment from the medicine chest. "The stagnant blood is deep, and the meridians are also damaged. I'll immobilize it for you first and apply bruise-dispersing powder. For three days, you must not exert force with this arm, and spiritual power must not circulate through it." Lin Yi lowered his gaze. "Thank you, Senior Brother." The moment the ointment was applied, a wave of coolness suppressed the burning pain. But immediately after, that coolness was mixed with a faint, subtle sensation of absorption—as if something was quietly probing deep into his meridians through his skin. He snapped his head up. The medical practitioner was lowering his head to bandage the arm, his expression completely normal. Was it an illusion? No. Lin Yi's fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly against the side of his thigh. Once, twice, thrice. The rhythm was light, but each tap struck his taut nerves. He looked at Shi Meng—Shi Meng was grimacing, enduring the pain of the 'Dust-Cleansing Powder' extracting the erosion, his forehead covered in cold sweat. But when his eyes swept over, he gave Lin Yi an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Meaning: Didn't detect it. Or: Detected it, but didn't say anything. The bandaging was quickly completed. His left arm was immobilized against his chest, the thick bandages covering all the patterns. The medical practitioner stepped aside and bowed to the elders. "The external injuries have been treated. However, both their internal energies are unstable. I recommend they rest and be observed in the side hall of the Enforcement Hall until their spiritual power stabilizes before any decisions are made." The white-haired elder finally opened his eyes. They were very old eyes, the pupil color so faint it was nearly gray, looking at people as if they were objects. His gaze lingered on Lin Yi's face for a moment, then turned to Shi Meng, before finally returning to Lin Yi's chest. "Lin Yi," he said. "Disciple is here." "You survived the ruins. That is luck, but also a variable," the elder's voice was flat, without inflection. "The sect has always been cautious regarding variables." He took something from his sleeve. It was a cyan jade talisman, roughly the size of a thumb, its surface smooth and warm, carved with intricate runes. The talisman, supported by spiritual power, slowly floated to hover before Lin Yi. "This is the 'Spirit-Nourishing Jade Talisman,'" the elder said. "Wear it close to your body. It will help stabilize your injuries and monitor your spiritual recovery. Until you receive permission, you may not leave the confines of the Enforcement Hall. Where the talisman is, you remain within the sect's sight." Lin Yi stared at the jade talisman. It hung in the air, emitting a faint spiritual fluctuation—a gentle, The ‘Mirror of Inquiring Hearts’ still hung in the center of the main hall, its surface reflecting the empty stone walls and the frozen flames of the eternal lamps. The figures of several elders sat in the high seats, their outlines blurred and cut by the dim light. No one spoke anymore. The hall doors slowly closed behind them. *** The side hall was much smaller than the main hall, containing only a stone table, a few stone stools, and a simple meditation cushion in the corner. The walls were similarly made of cold stone, but there were two narrow windows offering a view of the grey inner walls of the Law Enforcement Hall courtyard—nothing beyond. A law enforcement disciple stood guard outside the door, which was left slightly ajar. Only the two of them remained inside. Shi Meng plopped down on a stone stool and let out a long sigh that sounded like a leaky bellows. He pulled open the freshly changed bandage on his right arm for a look—the withered erosion marks had faded somewhat, but an unhealthy dark hue still showed beneath the skin. “Damn it…” he cursed, his voice kept low. “Sprinkling that powder on felt like a red-hot brand being pressed on.” Lin Yi didn’t respond. He walked to the window and looked out through the narrow slit. The courtyard was empty, only the occasional distant sound of patrolling disciples’ boots scraping against the stone ground, faint but unnervingly regular. The ‘Spirit-Containing Jade Talisman’ on his chest continued to emit a faint, cool, suction-like sensation, as if an eye was pressed there, staring unblinkingly. He raised a hand, his fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly against the windowsill. *Tap. Tap. Tap.* The rhythm was steady, but each tap fell upon a gradually accumulating sense of suffocation. “Thanks,” Lin Yi suddenly spoke, his voice still hoarse but devoid of the feigned weakness from earlier in the hall. Shi Meng was taken aback for a moment, then scratched the back of his head. “For what? My arm really hurts. It’d be useless if I didn’t get it treated.” “I know.” Lin Yi turned around, leaning his back against the cold wall. His left arm was immobilized and couldn’t move, but his right hand hung at his side, fingertips still trembling slightly—a residual reaction from excessively urging the power of ‘Theft.’ His face was frighteningly pale, his eyes bloodshot, but his gaze was calm, as still as a stagnant pond. “Back in the hall,” he said, “when you took that half-step forward, your timing was perfect.” Shi Meng grinned, trying to laugh, but winced as it tugged at his wound. “I just got anxious seeing that old man fixated on your arm. That time you coughed up blood… was it real or an act?” “Real.” Lin Yi paused. “But the timing of coughing it up was chosen.” “Ruthless.” Shi Meng clicked his tongue and fished something out from his robe—crudely wrapped in oiled paper, still carrying a hint of body warmth. He tossed one to Lin Yi. “Here.” Lin Yi caught it. Inside the oiled paper was a dry, hard flatbread, its edges rough enough to feel sharp, yet it still retained a faint trace of lingering warmth. He looked down at it, unmoving. “What’re you looking at? Eat it.” Shi Meng had already taken a big bite, chewing with a loud crunch. “I hid it on me to bring in. Who knows when the next meal will be in this damned place.” Lin Yi was silent for several breaths. Then he tore open the oiled paper and took a forceful bite. The bread was hard; crumbs mixed with saliva were difficult to swallow, scraping painfully down his throat. But after swallowing, a long-missing, substantial warmth spread in his stomach. A crude warmth. But tangible. Leaning against the wall, he slowly ate the bread, his gaze falling on Shi Meng’s withered arm. “What exactly happened to your injury?” Shi Meng’s chewing paused briefly. “Inside the ruins, weren’t there those dark red runes floating around?” His voice lowered. “When I blocked that strike for you, a fragment got embedded in the flesh. Didn’t feel it at the time, only realized later… the damn thing was burrowing inward.” He pulled open the bandage, pointing at the dark streak beneath the skin. “Like it’s alive. The medical cultivator called it some ‘remnant trace of rules’ or something—I didn’t get it. Anyway, gotta use medicine to slowly draw it out. If it’s not completely removed, this arm’s done for.” Lin Yi looked at that dark streak. He remembered the floating, seemingly living fragments of runes deep within the ruins. He remembered Lin Yi finished the last bite of his pancake, crumpled the greased paper into a ball, and clenched it in his palm. He walked over to the stone table and sat down, opening his right hand. The paper ball fell onto the tabletop with a soft *tap*. "That jade token," he suddenly said, "it's not just for monitoring spiritual energy." Shi Meng looked up. "What do you mean?" "I sensed it just now." Lin Yi's fingertip traced lightly on the tabletop, making no sound, but the movement was slow, as if outlining something. "Its runic structure has three layers of guidance arrays nested within. One layer monitors spiritual energy fluctuations, one layer tracks location, and another layer..." He paused. "And another layer is connected to some kind of higher-order sensing core. Not from the Enforcement Hall. Something higher up." Shi Meng's expression froze. "You're saying..." "Higher-ups of the sect." Lin Yi withdrew his hand, his gaze falling on the slightly ajar hall door. "Our every move isn't just being watched by the Enforcement Hall now. There's another pair of eyes, hanging higher up." The air inside the hall seemed to grow several degrees colder again. Shi Meng put down the pancake in his hand and remained silent for a long time. Finally, he cursed under his breath, his voice pressed extremely low, but each word seemed squeezed out from between his teeth. "So what do we do now? Just stay leashed like this?" "For now." Lin Yi said. He raised his still-functional right hand and pressed it against the spot on his chest where the jade token lay. Through the fabric, he could feel its warm, smooth outline and the persistent sense of suction. His fingertip exerted slight pressure, as if wanting to pry it off, but in the end, he just left it there. "The jade token is a shackle, but also a clue." His voice was very soft, like talking to himself. "It can monitor us, and we can... read it in reverse." "Read what?" "Read what those eyes are looking at." Lin Yi raised his eyes to look at Shi Meng. "Read how deep the sect's fear of 'variables' truly runs. Read how we should take each next step so it doesn't see it in advance." Shi Meng stared at him, then after a long moment, let out a breath. "I don't understand all this roundabout talk," he said. "Just tell me, what do we do next?" Lin Yi didn't answer immediately. He turned his head, looking again toward that narrow window. Outside the window, the grey walls of the Enforcement Hall's inner courtyard turned into a blurry shadow in the gradually darkening sky. The sound of distant patrol footsteps was still audible, regular, persistent, like some kind of countdown. The suction sensation from the jade token on his chest suddenly rippled slightly. Very subtle. Like the calm surface of water broken by an invisible grain of sand. Lin Yi's fingertip abruptly tightened. "Wait," he said. "Wait for what?" "Wait for the Hundred Herbs Hall people to come change the dressing again." Lin Yi's voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. "Wait for the night to deepen a little more. Wait for those eyes up high... to blink slightly." He paused for a moment, then added another sentence. "Then, we have to figure out exactly who this jade token is connected to. And—" He looked at Shi Meng, something in his eyes sinking deeper. "And how to make it temporarily 'not see' what it should see." Outside the hall, the patrol footsteps gradually faded into the distance. Inside the hall, the two sat facing each other, neither speaking again. That 'Spirit-Containing Jade Token' on their chests emitted a faint cyan glow in the dim light, like an eye that never closed. And outside the window, the sky was darkening inch by inch.