The Company

Chapter 72: Figured Gauze

【One】

Cai Wei thought she would live an ordinary life.

She would work in the palace for many, many years, personally witness her Lord High Minister get married, embroider the most exquisite wedding robes for him with her own hands, watch him live a happy life with children and grandchildren filling his home—that would be enough for this lifetime. She would gradually become an old matron and eventually pass away alone.

Yet even such an ordinary wish turned out to be an extravagant hope.

"Autumn Cloud Gauze is delicate and easily torn—handle it with extreme care."

"Those triple-colored brocades are precious; storing them like this is improper. They should be placed in camphorwood chests..."

"Eh? This is... the First Emperor's ceremonial robe? This one was newly made last year. The First Emperor never wore it; it's undamaged and requires no mending..."

"You plan to cut it? To resize it? But you shouldn't start from here—you should begin from the shoulders..."

Cai Wei moved through the Weaving Room as usual, until she realized that no matter how she instructed the weaver girls, no one paid her any attention. She stood in the Weaving Room, gazing around in bewilderment.

That's right—she was already dead.

Killed by the Seal and Credential Officer Zhao Gao, with a weaver girl's needle.

For some reason, she still wandered the mortal realm, unseen by anyone. But Cai Wei faintly sensed that the time left to her was likely short.

She shouldn't linger here any longer. She wondered if her Lord High Minister had received the Long Robe she sewed for him with the banner insignia, if he had worn it, and if wearing it had alleviated the bruises on his body...

Yes, she must go to the Gan residence to see her Lord High Minister one more time.

Before leaving the Weaving Room, Cai Wei couldn't help but glance back one last time.

It was midsummer, and the windows on all four sides of the Weaving Room were wide open. Sunlight streamed through, illuminating the entire room brightly, making the Light, thin silk fabrics on the racks appear exceptionally vibrant and gorgeous.

The weaver girls gathered around the head seat that originally belonged to Cai Wei, debating how to alter the First Emperor's ceremonial robe. But without Cai Wei's final decision, all the weaver girls were like headless flies—no one dared to take charge or finalize the plan.

After all, without absolute certainty, who would dare shoulder the responsibility? Cai Wei's word had been law for many years as the head of the Weaving Room, so long that everyone had grown accustomed to following her commands and completing the tasks she assigned, without thinking independently.

Cai Wei wasn't worried about them, because in such an environment, someone would always emerge to take her place and continue sitting in the first seat of the Weaving Room.

Her gaze fell upon the First Emperor's ceremonial robe.

Before killing her, Zhao Gao had said that the First Emperor had passed away. By convention, the one who should inherit the throne was the Eldest Prince Fusu.

However, Fusu was similar in height to the First Emperor. Even if the Eldest Prince ascended the throne hastily, he would only need to wear two additional undergarments beneath the ceremonial robe—no alterations would be necessary.

The only prince accompanying the First Emperor on his eastern tour was his most beloved youngest prince, Huhai. And Huhai was slightly shorter in stature, with a slender build...

At this thought, Cai Wei grew flustered and anxious, no longer concerned with the Weaving Room's affairs. She turned and left.

It couldn't be—how was it possible? The Eldest Prince Fusu was the heir to the Great Qin Empire, a fact tacitly acknowledged by the entire court many years ago.

Cai Wei walked along the corridor outside the Weaving Room, her pace gradually quickening.No, she must be overthinking it. No matter how unfilial Young Master Huhai might be, he could never harbor ambitions of usurping the throne. Yet, as Zhao Gao's determined expression flashed through her mind, Cai Wei lifted her skirts and couldn't help but break into a run. Impossible. The Chief Minister is the future Chancellor—he will lead Great Qin toward a bright future...

At first, Cai Wei remembered to avoid pedestrians as she ran along the road, but she soon realized she was moving faster than ever before, her body lighter than it had ever been, with no trace of fatigue.

After accidentally passing through a wall while failing to dodge in time, Cai Wei stared in shock and doubt at her translucent hands, once again realizing she had already departed from this world. Yes, she was dead.

In a flash of thought, she was no longer in the Xianyang Palace but had arrived at the Chief Minister's study in the Gan Residence on Shengping Lane. Just like when she had visited days ago, thick curtains hung over the windows, blocking out every sliver of light. Only the bronze goose-foot lamp in the corner cast a faint, flickering glow. By its dim light, she could vaguely make out stacks of silk documents on the desk and a shadowy figure seated behind them.

