After returning to Xuanji Hall, Su Ming walked straight into the Scripture Pavilion.
He had not visited the old building hidden on the eastern side of the Main Peak in a very long time.
The Scripture Pavilion's doors had been carved from a single slab of bluestone.
The hinges had gone years without maintenance, and when pushed open, they let out a heavy creak.
The Spirit Lamps inside the hall were still lit, their wicks burning with thin flames that cast long, slender shadows.
Rows upon rows of bookshelves stood there, stretching from the floor all the way to the vaulted ceiling, every compartment stuffed full of scrolls and Jade Slips.
The air was filled with the smell of old dust, dry and heavy.
Su Ming did not stop before the outer shelves.
He went straight to the deepest part of the Scripture Pavilion.
Passing through several rows of shelves that clearly had not been touched in ages, he walked over a thick layer of dust, every step leaving a distinct footprint behind.
The labels on those book spines had faded badly. Some had only a blurry outline left.
He stood before the final bookshelf, his gaze slowly sweeping over the dust-covered spines.
Study of Heavens and Stars, Covenant of Ten Thousand Races, Origin of Chaos, Records of Archaic Wonders.
None of these were what he was looking for.
Su Ming pressed his fingers against the bookshelf.
At last, they stopped on a tattered volume whose spine had completely faded, its original color almost impossible to make out.
He gently drew it out.
The pages had yellowed and turned brittle, the writing on the cover worn down until only a few strokes remained, with several small holes eaten through by insects.
Holding the tattered volume, he walked to the window