[Vol. 1, Fragment VI: The Inner Palace ? Secrets of Transmission]

  "The Sacred Will is hard to fathom, thus it is never committed to paper or brush. The true secret decrees are often not written on scrolls, but revealed in mirrors, or hidden inside the mouths of the dead. Note: If the mirror cracks, it means His Majesty is... anxious."

  — Directorate of Astronomy ? Compilation of Obscure Knowledge

  [Internal Note / Directorate of Astronomy] "Overtime": Refers to when your body is already scrapped and your mind is on the brink of collapse, but the Client (Big Daddy) suddenly says: I want a Liuli just like that one.

  Morning at the Miscellaneous Division began with a grating crunch-crunch-crunch of chewing.

  Xie Bi’an lay on a bamboo recliner, his face covered by the Records of Strange Tales from the Great Wilderness—which felt greasy to the touch, like human skin—trying to block the harsh sunlight streaming through the broken window.

  He was in bad shape.

  Last night’s "Liuli Seal" had been executed beautifully, but the backlash was severe. His right hand was still as stiff as a stone. Although sensation had returned, the bone-deep chill forced him to clutch a hot water bottle filled with boiling water just to barely feel his fingertips, even in this muggy early summer morning.

  The cold wasn't radiating from within his body; rather, an indescribable, non-human aura was forcibly seeping into his flesh and blood.

  Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel an icy river rushing through the veins of his right hand, trying to wash him entirely into that transparent, dead crystal.

  "Chew quietly," Xie Bi’an protested weakly from under the book. "Fatty, those are teeth, not a millstone. The sound is making my bones ache."

  Deep in the shadows of the room, Xianchan the golden cat was sprawled on his back amidst a pile of talisman-covered clay jars.

  He was a size larger than yesterday. His usually fluffy golden fur now gleamed with a hard metallic luster. His belly was round and rolling, rising and falling with his breath, occasionally emitting a thunderous gurgle that made the surrounding clay jars buzz in sympathy.

  Yesterday’s "big meal" had been too nutritious.

  The essence of the Liuli-fied Filth was, for this Prison-Guarding Divine Beast, equivalent to swallowing an entire gold mine.

  Right now, what he was chewing wasn't ordinary food, but a piece of crystallized bone fragment that had fallen off the Meat Buddha. The thing was as hard as diamond, yet he was crunching it into powder—crack, crack, crack.

  Burp.

  Xianchan let out a satiated belch, puffing out a golden smoke ring that smelled of sulfur. His eyes were glazed. "Father, this bone gets stuck in my teeth, and it still tastes like corpse oil. Can we change flavors next time? I want something crunchier, like skeleton soldiers. High calcium content."

  "Be grateful you have anything to eat."

  Xie Bi’an lifted the book from his face, revealing eyes webbed with red bloodshot lines. Fur Elise had been looping in his brain all night, nearly giving him a nervous breakdown.

  "Where’s Anu?" He looked around.

  "On the beam." Xianchan pointed lazily at the ceiling. "She’s training. Said her cutting wasn't smooth enough last night, so she’s reflecting."

  Xie Bi’an looked up. The silver cat Anu was hanging upside down from the roof beam, holding on only with her tail hooked around the wood. Her body hung straight down, eyes closed, radiating a sharp aura that warned the living to stay away. Occasionally, her claws would pop out, slicing silent silver lines through the air, clearly simulating some cutting trajectory.

  These two cats—one slept after eating, the other was still grinding after killing. The difference in personality gave Xie Bi’an, the shovel-officer, a headache.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Suddenly, knocking sounds came from outside the door.

  This time, the knocking was heavy, urgent, carrying an undeniable official pressure. Accompanied by the knocking was the uniform sound of armor friction—heavy military boots stomping on bluestone, the vibration shaking dust from the roof.

  Xie Bi’an sighed, tossed the hot water bottle aside, and sat up from the chair.

  "I knew it." He rubbed his temples, wearing a face of world-weariness. "Business is too good, trouble follows."

  He walked over and pulled the door open.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Standing outside was, as expected, Shen Wu.

  But this time, behind Shen Wu were two rows of fully armed Mirror Demon Division Imperial Guards. Each wore black combat gear and hideous bronze masks, revealing only cold eyes. Hands on their hilts, they blocked the alley entrance with murderous intent.

  "Quite the lineup." Xie Bi’an leaned against the doorframe, looking at Shen Wu with a smile that wasn't a smile. "Commander Shen, are you here to arrest me, or to seal up my broken yamen?"

  Shen Wu’s face didn't look good. Dark circles shadowed his eyes; clearly, he hadn't slept well either. Though he had changed into a new set of expensive cloud-pattern combat robes, he still radiated a chill that kept people at a distance.

  "Not to arrest you."

  Shen Wu stepped aside. Behind him, an Imperial Guard holding a tray covered with a black cloth walked forward respectfully.

  "It is His Majesty... who wants to see you."

  "His Majesty?" Xie Bi’an raised an eyebrow, his gaze landing on the tray.

  "Less than an hour after the memorial was submitted last night, the Palace sent this."

  Shen Wu reached out and lifted the black cloth from the tray.

  Resting on the tray was not an imperial edict, but a bronze mirror.

  It was an ancient bagua mirror, its rim carved with cloud and thunder patterns, but the surface was blurred, as if covered by a thick layer of water mist.

  The moment the black cloth was removed, the bronze mirror seemed to sense Xie Bi’an’s aura and suddenly vibrated violently.

  Zzzzt.

  The mirror surface ground out a screeching sound like fingernails scraping across glass.