"Chief Minister..." The moment Cai Wei saw him, warmth surged from the depths of her heart, and a smile blossomed on her face. Instinctively, she lowered her head, hiding the adoration in her eyes, and bowed respectfully.

But this time, her call received no response.

Overwhelmed by loss, Cai Wei held back the stinging tears in her eyes and mustered the courage to look up. The lamp flame still danced, but the room remained utterly silent.

Cai Wei gazed silently at the figure, freely tracing his outline with her eyes.

Suddenly, the realization that she was dead and invisible to everyone brought her an inexplicable sense of relief.

She allowed herself to take two steps forward, drawing closer to her Chief Minister.

Ever since acknowledging her admiration for him and forcing herself to sever those feelings over the years, Cai Wei had always maintained a considerate distance—not too far to miss his instructions, yet not too close to make him uncomfortable. But now it was different. Since he couldn't see her, she could permit herself one final indulgence.

Cai Wei couldn't resist taking another step forward. When she finally saw the expression hidden in the darkness on her Chief Minister's face under the dim glow of the bronze lamp, she let out a soft gasp.

The handsome young man sat despondently on the bamboo mat, his eyes hollow and unfocused.

Having watched her Chief Minister grow from childhood, Cai Wei knew him better than anyone. Something shocking must have happened to leave him in such a state.

What could it be?

But no matter how she called out or pressed for answers, her Chief Minister would never respond to her again.

On the desk before the young Chief Minister, incense coiled upward from a suanni stone carving. Amid the rising smoke, Cai Wei felt her form growing increasingly faint—her time was running out.

Though the Chief Minister hadn't moved an inch, Cai Wei could still see the unmistakable purple bruises peeking out from beneath his sleeves.Cai Wei glanced around the study and noticed a neatly stacked pile of clothing in the corner—garments she had previously delivered to the Chief Minister, including the final Long Robe with banner patterns she had entrusted to a weaving maid.

As expected, the Chief Minister hadn't noticed the extraordinary qualities of this particular garment.

Cai Wei exhausted every method to capture the young Chief Minister's attention, but all efforts proved futile.

Eventually, she could only curl up over the Long Robe she had sewn, her form nearly dissipated, hoping against hope for a miracle.

She was so tired... Though she could no longer feel the pain and itch of frostbitten fingers, an profound exhaustion welled up from deep within. Was she about to fade away...?

Where would she go after departing? Would she be able to see her parents... But that posed a problem... Her parents had been gone for so long, so long that she might not recognize them even if they met...

In her dazed state, Cai Wei sensed the young Chief Minister beginning to burn the silk manuscripts on his desk—all documents he had poured his heart into writing. Cai Wei wanted to stop him, but lacked even the strength to open her eyes.

At some point, it seemed another person had entered the room, attempting to persuade the Chief Minister. The voice sounded remarkably like that of the Eldest Prince Fusu.

Impossible... Wasn't the Eldest Prince Fusu stationed at the northern frontier? Had he returned to Xianyang overnight upon hearing news of the First Emperor's passing?

So tired... If the Eldest Prince had returned, could she finally rest assured about the Chief Minister's safety? Wait... Was that Prince Ying's voice?

Why was he urging the Chief Minister to flee? And why were there sounds of the Tiger Guard?

...What? The Chief Minister needed to attend the First Emperor's funeral rites and change into mourning clothes?

Gathering her last vestiges of strength, Cai Wei opened her eyes and saw the Chief Minister removing his green robe, preparing to don mourning attire.

Indeed, she hadn't misheard—the Eldest Prince Fusu was truly present! And... the Eldest Prince seemed able to see her!

Cai Wei no longer possessed the energy to speak, nor could she ponder why the Eldest Prince Fusu could perceive her. With desperate effort, she pointed at the Long Robe beneath her.

Somehow, the Eldest Prince Fusu managed to draw the Chief Minister's attention to this Long Robe with banner patterns, which was then worn beneath the mourning garments.

Good... This was truly good.

This way, the Long Robe could continue protecting the Chief Minister in her stead... Cai Wei smiled as she watched her form dissipate into the air.

Would there be another chance... in the next life... to sew garments for the Chief Minister...?

【Two】

Cai Wei would later realize this wasn't the end of her existence, but rather the beginning of prolonged torment.

The exhaustion she had felt in the Chief Minister's study wasn't actually her soul fading away—it was someone summoning her.

