Qingque bolted upright in her bed, gasping for air, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.
Daylight streamed in from outside the window, revealing the familiar room furnishings, the messy quilt, and that "slacking off" thermos and a half-eaten bag of snacks sitting on the table.
"What a... bizarre dream."
She rubbed her temples as the details of the dream receded like a tide, leaving behind only a few vivid fragments: a verdant bamboo forest, a terrifying giant sword, a grey-haired figure who shattered it with a single punch, and that lively, curious girl holding a sword.
"Fu Hua...?"
She murmured the name, feeling like it sounded somewhat familiar.
A faint, uneasy premonition stirred in her heart, as if she had inadvertently glimpsed something she shouldn't have.
She shook her head, deciding not to think about it anymore, and reached for the Jade Abacus on her bedside, intending to check the time and order some takeout to soothe her startled nerves.
Her finger slid across the screen to unlock it.
She habitually scanned the pushed news first; nothing special.
Driven by an inexplicable impulse, she typed the character "Hua" into the search box.
The page refreshed.
At the top of the list was an entry, accompanied by a rather blurry profile image showing only the tall, solemn silhouette of a back, standing before the phantoms of ten thousand arrows.
Entry Name: [Cloud Knights Marshal · Fu Hua]
Below it was a brief introduction:
"Commander of the Xianzhou Alliance, one of the early founders of the Cloud Knights. Once led the Alliance fleet to crusade against the abominations in all directions, with distinguished achievements. Her famous quote, 'The Hunt is endless until the abominations are purged,' has inspired countless soldiers of the Cloud Knights. Existing public image records are extremely scarce."
Qingque's eyes widened little by little, her mouth slightly agape without her realizing it.
She stared at the blurry silhouette, while her mind uncontrollably conjured up the calm, waveless face of the grey-haired woman from her dream, her plain, unadorned clothes, and that incredibly simple fist that had shattered the heavens and split the earth...
Qingque's fingers felt a bit cold; she took a slow breath, then slowly let it out.
No way...
Is this for real?
She cradled the Jade Abacus, looking at the figure on the screen, then looked up at everything familiar in her room.
"This dream... isn't it a bit too lingering?"
She muttered softly, tossed the Jade Abacus aside, collapsed back onto the bed, and covered her head with the quilt.
"It's a dream, yeah, it's all a dream!"
Abandoned residential district.
The afternoon sunlight seemed to become stingy here, only willing to cast a few mottled patches of light onto the broken walls and ruins.
The wind passed through damaged window lattices and empty doorways, emitting strange, wailing sounds, as if something were sobbing in a low voice.
If it were the usual Huo Huo, let alone stepping into this area, just seeing that crooked door plaque and those pitch-black windows from afar would have likely made her Tail bristle, her heart race, and she would have clung to Hanya's sleeve, absolutely refusing to take another step forward.
But today—
Huo Huo stood before the rickety vermilion gate, pushed up the large black sunglasses that covered almost half of her face, and frowned impatiently.
It wasn't that she wasn't afraid; rather, the inexplicable courage—or perhaps irritation—in her chest outweighed that habitual timidity that wanted to rear its head.
"This is the place... what a hassle."
She muttered to herself, too lazy to even scout for traps or anomalies in the surroundings—according to the mission sheet, at most there were just some low-level, weak ghosts; what could be the big deal?
She reached out and directly pushed the gate that looked like it could collapse at any moment.
The door wasn't locked, or rather, the lock had long been broken; with a creak, it slid inward, opening a gap and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Huo Huo choked and coughed twice, even more annoyed, so she simply raised her foot and kicked the door wide open with a loud "bang."
The door panel slammed against the inner wall, emitting a huge echo, and more dust fell in rustles.
The scene inside the courtyard came into view: an overgrown garden, a dried-up pond, collapsed rockeries, and the pitch-black doorway of the main hall that seemed capable of swallowing light.
Everything fit the standard configuration of a "haunted abandoned house."
But Huo Huo just narrowed her eyes; she noticed signs of the weeds in the courtyard being repeatedly trampled, and although they had been deliberately concealed, they weren't left by accidental intruders.
