Linyue scoured the shelves for anything remotely related to arrays. "Secret Formations and Cooking Recipes"? Sure. "Twelve Arrays That Definitely Work (Probably)"? Why not. "Array Design by a Sleep-Deprived Monk"? Excellent.
If it had the word "array" or hinted about it, she took it. She ended up with a towering stack taller than her. Any higher and it would've needed structural support. With great effort, she waddled over to a quiet corner, plopped onto the floor, and set the mountain of books down beside her with a soft thud. Then she picked up the first scroll, pulled up her sleeves, and began to read. This time, there would be no explosions. Hopefully.
Linyue was deep in the scrolls and books. Lost. Drowning. Possibly fusing with the floor. She had no idea how much time had passed. Hours? Days? Weeks? Probably not a week. Surely Shen Zhenyu would've shown up and dragged her out if it had been that long. Right?
She was confident. Kind of. Maybe.
The scroll she was holding claimed an array could make bland porridge taste like braised pork belly. Scam, clearly. Another promised to reverse baldness. With arrays. Scam number two. She flipped through yet another one that mentioned using arrays to make someone fall in love with you in ten steps or less. That one she hid quickly. Just in case someone walked by. Like Shu Mingye. Or her pride. Still, she kept reading. Because even if it was 90% nonsense, there was always that 10% that might not be.
Then someone cleared their throat right in front of her. She blinked and looked up slowly. The old librarian was standing there like a silent ghost, possibly waiting for the perfect moment to scare her soul out of her body. How long had he been there?
He cleared his throat again. "...Madam. The Lord said you may take the books to your chamber instead of reading them here."
Linyue frowned. Madam? Again? Since when?!
She hadn't agreed to anything yet! She had kissed no documents. No ceremonies were held. No vows were spoken. Not even a verbal "yes, fine, maybe someday, I guess." And yet here she was, being madam-ed like someone's official wife. Of course, it had to be Shu Mingye. This was his palace. His library. His suspicious spy network probably watched everything from the shadows, including how many hours she had fused with the floors.
She let out a long sigh, then smiled politely. "How many books can I bring along?"
The old librarian didn't even hesitate. "Madam may take as many as she wants."
Her smile widened. "Then I'll take everything related to arrays."
The librarian blinked. "Everything?"
"Yes," she said cheerfully. "Everything."
He looked mildly alarmed but bowed anyway. "Understood. I'll prepare them and have them delivered to your chamber immediately."
"Really?" Linyue asked, a little surprised.
"Of course, Madam," the old librarian replied gravely. "That's my job."
"Then thank you. I've troubled you," Linyue said politely, offering a small smile.
"Not at all, not at all, Madam," the old librarian replied, bowing. "It is my honor to serve you."
And with that, he hurried off. Probably to rally a team of unfortunate assistants to haul an entire section of the library to her chamber.
Linyue watched him go, still slightly stunned. This "Madam" thing, maybe it wasn't all bad. Maybe the "madam" title was a little annoying, but if it came with unlimited free library access? She could live with it.
But… was it really free? She suddenly remembered the palace wall she had nearly destroyed last time. She hadn't paid for the repair fee. Shu Mingye hadn't said anything either. Was that silence a warning? Or was the repair fee part of her future dowry?
Wait—dowry?!
She slapped her own forehead. No, no. Forget that. Erase it. Bury it. Throw that thought into the sea.
She hadn't agreed to anything. Not yet. Definitely not. She shook her head hard, trying to shake out the idea out of her head, and made her way back to her chamber.
It was already noon. The sun was warm, the hallways were quiet, and her brain was full of too many scrolls and too much confusion. When she reached her chamber, she shut the door behind her, sighed deeply, and flopped face-first onto the bed.
Now all she had to do was wait for the book delivery service to arrive. Which was honestly… kind of amazing. Reading rare scrolls and old, dusty books in bed like a lazy turtle? Yes. This was her life now. And she wasn't mad about it. She lay there for a while, fully embracing her new identity as a reclusive, scholarly turtle. Until—Knock knock.
She sprang off the bed and rushed to open the door.
Outside stood three people—or more accurately, three pairs of legs barely visible beneath towering stacks of scrolls and books on trays, the piles were so high she couldn't see their faces. Then a head peeked out from behind one of the wobbling towers.
It was the old librarian again.
"Madam… this is all the material you requested," he said with great dignity.
Linyue immediately stepped aside. "Come in, come in. Careful, don't topple."
They marched in like a tiny book army and carefully placed everything on the table. She watched them work with growing guilt. The old librarian looked like he had aged five more years just from carrying that one tray. Should she have limited her request to ten books instead of fifty? …Nah. Too late now.
When everything was finally stacked neatly on the table, Linyue gave them a small bow and thanked them sincerely.
They returned the bow (twice, just to be extra polite) and quietly retreated, probably to ice their shoulders.
Linyue turned to face the towering pile. Actually, it looked a bit smaller than she had imagined. And based on her last scroll-reading experience, at least half of these were probably scams. Still, she wasn't about to complain. She grabbed a handful of books, and tiptoed back to the bed.
And so began another intense reading session.
She read. And read. And kept reading. Before, she had been glued to the floor. Now, she was completely stuck to the bed. Scrolls and books began to form a small second mountain beside her—an ever-growing pile of "already read" nonsense, scribbles, and occasional useful things.
It was peaceful, cozy, and probably a little tragic. But she was committed. She tossed another book onto the growing "read and probably useless" pile with a soft thump, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
She had gathered some useful information.
Arrays, apparently, were magical diagrams or symbols that could absorb, redirect, or even amplify spiritual energy. With the right array, a fire cultivator could shoot out water blasts or make wind tornadoes, even if they had zero water or wind talent to begin with. Cheating, basically.
If the core of an array was broken, the whole thing would collapse. You could also break an array by overloading its core with spiritual energy, though that came with the risk of blowing something up. And arrays could be rewritten if you were bold enough and had a stronger array to slap on top of it.
The most important part? Spiritual sense.
High-level cultivators could use their spiritual energy to detect arrays by sensing the flow of energy around them. But if your strength was too low and tried to scan a high-level array, it could slap back. Hard. With side effects like nosebleeds, fainting, or dramatic flops. In short: dangerous.
Linyue stared at the scrolls for a moment. "Well," she mumbled to herself, "at least I won't die from boredom."
And with that, she sat up, crossed her legs, placed her hands on her knees and closed her eyes. Time to meditate. Which was something she hadn't done in years. Possibly centuries, if you asked her knees.