Master Cai struggled to sit up, groped beside her, and pulled out a strangely textured token, tossing it casually to Mo Bai.
The Celestial Guide.
"Alright, let's go."
"Zzz… hhh…"
Soft snores continued for about ten breaths after the two vanished into the emerald gate.
Then they stopped.
A rustle came from the plush pile. Master Cai sat up, fully awake. She tossed the rabbit doll aside and spoke toward the ink-wash screen in the corner of the quiet chamber, annoyance in her tone.
"Alright, quit hiding. Your disciple already left with the Celestial Guide. Come out. An old man like you, eavesdropping."
The air beside the screen rippled with faint, almost imperceptible dark waves.
A figure stepped out from the ripples. Clad in deep indigo robes with a moon-white outer gown, three strands of long beard hung from his chin — Zhou Xun, Grand Master of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion.
"Miao, when have I ever hidden?" Zhou Xun walked to the low tea table and sat down, picking up a small teapot painted with a chubby cat. His movements remained calm and composed. He lifted his gaze, warmth mixed with inquiry in his eyes. "That line about 'sticky gum'… you sensed something, didn't you?"
"Sensed? I sense you old stick-in-the-mud are getting more and more dishonest!" Master Cai pouted, crawled over and sat cross-legged. Yet her dark eyes flicked over his face. "...Your injuries… better?"
"It's nothing." Zhou Xun brushed it off lightly, slowing the brush in his hand. Suddenly his expression turned solemn, and he bowed deeply to her. "On the day of the main hall, thank you for stepping in. This bow is for saving my disciple's life."
Master Cai waved a small hand. "Cut the formalities. Luckily we still have our old understanding. I understood your look back there — otherwise your disciple would've truly drowned in his own consciousness sea."
"But I noticed his consciousness sea cracked strangely, and healed even more bizarrely. Damage of that degree can't be fixed by ordinary means. Yet he not only healed himself… his memory power increased. This is no ordinary recovery."
Her dark eyes fixed on Zhou Xun, all playfulness gone.
"Old Zhou, let's speak plainly. That boy's injuries were no accident. It was more like… he forcibly glimpsed a 'truth' he wasn't meant to see. Am I right?"
Zhou Xun fell silent for a moment, the brush in his hand stilling. He did not deny it, only spoke slowly.
"This boy's fate is extraordinary. Knowing certain things too early will only harm him. My secret protection, your healing, Starlaine's pure guidance — all three were indispensable for his recovery today. As for the third force that ultimately sealed his wounds… beyond you and me…"
Cai Miao threw aside a star-patterned pillow, frustration and hidden worry crossing her small face. "Old Zhou, that power is on a terrifyingly high level. Whether it's a blessing or a curse that it chose your disciple remains to be seen. You told him to find you — how much do you plan to tell him?"
"He will know when the time comes." Zhou Xun's voice was steady, yet carried a faint, unspoken weight. "The era is changing, and undercurrents have risen. As the current Wanderer of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion, he cannot avoid certain responsibilities."
"It's a pity for that silly girl Starlaine… her talent is indeed ordinary, but her character… sigh. I've passed on the foundations of the Glazed Purification Mantra and Universal Radiant Light — that's my limit. Her path from here depends entirely on her own luck. I entrusted her to Mo Bai… I don't even know if it was right…"
Master Cai yawned and shrank back into the plush pile.
"Her heart is simple, her spirit clear. In this chaotic age, she may be a healing balm." Zhou Xun spoke softly. "Letting them travel together and support each other may not be a bad thing."
"Fine! You go back to sleep. I should go meet my good disciple!"
Zhou Xun said no more and stood up. His gaze drifted toward the direction Mo Bai had left, then his figure flashed and vanished into dark ripples.
Inside the Universal Pivot Hall.
Starlaine suddenly stopped.
"Oh no! The Mirror God is summoning me for devotion again. I don't know why, but the summons have been frequent lately. Brother Mo… please be careful."
