She focused, trying to feel the spiritual energy around her. The soft current in the air. The invisible hum.
At first… nothing. Then…
…her nose itched.
She scratched it. Refocused.
Still nothing. But she was Linyue, the determined, the logical, the future master of bed-based spiritual science. She wasn't giving up.
After what felt like hours of sitting cross-legged like a very patient but deeply miserable turtle, Linyue finally let out a long sigh and opened her eyes.
Nothing. Still nothing. The books had promised vibrations. Ripples. Magical pulses. She was supposed to feel the energy of the array. But all she felt was disappointment. Was it another scam? Some elaborate joke written by bored cultivators with too much time and too little compassion?
The scrolls said only high-level cultivators could do it. She was pretty sure she counted as one. She turned to glance at the corner of her chamber where she had stashed some paper arrays and jade pendants from their recent adventure. They were real arrays. She knew how they worked. She had used them. And yet, when she tried to sense them, she felt absolutely nothing. Not even a polite spiritual nudge.
Linyue sighed again and flopped backward onto her bed like a defeated turtle.
Had she done it wrong? Normally, she could sense the spiritual energy of other cultivators when they used it. She could even tell their cultivation stage without much effort. So why couldn't she feel anything from the arrays? Maybe arrays hated her. She stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting between irritation and existential crisis. Then, very slowly, an unwelcome thought crept in.
Wait… what if she really had done it wrong?
Her eyes narrowed. That was unacceptable. She shot up and immediately folded her legs again. This time, she wasn't going to sit there like a rock waiting for enlightenment to knock politely. She took a deep breath, focused, and began to push her spiritual energy outward like a fog. A soft, steady mist spreading in all directions. And then, once the energy was everywhere, she swept her spiritual sense across it. And that was when she felt it.
Thump.
A soft ripple. A faint pulse in the air. In the corner of the room. Exactly where she left the stash of arrays. Her eyes flew open.
"It worked," she whispered, her voice full of triumph. She almost wanted to do a victory lap around the room, but that would ruin the image of calm mastery she liked to maintain.
Still, the pride lasted only a few heartbeats before logic returned.
If she had to use that much spiritual energy just to sense one dusty stack of arrays, that was… terribly inefficient. Like burning down a whole forest just to catch a squirrel. A very small, probably ungrateful squirrel. There had to be an easier way. Probably in one of those scammy scrolls. But that was a problem for future Linyue. Right now?
She reached for the next book beside her, flopped back into her favorite turtle-reading position, and kept reading. Still glued to the bed. Still unstoppable.
After a long time sweeping the books and scrolls, more than half pile from the table had been moved to the floor beside her bed. She tossed another one onto the growing stack with a sigh and reached for the next.
This one was really old and dusty. The cover was so faded she couldn't even make out the title. Dust clung to her fingers as she flipped it open, careful not to rip the fragile pages. Some of them were missing. The ones that remained were smudged and nearly impossible to read. She tried to read the still visible part. It was mostly about core of arrays. She scanned the book quickly for useful information. Then her eyes caught on a line.
Cultivator's body.
So it was true. A cultivator's body could act as an anchor or core of an array. Not just that, but apparently the stronger the cultivator, the stronger the array it could sustain. Her eyes darted down the page, eager for more, but the rest of the text was too smudged to read. She let out a long sigh. Of course, just when she finally stumbled on something worth knowing. This was exactly what she had been wondering about. That masked man was an array expert. She had suspected for some time that he might have done something to her body. Something she had not yet discovered.
She sat up again, the thought refusing to let her go. Maybe… maybe she could use her spiritual sense to check?
Doubt crept in almost immediately. If he had really set up a high-level array, probing it carelessly could be dangerous. But there was only one way to know for sure, and curiosity was clearly stronger than reason tonight. So she took a slow breath, steadied her mind, and slipped back into meditation.
*****
Shu Mingye sat at his desk, buried under a mountain of scrolls and reports. His elegant black robe had a crease down the middle, a tragic sign of how long he had been glued to the chair. He picked up another scroll and stamped it. Another report done. Another headache born.
Still, things were improving. The plants Linyue had given him actually worked. The sick had started to recover. The palace physicians had made more of the medicine and sent it out. Reports of coughing and dying had slowed down. Even the demons outside the walls had quieted down. A few ambushes, nothing too dramatic. His men handled it.