That person was Zhao Gao, the Keeper of Seals.

The irony was almost laughable—the same person who had casually ended her life was now summoning her after death.

The reason, she learned, was that the new emperor had tried on the First Emperor's ceremonial robes and found them unsatisfactory, flying into a rage. With no weaver in the Weaving Room capable of taking over the task, Zhao Gao had summoned her, embedding her spirit into a Straw Effigy and confining her to the dungeons to continue working as a weaver, altering the imperial robes.

Cai Wei had considered resistance.

But Zhao Gao threatened her with the Chief Minister's safety, revealing fragments of information that confirmed the Young Prince Huhai had indeed ascended the throne, while the Eldest Prince Fusu had taken his own life at the northern frontier.Cai Wei recalled the figure of the eldest son Fusu she had seen in the minister's study. No wonder he could see her.

So, he had already passed away...

Cai Wei refused to believe that the eldest son Fusu would take his own life, and she could well imagine the dark conspiracy hidden behind the word "suicide."

She had no desire whatsoever to sew the emperor's ceremonial robes for that Qin Er Shi. But even if she disregarded the minister's safety, she knew that if she resisted, the Seal and Talisman Officer still had a hundred ways to force her compliance—and they would be even more unbearable.

Under his mocking gaze, she had no choice.

At first, the Straw Effigy body was difficult to control. Not to mention delicate tasks like needlework, even simple actions like sitting or standing took her a long time to get used to.

Fortunately, the Seal and Talisman Officer seemed busy with official duties. He only checked on her occasionally at first, but later, it was as if he had forgotten her existence altogether, not appearing for many days in a row.

Thankfully, the Straw Effigy body didn't require food or drink, or she would have starved to death.

The emperor's ceremonial robes before her no longer seemed urgent. Bored and listless, after familiarizing herself with her new body, she adjusted the measurements of the robes and even added many hidden patterns out of sheer boredom.

Cai Wei had considered escaping, but the basement imprisoning her was made of special materials, preventing her from passing through walls as she once could.

Underground, there was no cycle of sun and moon, and she lost track of time. Whether it had been a long while or just over a month, the Seal and Talisman Officer Zhao Gao finally appeared before her and tossed her a familiar Long Robe.

It was the Banner Long Robe she had sewn for over three years.

In the dim light of the dungeon, Cai Wei secretly ran her fingers over it, feeling the stitches beneath her fingertips. Confirming it wasn't the patched-together Banner Long Robe she had given to the minister, she quietly sighed in relief.

But when her fingers traced a gash torn by a blade, she froze. This Long Robe was made from the Mo Banner fabric bestowed by Emperor Shun upon Yu the Great in ancient times—a cloth renowned for its toughness. When it was originally cut, only the sharpest Yue King's Sword in the world was used.

She wondered who, with what weapon, could have pierced the Banner Long Robe. And the location of this tear... it should be around the chest or abdomen.

Connecting this with the fact that this Banner Long Robe, originally meant for the First Emperor, had been worn by Zhao Gao, Cai Wei couldn't help but scrutinize him. Unfortunately, the dungeon was too dim, and she couldn't discern anything, only confirming that his movements and posture showed no abnormality.

Zhao Gao's request was simple: mend this Banner Long Robe for him. He then produced the Weaver Girl's Needle and placed it on the table.

Cai Wei stared at the Weaver Girl's Needle, gleaming with a cold silver light, for a long time without reaching for it.

She was all too familiar with this needle—for the past three years, she had held it almost every night. Yet, it was this very needle that had taken her life.

The wound on her forehead began to throb faintly.

She felt she truly couldn't bring herself to pick up that Weaver Girl's Needle again.

Zhao Gao didn't press her. He simply stated, "I'll collect it in seven days," and turned to leave. Cai Wei gazed at the needle for a long time before finally extending her hand.

Indeed, the tool itself was blameless.

The one at fault was Zhao Gao, who had used this Weaver Girl's Needle to kill her.The tear in the ceremonial robe was quickly mended by her, and Zhao Gao returned not long after.

He had come not only to retrieve the ceremonial robe but also brought an unfinished piece of fabric, several bundles of silk thread, and a waist loom.

Was this Zhao Gao out of his mind? Asking her to sew garments was one thing, but now he expected her to weave cloth as well?

Weaving cloth was bad enough, but couldn’t he at least have provided her with the most advanced treadle loom? This waist loom, assembled from just a few wooden rods, had long been obsolete!

