The Great Art

The moment Ye Yan pushed the door open, a copper bell trembled above his head, emitting a muffled chime that sounded like a sigh rising from the depths of distant history.

Dim candlelight flickered to life, one lamp after another, igniting in sequence along the deep corridor of bookshelves.

A layer of amber shimmer rose from the thirty rows of silent oak shelves, like hibernating creatures briefly roused from sleep before sinking back into stillness.

[Hello, Administrator.]

A strange voice, a blend of male and female, bypassed his sense of hearing and resonated directly within Ye Yan's mind.

The sound was like countless tiny grains of sand rolling across glass, or a feather lightly brushing against an eardrum.

"H-hello, may I ask who you are?"

Ye Yan's voice sounded somewhat thin in the vast, empty bookstore.

[I am Samsara, I am Bookstore, we are the soul of Samsara Bookstore. Since our birth, we have known that an Administrator would come to awaken us, yet we did not expect the wait to last five thousand years.]

Wind swept between the shelves, causing the candle flames to dip low.

Carrying a trace of melancholy and solitude, wax dripped like tearstains, congealing on the brass candlesticks.

Ye Yan did not know what to say for a moment.

Five thousand years of waiting—a human life is but a mere hundred years—the contrast made his chest feel tight, as if something heavy were pressing down upon his heart.

"I apologize, I should have come sooner."

[No need to apologize, Administrator, we are glad for your arrival. And you have brought us an interesting travelogue; in return, we shall bestow knowledge upon you.]

The bookstore's voice turned lighthearted, and the wind chime at the entrance began to sway gently.

[Look, and feel.]

The bookstore's voice vanished, and melodious birdsong echoed in Ye Yan's ears, as if softly humming a tune of unknown origin, carrying a cool breeze into his dreams.

His body gradually grew heavy, yet his soul felt weightless, as if it were about to drift away.

Yellow sand filled the sky.

Ye Yan saw a city of rock, sipping sand and drinking dust, fading into obscurity within the wind; its name was Mia.

This was a story about sand.

And as the bookstore had promised, he had indeed gained knowledge from it: a recipe for creating [Salt Trace] using sea salt.

Salt Trace, a first-tier item that can be stored for one month, possesses tracking and revealing functions.

Ye Yan slowly woke from his dream.

He subconsciously touched his cheek, as if he could still feel the lingering heat of the desert. Recalling the item recipe he had just obtained, his heart stirred with excitement, and the corners of his mouth curled upward involuntarily.

As far as he knew, only the Sanctum could allow church members to awaken tracking and revealing abilities through the Rite of Light.

If he could craft Salt Trace, it would be equivalent to possessing an additional skill; how could he not be excited?

Knowledge is power.

Indeed, this saying held true no matter where one was.

[Administrator, have you obtained the knowledge?]

The bookstore's voice sounded again, this time with a hint of anticipation.

"Yes, I obtained the recipe for Salt Trace."

Ye Yan replied.

[Is it Salt Trace? A pity, it is not Birdsong Lore.]

There was clear disappointment in the bookstore's voice.

Ye Yan frowned slightly: "Birdsong Lore? What is that?"

If you don't know, ask.

When it came to the occult, Ye Yan was still a novice.

[Three are Light, three are Night, three are Uncounted. The Tree of Wisdom grants scholars the right to learn the Nine Great Arts, and Birdsong Lore is one of them.]

As the bookstore explained, Ye Yan gradually understood what the Great Arts were.

The Great Arts, in fact, referred to techniques for utilizing mysterious power; unlike the skills granted by ascending the ladder, they could be mastered through study.

Scholars use the Great Arts to understand mystery, rather than merely utilizing mysterious power at a superficial level.

They are divided into three categories of techniques.

The three Light Arts are Hour Lore, Fire-Stealing Art, and Illumination Art, representing the miracles of the hidden world.

The three Night Arts are Silence Art, Night-Walking Art, and Worm Lore, representing the horrors of the hidden world.

The three Uncounted Arts are Jungle Lore, Preservation Art, and Birdsong Lore, representing the unknowns of the hidden world.

After learning of the wonders of the Great Arts, Ye Yan finally understood why the bookstore felt such regret that he had failed to learn Birdsong Lore.

It turned out that the birdsong that had led him into the dream was an application of Birdsong Lore, but unfortunately, he had failed to comprehend it.

Thinking of this, Ye Yan's brow furrowed a little tighter.

"Can I still learn Birdsong Lore?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

[Do not be discouraged, Administrator. As a chosen candidate, you possess the inherent potential to master the nine Great Arts; learning them is merely a matter of time.]

Hearing the Bookstore's reply, Ye Yan let out a sigh of relief. He had been worried that his inability to learn anything else was due to a lack of talent, and that he had only managed to grasp a relatively low-level piece of knowledge.

"So, I need to present more books related to the occult to the Bookstore, so that I can exchange knowledge for knowledge and learn more about the Great Arts from you?"

[Yes.]

"Then may I ask a question? What exactly are the Woodland and the Mansus?"

[The Woodland and the Mansus are the dwellings of the Hours.]

Hearing the Bookstore's answer, a flash of realization crossed Ye Yan's eyes; these two places were indeed related to the Hours.

Through his basic understanding of the Great Arts, he already knew of the mysterious entities known as the "Hours."

Simply put, the Hours were the gods of this world.

In that case, his transmigration might truly be related to the Hours. Otherwise, why would the Compass have undergone such a significant change after acquiring the coordinate marks for the Woodland and the Mansus?

"How do I travel to those two places?"

Ye Yan continued to ask, convinced that if he could find the Woodland and the Mansus, his path home would be smooth sailing.

[Apologies, Administrator, we cannot disclose knowledge regarding Hour Lore to you. This is something you must explore yourself, or obtain the answers from us by trading knowledge.]

The Bookstore's response left Ye Yan somewhat disappointed.

It seemed that there were no shortcuts; he would have to rely on himself to explore step by step.

He took a deep breath and straightened his back.

"Fine, one last question. The travelogue I wrote records the traces of two transcendent beings; are those two beings Hours?"

[Yes, they are manifestations of their power's influence.]

Hearing this, Ye Yan smiled.

The Bookstore's answer was undoubtedly good news.

Since the Hours could influence the place where he was, it meant that his current location was not entirely isolated from the Woodland and the Mansus where the Hours resided.

If the two were connected, he would surely find a way.

Even if there was no path, he would punch a hole through and open a door.

So, what he needed to do now was...

Ye Yan turned slowly, his gaze sweeping across the thirty rows of silent oak bookshelves.

The shelves shimmered with a faint, golden light under the candlelight, each tier empty and bare, save for the single, thin travelogue of his own lying lonely in the compartment closest to the door.

Was it truly possible for him to fill the Samsara Bookstore?

[Administrator, do not worry.]

The Bookstore's voice echoed in his mind, softer than before, like the rustling of night winds through withered leaves.

[Every story begins with a blank page.]

Ye Yan's gaze fell back upon his travelogue, the wavering in his eyes gradually hardening into something more resolute.

"Indeed," he whispered, his fingers gently brushing over his own book: "At the very least, there is a first one now."

If he couldn't find the way, he would write it himself.

The qualification to name two books would at least allow him to comprehend the Great Arts twice more.