Shu Mingye leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He still couldn't stop thinking about what Linyue said.
Tainted.
She had guessed the plants were tainted, and they had used that as a clue. But if the plants were tainted, what about the demons? What did that word even mean? Were they infected? Cursed? Possessed by some ancient spiritual mold? And what made something tainted in the first place?
He frowned. He had too many questions and only one person who might have answers.
Linyue.
But Linyue… didn't trust him. Not completely. She still kept her secrets wrapped up tightly. Neatly folded and completely untouchable. He wanted her to lean on him, to rely on him. But every time she opened up even a little, she pulled back again. Like a cautious turtle. A very cold, secretive turtle.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "When will she tell me?"
She had been in her chamber for three days now. Not suspicious at all. According to the librarian, she had asked for books. About arrays, of all things. Odd. But at least it sounded harmless enough. Reading quietly. Alone. Probably. At least she hadn't snuck out of the palace, blown up a wall, or started another underground mission. Yet.
Her companions were also behaving for once. He Yuying hadn't started any fires. Song Meiyu was too busy gossiping with the kitchen maids to plot anything. Shen Zhenyu was brooding in the training ground. Probably meditating. Probably napping.
Progress.
Maybe he should check on Linyue just in case. To make sure she wasn't secretly inventing a new kind of chaos behind those doors. And maybe to see her face.
For reasons. Professional reasons. Strictly professional. Really.
*****
Linyue had spent a few more hours training her spiritual sense. Though, to be fair, calling it training was generous. To anyone passing by, it probably looked like she was just taking a very intense nap. But progress was progress. She could now control her spiritual energy better and even send it out in a straight line. Or as she liked to imagine it, like fishing line. For… spiritual fish. Very serious, highly advanced stuff.
This time, she decided to be bold. Ambitious. Slightly reckless, but in a respectable, scholarly way. She was going to sense herself. A full internal inspection.
With sharp focus, she released her spiritual energy and shaped it into a thin, steady thread. Slowly and carefully, she sent it inward, guiding it along her meridians. And then she felt it almost immediately. A faint pulse. Subtle, but definitely there. Like something quietly ticking away deep inside her spiritual path. There really was an array or even arrays inside her.
Her back straightened as realization sank in. She had expected this possibility, but the confirmation still sent a cold shiver down her spine. When had it been placed? Who could have done it?
Naturally, she tried to investigate more. Curiosity and caution rarely got along in her mind, and curiosity usually won. She sent the thread of spiritual energy deeper, tracing the faint, intricate lines that pulsed just beyond reach. But just as she reached the edges of it—
Pain.
Sharp, shocking pain jolted up her spine like someone had zapped her with a lightning bolt made of needles. Her body trembled. She gritted her teeth and steadied herself.
"It's fine," she muttered to no one. "This is fine."
It was not fine. But logic had left the room a while ago, replaced by stubbornness. So she tried again. Braver. Dumber.
This time, the backlash slammed into her even harder. Her heart twisted violently, like an invisible hand had grabbed it and decided to squeeze. She gasped, eyes flying open.
"Cough—"
Warm, metallic taste filled her mouth. She pressed a hand over it, but it still spilled through her fingers, dark and sticky. The world tilted sideways. Her vision blurred. And then, as if things weren't dramatic enough, something wet slid down her cheeks.
Tears? She wiped them quickly with her sleeve. No. Not tears.
Blood.
"…Not fine," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Not even close.
She sat there, trembling, tasting iron and regret. So the array wasn't just strong. It was hostile, vicious, and dangerous enough to make her body betray her in seconds. What kind of array caused blood vomiting and spontaneous eye bleeding at the same time?
She leaned back against the bedpost, trying to breathe normally again. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "Let's not do that again."
At least not without snacks nearby. Or a written will.
She stared at the bloodstained mess she had created.
Her white robes? Ruined.
Her bed sheet? Ruined.
Her pride? Missing in action.
She groaned softly and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Great. Now she had to clean the bed, scrub herself, change her clothes, and probably re-evaluate her life choices again. She was just about to drag herself off the bed when—
BANG.
The door flew open.
Linyue froze mid-motion, a guilty hand still hovering over a very obvious bloodstain.
"…This looks bad," she muttered under her breath, already knowing exactly who was standing at the door.