Six months passed like a slow-moving river.
In the world outside the black ironwood walls of the Pavilion, the Blue Cloud Sect was in turmoil. The conflict with the Cloud-Devouring Sect had escalated into a series of border skirmishes. Disciple recruitment had doubled, the air was thick with the scent of medicinal furnaces working overtime, and the "Geniuses" were being polished like blades for a war that felt inevitable.
Inside the library, Han Zhao was perfecting the art of being a ghost.
The 'Nameless Longevity Script' had changed him. His presence was now so thin that even the silverfish didn't bother to scurry away when he walked by. He sat at his desk on the first floor, his breathing so slow and rhythmic that his heart only beat once every two minutes.
[Current Life Expectancy: 82 Years, 214 Days.]
[Progress: 'Nameless Longevity Script' - Level 2 (Shaded Soul).]
His cultivation had quietly reached the Peak of Qi Condensation. In any other circumstance, this would have triggered a "Heavenly Omen" or at least a visible change in his physique. But Han Zhao's Qi didn't glow. It didn't roar. It gathered in his shadow, a cold, dark reservoir of power that nobody—not even the Sect Leader—could sense.
"Librarian?"
The voice was hesitant. Han Zhao looked up, slowly "thickening" his presence just enough to be noticed.
Standing there was a young boy, barely twelve years old, wearing the grey robes of a new initiate. He looked terrified.
"Yes, little brother?" Han Zhao asked, his voice sounding like dry leaves rustling.
"I... I was told to find the 'Basic Heart-Calming Sutra'. My Master says my mind is too chaotic."
Han Zhao looked at the boy. He saw himself—or rather, the version of himself that usually died in the first ten chapters of a novel. "Aisle four, bottom shelf. It's covered in blue silk. Read it twice, but don't try to memorize the third paragraph—it's a translation error that causes headaches."
"Thank you, Senior!" The boy bowed and scurried away.
Han Zhao watched him go, then returned to his own "study." He was currently comparing three different maps of the Azure Province.
[Task: Route Optimization for 'Emergency Escape'.]
[Analysis: 94% of sect exits are monitored by Grade-3 Formations.]
[Discovery: The library's sewage drainage system bypasses the main mountain array.]
"I should probably learn a Water-Breathing technique," Han Zhao muttered. "Just in case."
His peaceful planning was interrupted by the sound of heavy, frantic footsteps. This wasn't the rhythmic walk of a guard or the arrogant stride of a disciple. This was someone running for their life.
Not again, Han Zhao thought. I really need to put a 'No Drama' sign on the door.
The doors burst open. It was Su Lian.
But it wasn't the Su Lian from six months ago. Her Core Disciple robes were shredded, her silver hair was matted with grime, and her eyes were wide with a frantic, wild energy. She didn't look for a corner this time. She ran straight to Han Zhao's desk and slammed a bloody jade box onto his ledgers.
"Hide it," she gasped.
Han Zhao didn't touch the box. He didn't even look at it. He just kept his hands under the desk, clutching a small "Safety Talisman" he'd optimized to explode into a thick smoke screen.
"Senior Sister Su, I am a simple record-keeper. I don't hide boxes. I hide from responsibility."
"Han Zhao, listen to me!" She grabbed his collar, her fingers trembling. "The Sect Leader... he's not trying to win the war. He's trying to trigger a 'Blood Sacrifice' to break through to the Soul Transformation stage. He needs the Core of the Azure Dragon inside this box to stabilize the ritual. If he gets it, everyone in the Blue Cloud Sect becomes fuel."
[System Scan Initiated...]
[Object: The Azure Dragon Core.]
[Status: Highly Volatile. Contains enough energy to level a mountain.]
[Danger Level: Catastrophic.]
Han Zhao stared at the box. This wasn't just "trouble." This was the end of his quiet life. If the Sect Leader succeeded, Han Zhao would be a very well-hidden pile of ash.
"Why me?" Han Zhao asked, his voice dropping an octave.
"Because," Su Lian whispered, a strange, hysterical laugh bubbling in her throat. "I've spent three days running from the finest trackers in the province. And every time I thought of someone I could trust, I realized they were already dead or compromised. Then I remembered the 'Cobweb.' I realized... I couldn't even remember what your face looked like until I stood in front of this door."
She shoved the box toward him.
"You're the only thing in this sect that doesn't exist. Hide it in the one place they'll never look."
"And where is that?"
"In plain sight," she said, before collapsing onto the floor, her energy finally spent.
A second later, the sky outside the library turned a bruised, sickly purple. A massive spiritual pressure descended, heavy enough to crack the stone tiles of the Pavilion.
[Warning: Nascent Soul Detection Pulse incoming.]
[Time to impact: 5 seconds.]
Han Zhao didn't panic. His mind, polished by six months of 'Social Invisibility', worked with the cold efficiency of a computer.
He didn't put the box in a secret compartment. He didn't bury it in the basement.
He grabbed a jar of thick, black "Archival Ink" and poured it over the jade box. Then, he grabbed a stack of mundane Tax Records of the Iron-Ore Mines (Year 142). He shoved the box into the middle of the stack, binding it with cheap twine and slapping a "PENDING AUDIT: BORING" label on the front.
He placed the stack on his desk, right next to his half-eaten bowl of cold noodles.
[Activating 'Nameless Longevity Script' - Full Suppression.]
[Effect: The room is now 'Background Noise'.]
The doors vanished. Not literally, but the spiritual pulse that swept through the building simply "ignored" the first floor. To the Sect Leader's divine sense, the library's first floor was just a collection of rotting wood and one insignificant, boring human.
The pressure lingered for a heart-stopping minute, then moved on toward the Upper Peaks.
Han Zhao exhaled. His shadow, which had grown jagged and sharp during the pulse, smoothed back into a soft blur.
He looked at Su Lian's unconscious body, then at the "Tax Records" box.
"I really hate geniuses," Han Zhao sighed.
He picked up his broom. He had to clean the ink spill before it stained the floor permanently. As he swept, he checked his status.
[Current Life Expectancy: 82 Years, 215 Days.]
[New Quest: Survival of the Sacrifice.]
[Reward for Completion: 10 Years of Longevity.]
Han Zhao paused. Ten years? The reward was too tempting.
"Well," he muttered, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes for the first time. "I suppose for ten years of peace, I can play the part of a 'hero'... just as long as no one ever finds out it was me."
He went back to sweeping, a ghost in a dying sect, holding the heart of a dragon next to his noodles.