Moreover, there was a burnt, bitter smell in the air, mixed with a hint of medicinal scent.
(Not ghosts... is someone playing tricks?)
This thought flashed through her mind, which actually made Huo Huo breathe a sigh of relief.
Compared to unknowable, uncontrollable ghosts, living people... didn't seem that scary, right? At least living people can be reasoned with, and they can be intimidated by the Ten-Lords Commission.
She stepped into the courtyard, the dead grass under her feet making rustling sounds.
The main hall was pitch black, but she vaguely saw something move in the shadows of the corner, then quickly retract, accompanied by a metallic "ding" sound of friction.
(Someone is here, indeed.)
Huo Huo didn't hesitate and walked straight toward the main hall.
Just as she stepped over the threshold, a stronger smell of mold rushed toward her, and the light suddenly dimmed.
She adjusted for a few seconds, her gaze sweeping over the cobweb-filled and empty hall.
The tables and chairs in the center had long since rotted away, and broken tiles and unidentified debris were scattered on the floor.
Her gaze landed on a wall on the side of the hall.
A faded, damaged scroll whose original appearance was unrecognizable hung there; the color of the wall beneath the scroll seemed somewhat different from the surroundings, and... there was no dust?
Huo Huo walked up and reached out with her gloved hand, gently pressing it against that section of the wall.
The touch was slightly cool, and the material seemed denser.
She groped along the edge of the wall and soon discovered a mark in an inconspicuous carved depression on the side of the scroll.
(Disciples of Sanctus Medicus?)
This term instantly popped into Huo Huo's mind.
She had seen records related to them in the Ten-Lords Commission archives—those lunatics who believed in the "Sanctus Medicus," pursued extreme longevity, and acted in secretive and dangerous ways.
They did indeed sometimes use abandoned houses as temporary strongholds.
If it was the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus, then this wasn't a simple case of "lingering low-level ghosts."
The nature of the matter had changed; this should be under the jurisdiction of the Cloud Knights, not the Ten-Lords Commission.
But the hot, burning courage in Huo Huo's heart was still raging, and because she had discovered it wasn't a ghost, she even added a bit of recklessness, thinking it was nothing special.
Not only did she have no thought of retreating, but she also felt an urgency to get it done and call it a day.
Following the trigger methods for some simple mechanisms recorded in the archives, she tried rotating that carved depression.
"Click."
A slight sound.
The wall silently slid inward, revealing a narrow, pitch-black staircase leading downward, from which a more intense burnt, bitter smell surged out, along with the faint sounds of hushed conversation.
Huo Huo didn't even think, lifted her foot and walked down.
The stairs were made of stone and somewhat slippery, but it was nothing to her in her current state.
The passage wasn't long, and she soon reached the bottom. In front was a short corridor, and at the end was an ajar wooden door, with dim, flickering lamplight seeping through the crack; those whispers were coming from behind that door.
Huo Huo walked to the door, not even pausing or pressing her ear to listen to what was being said inside, and directly raised her foot—
"Bang!!!"
With a loud noise, the not-very-sturdy wooden door was kicked inward by her, slamming heavily against the inner wall, and the door hinges groaned in pain.
Inside the door was a small basement, lit by a few dim oil lamps.
On the walls hung some eerie diagrams depicting twisted plants and human meridians, and scattered on the floor were dried, strange medicinal herbs, some crude pharmaceutical tools, and several open pottery jars emitting a strange odor.
At this moment, four people standing around a broken wooden table in the middle were all startled by the sudden, loud noise of the door being kicked in, and they turned their heads abruptly.
The four were dressed differently, but all exuded an air of gloom.
The leader was a middle-aged man with a gaunt face and deep-set eyes, wearing a faded, old-style long gown, holding a roll of parchment covered in secret scripts.
Beside him was a burly man with a scar on his face, fiddling with a poisoned dagger in his hand.
The other two looked younger; one had a sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked appearance, and the other had shifty eyes, both wearing short outfits convenient for movement.
They were clearly plotting something, with maps and several bottles of suspicious-colored medicinal liquid spread out on the table.
At this moment, eight eyes stared in shock and suspicion at the unexpected guest at the door.
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