A strange uneasiness weighed on her heart, so she whispered the warning.
"Alright."
No sooner had Mo Bai spoken than the warm emerald token in his hand trembled slightly.
The moment he stepped through the Hall of Spiritual Healing's gate, the Celestial Guide stirred again.
The star-like glow inside the dark token blazed bright. The tai chi pattern on its surface rotated slowly, projecting a line of dark words:
Meet at the Star-Viewing Platform, deep within the Celestial Mechanism.
Mo Bai stepped forward at once.
Crossing the gate felt like stepping from the noisy world into an eternal starry sky.
Beneath his feet lay cold, smooth black jade, stretching into darkness. The surroundings were not pitch-black, but like a clear night without moon: silver starlight flickered above, around, and even beneath him, forming a vast, silent star map.
The only light came from ahead — a round platform hanging alone in the void. Paved with black-and-white stone, it formed a giant tai chi pattern. At its edge stood several ancient bronze star instruments, their tracks inlaid with gems reflecting starlight.
This was the Star-Viewing Platform.
A figure stood with his back to Mo Bai, right on the dividing line of the yin-yang fish at the center of the tai chi. His moon-white robe stirred gently in invisible star currents. In his hand, the Judgment of Life and Death Brush hung low, as if composing celestial fate upon the starry canvas.
Zhou Xun did not turn. His calm voice echoed softly through the starry space.
"You have come."
"Master."
Mo Bai halted several steps away and bowed.
"Sit."
Zhou Xun still did not turn.
Mo Bai obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the black jade. The stone was cold, seeping through his robes, yet it quickly calmed his tangled thoughts since entering the pavilion.
He looked up, ready to speak.
"Shh."
Zhou Xun raised a hand, a finger lightly pressed to his lips. A simple gesture, yet carrying unquestionable authority.
Mo Bai's throat tightened; all words were silenced by an invisible force.
In the next moment, Zhou Xun's eyes darkened, turning into two abyssal pools swallowing all light. He held his fingers like a brush, drawing a slow, heavy pattern in the void before him.
No light. No sound.
Yet Mo Bai saw invisible but real ink marks take shape in the air.
It was a complex, profound rune: concentric circles layered with logical locks and seal patterns, at its center an ancient symbol — Pact.
The final stroke fell. The rune trembled.
Deep within Mo Bai's consciousness sea, his second turbid Memory Core Crystal blazed brilliantly. A gentle, vast will of connection surged forth on its own.
At the same time, the core of the "Pact" rune in Zhou Xun's eyes glowed faintly.
In an instant —
Mo Bai's consciousness was gently, irresistibly tugged free of his physical body, falling into a realm he had never known.
A boundless, slowly flowing Ink Heart Lake.
Its surface was smooth as a mirror, reflecting an even more ancient, vast Ink Heart Lake. Mo Bai stood at the center of his own lake and understood in a flash:
this was the Pact of the Shifting Heart, the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion's secret art guarding its highest mysteries — a direct connection of consciousness seas, a resonance of hearts, utterly secure and shielded from all prying eyes.
At the center of the opposite lake, Zhou Xun's will form slowly condensed, surrounded by deep ink and wise starlight.
"This place is safe. I know all your questions. The answers are too important to be spoken outside. Listen quietly."
Zhou Xun's will spoke directly, calm and clear.
Mo Bai sent his will in reply: "This disciple listens."
Zhou Xun spoke no more. He raised a hand and gently gestured toward his vast heart lake.
In an instant, the lake erupted in waves.
Countless specks of light blazed up, rose, and wove together in the void, forming flowing scrolls of memory — epic, tragic, and grand — drifting slowly toward Mo Bai's heart lake, accompanied by Zhou Xun's solemn, willed narration:
"The root of your doubt lies in a war over memory, truth, and the right to define the world —
The Glorious Holy War."