On the eve of the storm
In the following days, Chang'an City continued to appear peaceful and prosperous. Foreign merchants in the East Market still hawked spices and gems from distant lands, the taverns in the West Market were still filled with the boisterous chatter of wandering heroes, and literati still lingered and composed poems by the Qujiang Pool.
However, in some unseen corners, undercurrents are rapidly surging.
At dawn, the Dali Temple discovered the body of the man in black and the token with the character "墨" (ink) at the entrance of the yamen. No note or clues were left behind; it seemed as if it had fallen from the sky. Di Renjie stared at the token and the body in silence for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. He summoned Li Yuanfang and Bian Que, and they discussed the matter in a secret room for a long time. Afterwards, the Dali Temple's spies became noticeably more active, especially in areas involving mechanical arts, the trade of ancient books, and abandoned manors outside the city.
Around the Wanghai Villa, several pairs of seemingly unintentional but actually vigilant eyes appeared. Pei Qinhu's Yaotian brothers, disguised as night watchmen, peddlers, or beggars, took turns monitoring the deserted garden day and night. They reported that since that night, the guards around the villa seemed to be even more stringent, and occasionally, in the dead of night, they could hear clearer and more frequent sounds of mechanisms turning from underground, as well as... a kind of indescribable, deep hum, as if something enormous was being activated.
Ming Shiyin then employed some extremely secretive channels to begin investigating the clues of the "Ink of the Night." He perused ancient documents, deduced the trajectories of stars, and even communicated with beings detached from the mundane world through certain special means. The feedback he received was fragmented and vague, but all pointed to an unsettling fact—the "Ink of the Night" did not appear out of thin air; they had been dormant for far too long, and their current activities in Chang'an must indicate a grand and earth-shattering scheme.
Under Yang Yuhuan's meticulous care, Yi Xing's health was slowly recovering. He spent most of his time recuperating in the warm pavilion, but his spirits had improved considerably. He had Gongsun Li gather all the available texts on Mohist philosophy and mechanical arts, and he immersed himself in studying them. He had a hunch that the secrets of the *Tian Yuan Ce* and the purpose of the "Ink of the Dark Night" might find clues in this ancient wisdom.
Sometimes he would deduce the moves of the chessboard, turning known clues into black and white pieces, attempting to simulate the possible action patterns of "Ink of the Night"; other times he would scribble and draw on paper, deducing the core principles of those complex mechanisms. His face remained pale, but in his calm eyes burned a flame of knowledge and the desire to solve puzzles.
"Knowledge is the lamp that pierces through the fog of history, and wisdom is the star that illuminates the lost path of the future; when facing the darkness of the unknown, the two are our inextinguishable torches."
He said this to Yang Yuhuan, who came to deliver the medicine. This statement not only explained his current state but also contained a sense of humility and determination in the face of vast knowledge and complex situations.
Yang Yuhuan gently placed the medicine bowl beside him, looked at his focused profile, and said softly, "But you must also take care of yourself. Exerting your mind like this is not good for your health."
Yi Xing raised his head, revealing a faint, helpless smile: "Sister Yu Huan, I understand. But... time seems to be running out." He looked out the window; autumn was deepening, the sky was high and the clouds were light. "I have a premonition that a storm is coming. We must find a way to deal with it before it fully erupts."
At the same time, Gongsun Li brought back some new information from the music hall.
"I heard that the envoy delegation from Wu will officially arrive in Chang'an in three days." She said while peeling an orange for Yixing. "The delegation is led by Sun Ce, the Little Conqueror, and Zhou Yu, the Commander-in-Chief. The court seems to attach great importance to this visit and has arranged a grand welcoming ceremony."
Upon hearing this, Yi Xing's hand, which was holding a chess piece, paused slightly. Zhou Yu…Sun Ce…their arrival in Chang'an at this moment—was it a coincidence, or…related to the undercurrents of the situation? He recalled the jade pendant Zhou Yu had left behind that day, and the information he had provided regarding the "Soul-Separating Grass" and clues about the mechanism. This scholar-general from Jiangdong seemed to know quite a lot.
"It seems Chang'an is about to become even more lively," Yi Xing said softly, a complex look flashing in his eyes. The arrival of the Wu delegation would undoubtedly add more variables to an already complicated situation.
In another, more secluded space—deep underground in the abandoned seaside villa.
Contrary to expectations of darkness and dampness, the place was brightly lit and surprisingly spacious. Massive stone pillars supported the dome, and the walls were inlaid with eerie crystals. The air was thick with the scents of machine oil, molten metal, and… that distinctive, chilling aura of "Soul-Separating Grass."
Dozens of figures, all dressed in black and wearing different styles of metal masks, were busily operating various strange mechanisms and instruments. In the center of the space, an enormous and complex device was slowly operating, countless gears meshing and levers interlocking, emitting a deep and powerful hum. At the core of the device seemed to be a constantly rotating, eerie blue crystal sphere radiating unstable energy fluctuations.
A tall, imposing figure dressed in black, his face covered by a metal mask engraved with grotesque demonic patterns, stood with his hands behind his back on a high platform, looking down at everything below. His eyes were cold and devoid of any emotion, as if he were looking at a work of art that had nothing to do with him.
A subordinate quickly stepped onto the platform, knelt on one knee, and respectfully reported: "Lord Mo, 'Shadow Blade' has failed... The body and token were suspected to have been taken away by Yao Tian's people, and may... have fallen into the hands of Dali Temple."
The tall, black-clad man known as "Ink Lord" was not angered, but merely let out a low, ambiguous hum. "Yao Tian... Ming Shiyin... indeed has some skill." His voice was hoarse and deep, with a metallic quality. "It's alright. The activation of the 'Gate of the Void Realm' has reached a critical point. A little interference will not affect the overall situation. Strengthen the defenses. Anyone who dares to spy again... will be killed without mercy."
"Yes!" The subordinate accepted the order, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "In addition... Sun Ce and Zhou Yu from Wu will arrive in Chang'an soon."
Beneath the mask of the Ink Lord, a cold smile seemed to curl at the corner of his mouth. "The Little Conqueror of Jiangdong and the handsome Zhou Yu... have arrived just in time. The muddier the water, the better. Perfect... let them taste the flavor of the 'new order' that I, 'Ink of the Dark Night,' have prepared for this old world."
He raised his hand, palm facing the core of the massive mechanical device below, and injected an invisible force into it. The azure crystal sphere suddenly accelerated its rotation, its light became even more dazzling, and its hum intensified, causing the entire underground space to tremble slightly.
The storm is gathering power underground, waiting for the moment it will break through the earth.
The sky over Chang'an remained clear. But those with keen senses could already feel the suffocating pressure beneath the calm. A storm was brewing.
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