Chen Wuya raised a hand, signaling them to stop. The three pressed close to the ice wall. Ahead, the red line along the edge of that black stain on the ground was still clearly visible—thin as a hair, yet gleaming with a dark crimson sheen.
He took half a token from his robes. It had fallen from a Demonic Cult protector while the man fled in panic during their pursuit outside a Demonic Cult stronghold. The token was charred black, as if scorched by raging flames, and a fragmentary line was engraved on its front: "...the far north is the beginning, the south..."
Mo Feng immediately leaned in. He said nothing, merely opened his mechanism device and placed the token on a metal tray. Probes slowly extended and lightly swept over its surface. A light-film projection appeared in the air, revealing two layers of patterns—an outer layer in disarray, like traces left by deliberate scratching, and a far more orderly inner layer, where the outline of a complete sentence could faintly be made out.
"Two layers of engraving." Mo Feng ran a finger across the phantom image. "The outside is fake. The inside is the real thing."
Bai Zhi stared at the projection, her brows drawing together slightly. She moved closer, her gaze settling on a spiral pattern on the back of the token. It resembled swirling clouds and thunder, with subtle pauses at its turns.
She reached up to touch the jade pendant at her waist. Taking it off to compare them, she discovered that the paths of the patterns were almost identical—even the depth and curve of each arc barely differed.
"This pattern," she said, "I've seen it on my master's jade pendant."
Chen Wuya turned to look at her.
"It's carved in exactly the same way as