The lights in front of the Chongbi Tower lit up little by little, the footsteps of the palace servants became more and more hurried, and low voices were heard among them. The people in the tower had already sensed that something was approaching and were worried about the dawn that would come at an unknown time.
The earth was shaking slightly, as if hundreds of beasts were about to rush out from the edge of the dark woods.
The quietest tent on the upper floor of the Chongbi Building remained silent.
The Beast-Fu Terrace, gleaming in the night, was drenched in rainwater. Built on the remains of a boxy ancient beacon tower, it had been expanded to triple its original size. It was bare of ornamentation, consisting solely of a thick layer of square stone bricks, each with a half-finger's width of gap between them to allow rainwater and animal blood to seep through without accumulating. A central brick, exceptionally square and wide, originally housed the King of Hunts' prey from the Spring Hunt, now housed a massive bronze screen.
The screen is about sixty or seventy feet high. From a hundred steps away, it looks like a city wall rising from the ground. It is covered with densely packed copper nails, each of which is hollow inside. The sound of knocking can be heard for a hundred miles.
A hunched figure slowly climbed the stairs and came to the center of the Beast-Subduing Platform.
He was an elderly ceremonial officer dressed in a white linen robe. His hair and beard were completely white, and his hands, holding the thick bamboo book, were deeply wrinkled, like a dead branch.
The drizzle wet his shoulders, but he was unaware of it. He continued walking slowly, and finally sat down tremblingly on the ground in front of the stone brick in the middle.
He hadn't meditated like this for a long time, but when he was young, they would often sit together in the hall with a hundred people, chanting sacrificial texts all night long until dawn.
As he took his seat, another equally elderly official in white climbed up the stone steps. Their eyes met briefly, then looked away, a trembling nod of greeting. The later-arriving official then sat down next to the earlier-arriving official.
A third person appeared in front of the stone steps.
Three people, four people, five people... dozens of people, several hundred people.
A procession of one hundred ceremonial officials sat on the Beast-Subduing Platform, their white clothes and white hair forming a bright glow in the night.
There was a moment of stillness between heaven and earth, and even the falling rain slowed down.
Then, soldiers armed with heavy armor and long spears poured out from the darkness at the edge of the woods like a flood, their blood-red eyes staring at the heavy-walled building behind the Beast-Subduing Platform. The sound of killing shook the sky and the murderous intent was everywhere.
The ceremonial officer sitting on the stone brick in the middle finally moved.
He seemed blind and deaf, unable to see the rapidly approaching enemy forces from all directions, nor could he hear the deafening shouts and cries of battle that shook the earth. An old hand slowly flipped open the first scroll of the bamboo book. The slender bamboo slips had turned yellow and were worm-eaten, the words on them as tiny as a fly's head.
Then, his dim eyes focused on the small words, and his mouth under the beard moved as he read.
"Secret Archive Volume 22, Section 1, Class 1. A sixty-nine-year-old female surnamed Xu from Sandao Village, Biancheng, Kunzhou, is a military household. She has no adult males and one minor. She cultivates three acres of land and owns half a tiled house. Her name is registered in Quecheng. Her household deed has been inspected for verification."
As soon as he finished speaking, the hundred ceremonial officials behind him spoke in unison, showing their years of experience in chanting sacrificial texts, and their voices were as loud as bells.
The ancient harmony was gathered by the huge bronze screen and spread forward with the Beast-Subduing Platform as the center, like waves on the lake after the wind rose, surging and sending them into the distance.
At the same time, a heavy low humming sound came from right below the Beast Subduing Platform.
Three baggage soldiers on each side tightened the gears and turned the crank arm, and the heavy stone slab under the beast-subduing platform was pushed open from the inside, revealing a stone door.
The door hinge creaked, revealing a huge and deep space behind it.
The moment the ceremonial officer stopped chanting, the first figure walked out of the door under the beast-subduing platform.
She was an old woman in a simple skirt, holding an oil lamp in her hand. Her face still showed some confusion when she heard her household registration information. She took a step hesitantly and walked towards the darkness ahead.
"Secret Archive Volume 22, Section 2, Section 3. Zhang, a seventy-three-year-old man from Qingyi Village, Zhangcheng, Minzhou, is a craftsman. He owns one adult and three minors, two tile houses, and a blacksmith shop on Tongming Street. He is registered in Quecheng. His household deeds have been inspected for verification."
As the hundred people chanted, the second person walked out from behind the stone gate of the Beast Subduing Terrace. He was an old man with a white beard and only an oil lamp in his hand. When he looked around panically, one of his eyes was white, as if he had been blind for a long time.
The endless sound of registering households echoed across the plains. Figures emerged from beneath the Beast-Subduing Terrace, thousands of them in all. Young and old, women and children, their faces etched with confusion. As they faced the beasts that threatened to descend upon them in the darkness, their figures seemed so thin and fragile.
However, it was this team with no lethality that slowed down the war slaves who were determined to fight to the death.
The murderous aura and fierceness that had sustained them left their bodies in that instant. The anxiety and violence that had been ingrained deep within their souls over a decade ago were easily dissipated and disintegrated on Yu'an's rainy night.
The names of their distant hometown and relatives all remind them of things long, long ago. In the bustling streets, under the eaves covered with bluestone tiles, in the small villages on the outskirts of the city with curling smoke, and in the fields full of heavy ears of grain, they once had such a peaceful and prosperous life.
Before tonight, they had forgotten their wandering identities, believing they would never find peace in their homeland. But as those familiar faces approached them in the darkness, the sense of belonging rooted in their blood reawakened, causing their hands gripping their weapons to tremble unconsciously.
The drizzle is like silk, and the silk forms a net, which is everywhere and penetrates every hole.
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