  Then, the water mist on the surface began to roil and change color, finally oozing crimson blood water.

  The blood didn't flow randomly. It moved as if countless invisible maggots were crawling inside the mirror, devouring and entangling each other, finally forcibly "squeezing" out two lines of twisted, dripping characters on the surface:

  SUMMON DIRECTORATE OF ASTRONOMY, XIE BI'AN ENTER PALACE IMMEDIATELY

  The handwriting was extremely scrawled, every stroke looking like a scratch mark made in despair. The last stroke dragged out a long trail of blood, flowing to the edge of the bronze mirror and dripping into the tray—drip, drip.

  Xie Bi’an smelled not ink, but the thick, nauseating scent of aged preservatives.

  "This calligraphy..." Xie Bi’an frowned, critiquing, "His Majesty’s mind seems a bit chaotic."

  Watching Xie Bi’an’s nonchalant attitude, Shen Wu couldn't help lowering his voice to warn him. "This isn't an ordinary summons. This is a 'Mirror Decree.' It is only used when the nation is about to fall, or... when something unspeakable has happened."

  "Xie Bi’an, that trick you showed at White Horse Temple—the 'Gold-Inlaid Liuli'—has alarmed the One Above."

  Shen Wu pointed to the sky, then toward the Imperial Palace, his tone grave. "His Majesty has been obsessed with immortality for years. Your craftsmanship, to him... is a fatal temptation."

  "Temptation?" Xie Bi’an sneered, looking at the blood still oozing from the mirror. "Looks more like a life-saving straw to me. That Emperor... is probably 'rotting' so fast he can't hold it in anymore."

  He turned and walked back into the room to pack.

  There wasn't much to pack, really. He just shoved the faintly heating Records of Strange Tales into his chest and hung the empty wine gourd at his waist.

  "Fatty, get up and work." Xie Bi’an kicked Xianchan on the floor.

  "No..." Xianchan rolled over, hugging his round belly and groaning. "Stuffed to death... can't move... Father, you go... I need to digest... this bone hasn't dissolved yet..."

  Xie Bi’an frowned. This damn fatty always dropped the ball at critical moments.

  But he also knew Xianchan’s current state really wasn't suitable for combat. The cat was like a high-pressure bomb filled with energy; a slight movement might cause him to spray golden fire.

  And...

  Xie Bi’an glanced at the room full of restless clay jars.

  The fresh Filthy Qi brought back last night seemed to have stimulated these long-sealed monsters. The jars with talismans were vibrating slightly, emitting various scratching, roaring, and whispering sounds, appearing abnormally excited.

  The house couldn't be left unguarded. If a fierce beast capable of suppressing the scene wasn't here, by the time he came back, the Miscellaneous Division would probably turn into a Parade of a Hundred Ghosts.

  "Fine." Xie Bi’an sighed helplessly. "You stay and guard the door. Remember, don't steal the stuff in the jars. Especially that crying baby jar; eating that gives you diarrhea."

  "Got it..." Xianchan waved a paw perfunctorily and went back to sleep, but a golden halo faintly radiated from beneath him, firmly suppressing the restless clay jars.

  "Anu."

  Xie Bi’an beckoned to the roof beam.

  With a flash of silver, Anu landed silently on his shoulder. She was spirited, silver pupils flashing with cold light, clearly filled with hunting interest regarding "entering the Palace." She didn't like eating dead things; she liked fluid, fresh prey full of variables.

  "I can only take you this time." Xie Bi’an stroked her head, feeling the silk-smooth fur. "The Palace is very dirty. Fatty’s heavy firepower might tear the house down. A 'scalpel' like you is more useful."

  Anu lifted her chin proudly, purring, and swept the tip of her tail lightly across Xie Bi’an’s neck in agreement.

  Xie Bi’an walked out the door and nodded to Shen Wu.

  "Let's go, Commander Shen."

  He looked at the bronze mirror still oozing blood, his eyes turning dark. "Let's go see what kind of 'surprise' this Emperor who seeks immortality has prepared for us."

  Shen Wu looked at Xie Bi’an, wanting to speak but stopping.

  Finally, he just waved his hand, signaling the guards to clear the way.

  "Gleaner Xie," Shen Wu suddenly whispered before boarding the carriage, a trace of imperceptible trembling in his voice. "Once inside the Hall of Eternal Life, don't look around, don't speak out of turn. And... don't breathe too heavily."

  "Why?"

  "Because the air there..." Shen Wu’s face turned somewhat pale, as if recalling something extremely unpleasant. "It makes people grow things they shouldn't grow. Last time a eunuch sneezed in the hall, the next day... his nose grew..."

  Xie Bi’an paused.

  He looked up at the Imperial Palace shrouded in gray mist in the distance. The tip of his nose once again caught that familiar, disgusting scent of rust.

  "Grow things?"

  Xie Bi’an touched his own cold right hand, feeling the non-human hardness. The corner of his mouth hooked into a self-mocking smile.

  "It doesn't matter."

  "I’m already... not purely human anyway."

  The carriage started moving.

  The wheels crushed over the bluestone slabs, making a gug-gug sound, carrying this "Gleaner" toward the core—and the most rotten abyss—of the Great Wei Dynasty.

  Inside the room, after Xie Bi’an left, the golden fat cat slowly opened one eye.

  That eye no longer held the laziness from before. The pupil was a vertical golden slit, replaced by the violence and majesty of an ancient beast.

  He scanned the surrounding clay jars, which were vibrating even more frantically upon hearing the master leave. A low roar, like rolling thunder, rumbled in his throat:

  "Quiet down, all of you. Father isn't home... so I am the law."