Lu Wenchuan heard the bell.
This time, it rang neither beside his ears nor inside the bell tower. It rang from deep within his body, traveling up his Fate Line, striking his chest, then the space between his brows.
The Bell Chamber before his eyes began to recede.
Xu Zhihan stood a few steps away. His lips moved, as though calling his name. Lu Wenchuan could not hear him; he only saw Xu Zhihan reach toward him.
The next instant, the ground beneath his feet vanished.
He stood before a long flight of snow-white steps.
At the end of the steps stood the Divine Throne.
This time, he was not a spectator.
There were lines beneath his feet, around his wrists, and across his chest. They pulled toward him from every direction, carrying many names and many voices.
Xu Chengyuan.
Zhao Huaide.
Gu Huai.
Madam Gu.
Zhou Man.
Xie Wu.
And Ji Heng.
Each name lingered on him for an instant before an even colder force pressed it into his Fate Line.
Lu Wenchuan glanced down.
The old wound on his wrist split open. Blood dripped onto the snow-white steps without spreading.
Above the steps, someone spoke.
"The Anchor shall enter judgment."
The voice was cold and emotionless.
Lu Wenchuan looked up.
The Divine Throne was empty.
Yet the voice continued.
"The Sin Lines are tangled and numerous. The Anchor may bear them in their stead."
Lu Wenchuan gave a small laugh.
"Did you ask me?"
No one answered.
The lines around him began to tighten.
Inside the bell tower, Xu Zhihan caught Lu Wenchuan's wrist and felt icy cold.
Lu Wenchuan remained standing, but his eyes had lost focus, layers of snowy light churning in his pupils. Song Zhixia's urgent voice came over the comms.
"He's been pulled into