Zhao Gao said nothing more, leaving behind the fabric, silk thread, and waist loom before departing.

Cai Wei absolutely refused to admit that it was out of sheer boredom that she began to study how to weave with the waist loom.

The waist loom was the most ancient weaving machine. One end of the cloth beam was tied around the weaver’s waist, while the weaver sat on the ground, stretching their legs to press against the warp beam at the other end, tightening the fabric. Since the human body replaced the machine frame, the waist loom was also known as the body-tension loom.

The principle of the body-tension loom was not difficult, and the clever and dexterous Cai Wei quickly figured it out after a few attempts. However, she had to continue weaving from the previously unfinished fabric, which required a long time to study.

She had, of course, seen this type of silk fabric before—it was gauze silk.

Since the birth of silk fabrics, various types of cloth had emerged. The most fundamental distinction among these fabrics lay in their weaving techniques.

The simplest plain weave, formed by warp and weft threads interlacing alternately over and under, produced fabrics like plain silk and white silk. Fabrics with diagonal lines on the surface, created by warp and weft threads interlacing at an angle, were more complex twill weaves, such as damask and twill silk. Later, satin weaves appeared, with fewer interlacing points between warp and weft threads. Though diagonal lines formed, they were not continuous but spaced regularly and evenly to create patterns, as seen in brocade and satin.

The silk fabrics woven using these three techniques, from simple to complex, all had fixed warp threads that did not shift laterally. The weft threads passed through the warp threads, which were arranged in parallel.

Gauze silk, however, was entirely different.

In gauze silk, the warp threads were not parallel but twisted together, and the weft threads passed through these twisted warps—a technique known as leno weave.

Due to the twisting of the warp threads, both the warp and weft threads in this fabric were relatively sparse, with large, regular gaps resembling a net, hence the name "gauze silk." It was also very lightweight, making it suitable for summer clothing or curtains.

Though "light, thin silk fabrics" was often mentioned as a collective term, in terms of weaving difficulty, gauze silk was actually the most precious among them.

Traditional gauze silk used a two-warp twisting technique, woven by twisting two warp threads together. The unfinished fabric in Cai Wei’s hands, however, was a four-warp twisted gauze silk. Every four warp threads formed a group, twisted with adjacent groups, creating a complex and varied yet orderly arrangement. Even more astonishingly, this black four-warp twisted gauze silk was adorned with red silk threads—it was the legendary and most difficult fabric to weave, figured gauze!

As the chief of the Weaving Room, Cai Wei was not merely skilled in needlework. Though she was not responsible for weaving, dyeing, and other processes, she had hands-on experience in all of them. Especially with the recent establishment of the Brocade Office in the palace, she had seen the most advanced treadle looms and jacquard looms and understood their basic principles.The dungeon was truly boring. Cai Wei found some discarded wooden sticks in the corner, split them into several sewing needles, and began teaching herself how to continue weaving this piece of figured gauze.

Her initial attempts were naturally disastrous, but fortunately, these silk threads were exceptionally resilient, enduring her repeated weaving and unraveling. This reminded Cai Wei of the quality of silk used for the Banner Long Robe—extremely familiar.

Could this figured gauze possess some additional properties?

Unfortunately, she was merely a wandering soul possessing a Straw Effigy, unable to perceive more.

Zhao Gao, upon his return, resolved Cai Wei's doubts. Perhaps unafraid of any threat from the deceased Cai Wei, he spoke with rare detail.

It turned out these silk threads were indeed leftover materials from the ancient production of the Ink Banner. Sharing the same origin as the Banner Long Robe, Zhao Gao wanted her to attempt weaving the figured gauze and use it to create an upper garment to reinforce the Banner Long Robe.

Cai Wei inferred that the Seal and Tallies Minister, likely traumatized by the previous assassination attempt, was taking precautions here. However, she also stated that if he wanted her to weave the figured gauze, she would need proper looms. Moreover, the amount of silk was insufficient for an upper garment—barely enough for a dāng.

A dāng consisted of one piece covering the chest and another the back, sleeveless and skirtless—commonly known as a vest. It would just protect the chest, abdomen, and back.

Zhao Gao listened noncommittally before turning and leaving. Soon after, he sent the most advanced slant loom and jacquard loom but provided no assistants for Cai Wei.

