Chen Wuya's fingers still curled around the bronze spindle at the end of the scroll, his palm retaining that warm tremor. The cloth pouch wrapped tightly around the Heavenly Machine Scroll rose and fell faintly against his chest, as though it had acquired a heartbeat of its own. He took a deep breath, his throat dry, and the surging visions in his spiritual sense finally subsided, leaving behind only one clear imprint—a path leading into a deeper hidden realm.
Bai Zhi stood half a step to his right, her sword still unsheathed, her fingertips resting on its hilt. Her gaze swept over the extinguished rune formations around them before returning to his face. Her voice was kept very low. "Can you move?"
He nodded and raised a hand to fasten the cloth pouch securely at his waist. The instant he finished, a faint sound came from the shadows in the corner.
A man emerged from behind a broken pillar, his footsteps soundless, a folding fan swaying lightly in his hand. Lean and wiry, he wore fitted black-and-blue clothing, with silver threads glinting faintly at his cuffs. He stopped three paces away from them and flicked open his fan, revealing a yellowed diagram densely packed with lines, apparently some kind of mechanism layout.
"You took it," he said. There was no reproach in his tone; if anything, it carried a trace of relief. "Then it is time for me to fulfill my promise as well."
Chen Wuya did not move, but his hand had silently slipped toward the edge of his pack. The system gave a soft tremor in his mind, and a message surfaced: Path undetermined, neither enemy nor ally.
"Who are you?" Bai Zhi asked, lifting her sword tip slightly.
The man closed his fan, the corner of his