Undercurrents

In the afternoon, the sand and soil of the Martial Arts Arena were washed clean by the rain.

Li Tui took a shortcut through the eastern corridor, holding the newly collected pine soot ink in his hand. His pace was steady and unhurried, yet his mind was occupied by that well in the West Suburbs.

He had only hastily buried the demon corpse that night and hadn't checked the well thoroughly. With the frequent rain these past few days, the water level was likely rising; if something were to bloat or leave behind traces, it would be another source of trouble.

Rounding the moon gate, he lifted his eyelids slightly and slowed his pace by half.

Ten steps away, Zhao Hao was walking from the opposite direction.

Their gazes met.

Li Tui lowered his eyes and stepped aside to the edge of the corridor, bowing his waist and back in a posture of humble submission. Zhao Hao did not stop, his cloth shoes brushing against the wet stone slabs with a rustling sound. The distance closed.

Five steps, three steps, one step...

The moment their sleeves were about to brush, Li Tui's heart sank without warning.

A tremor originating from the depths of his soul quietly rose. It was as if a dormant part within his body had been gently "flicked" by something invisible on the person opposite him.

Almost simultaneously, the Samsara Mirror deep within his sea of consciousness rippled with an infinitesimal tremor across its surface.

Across from him, Zhao Hao's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

He turned sharply, his right hand pressing firmly against the Ink Jade Pendant at his throat. That pendant, which had always been dull, was now emitting a scorching heat between his fingers.

Zhao Hao looked up, his eyes sharp as knives, locking onto Li Tui.

"You..." His voice was very low, strained. "Just now, did you feel anything?"

Li Tui had already steadied his breathing.

The heart palpitations had come and gone in a flash; now, his face showed only the lingering pallor of an unhealed injury and a perfectly timed look of confusion. He even swayed slightly at the right moment, his shoulders hunching as if he were truly too weak to stand steady.

"Young Master Hao?" His voice was faint. "Are you referring to...? I just suddenly felt dizzy. Perhaps it's because my injuries from a few days ago haven't fully healed, and my vitality is still weak... Please forgive my unseemliness."

As he spoke, he raised a hand to press his temple, his fingertips trembling.

The performance was flawless.

Zhao Hao did not speak.

He stared at Li Tui, those gloomy eyes now terrifyingly bright. The anomaly from just a moment ago had been too clear.

Yet this person before him... his face was pale, his breathing was erratic, and even his fingertips were trembling. Everything was reasonable and logical, yet it made him feel uneasy.

"Is that so." Zhao Hao curled his lips, but the arc did not reach his eyes, instead making his face appear cold and rigid in a way that belied his age. "If your injuries aren't fully healed, you should rest well. The paths in this estate are slippery; taking a fall... is no small matter."

The words were spoken lightly, but his gaze was heavy, slowly scraping across Li Tui's face.

Li Tui bowed slightly: "Thank you for your concern, Young Master. I will keep it in mind."

Zhao Hao said no more.

He took one last deep look at Li Tui, his gaze as if trying to carve this calm face and these overly still eyes into his very bones, before turning and walking away.

His cloth shoes stepped on the wet stone slabs, one step, then another, unhurried and steady, gradually fading into the distance.

Not until the sound of footsteps completely vanished at the corner of the corridor did Li Tui slowly straighten his back.

He opened his left hand, which had remained slightly curled, his palm cold and damp.

It wasn't an illusion.

The mirror had indeed moved just now. Although it was only for an instant, that heart palpitation, the ripples in his sea of consciousness, and the subtle, "famished" tremor emanating from the depths of the mirror... they could not be fake.

And Zhao Hao's reaction only served to confirm this.

Li Tui raised his hand, his fingertips unconsciously brushing his chest. Through the fabric, he could almost feel the cold outline of the mirror deep within his sea of consciousness.

Was the mirror warning him?

A vague thought weighed heavily upon him, yet it had not yet taken shape.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside for now. There were more pressing matters at hand.

The well in the West Suburbs, and the thing inside it, could not be left alone any longer. The buried demon corpse always left him feeling uneasy. The origin of that tumor was even more bizarre; leaving it unresolved would always be a hidden danger.

Regardless of what was hidden at the bottom of the well, it had to be cleaned up as soon as possible. Long delays lead to more trouble.

As for the mirror and the strange movement just now... he would have to wait and see.

Li Tui gripped the cool ink stick in his hand and turned to walk toward the West Courtyard quarters.

His pace remained steady, but his mind was made up.

He would go to the West Suburbs at nightfall.