Initially, Cai Wei immersed herself in studying how to weave the figured gauze. From selecting, soaking, twisting, and warping the silk to threading the heddles, patterning, and weaving—a series of nearly thirty steps, each requiring meticulous work. The key to weaving gauze lay in threading the heddles, where the warp threads had to be crossed and threaded through the heddle eyes—a task demanding extreme care and patience.

Fortunately, time was something she had in abundance. She felt no hunger or thirst, feared neither cold nor heat, and required no sleep. She guessed the Seal and Tallies Minister didn't assign her assistants to avoid frightening others...

Once the weaving of the figured gauze became mechanical, Cai Wei couldn't help but let her mind wander. Watching the patterns slowly form in the gauze, her gaze softened.

Luó—that was the Minister's name.

Many assumed the character meant "all-encompassing," and even the Eldest Prince, when granting him the courtesy name, had chosen "Bì Zhī" with this meaning.

But in truth, the Minister's name was given by his mother, Madame Wang. Luó referred to the world's most exquisite and intricate silk fabric.

Though the Gan family had already declined, Madame Wang cherished her son, naming him Luó and treating him as a precious treasure. Cai Wei recalled how the Minister, stroking a newly made luó garment, had mentioned this with a nostalgic look she would never forget.

How fortunate she had chosen to become a weaver—otherwise, the Minister would never have shared this with her.

She wondered... how the Minister was faring now. With the Eldest Prince Fusu framed and killed, the Minister must be heartbroken. What path would he take next?

The Seal and Tallies Minister was tight-lipped. No matter how she tried to pry, he revealed nothing about the Minister's current situation. But in a way, no news was good news.Cai Wei pondered—if she could escape someday and find the Grand Minister, she might stay by his side... This dream sustained her as she wove the Figured Gauze vest to completion.

And then…

And then she was made into a substitute by Zhao Gao, forever imprisoned within the Shadow-Proliferation Pagoda.

【Three】

Cai Wei hurried along the corridor of the Shadow-Proliferation Pagoda, unconsciously touching the verdant cloth strip on her forehead.

The wound on her brow had long ceased to ache after centuries, yet the agony and despair of being stabbed to death remained an unshakable nightmare haunting her heart.

Today was the first time someone had tended to her wounds. Even if it was just a simple act of tying a strip of cloth, it felt as though her scars had been soothed, warming her heart.

What a kind-hearted young man...

A flicker of guilt crossed Cai Wei's delicate face, but her gaze soon turned resolute.

Though she felt sorry for that innocent young man, who had taken her place trapped in the tower, there was something she desperately needed to confirm—something that had haunted her for far too long.

Perhaps even Zhao Gao was unaware of this: as his substitute, despite being a mere Straw Effigy, she shared an inexplicable, soul-deep connection with him.

Having been imprisoned in the Shadow Flourishing Pagoda for at least a millennium, her senses within the tower were faint, yet she could still vaguely perceive Zhao Gao's presence.

All these years... could that person still be alive?

Especially recently, that sensation had grown increasingly intense, as if... as if he had awoken from a long slumber...

Cai Wei longed for revenge, dreaming of it night and day.

Though uncertain how to proceed, she needed to confirm whether that devil still walked the earth.

Perhaps because she bore no sin, after running through the pagoda's corridors for a while, she felt the touch of sunlight.

It had been so long since she last saw sunlight—the scorching, blinding radiance made her instinctively shut her eyes.

"Wow! That girl's Hanfu is so beautiful! Which shop is it from?"

"Right?! That's a Qin-Han era Long Robe, isn't it? And it's not brand new—the aged look gives it such a rustic, pure beauty!"

"She's so pretty too! Is she here for a photoshoot? Why is no one taking pictures of her? Should we go talk to her?"

"Hey, look—a guy in ancient costume is walking toward her. Do they know each other?" "Probably. He just handed her a small wooden box. Oh my god, even the props are this exquisite? Is this really not a drama set?"

...

As Cai Wei adjusted to the intense sunlight, she noticed two girls in strange short skirts nearby. Their conversation was mostly incomprehensible to her, so she paid them little mind.

Because she had spotted a long-lost familiar face.

Is that... Sun Shuo? Wasn't he the attendant of Young Master Huhai? Didn't the young master kill him long ago?

How is he still alive?

Sun Shuo moved with a strange, wooden gait. She watched as he offered her a wooden box, clicking it open toward her.

Inside lay a serene black rectangular jade piece.

【Four】

At the summit of the Cloud Elephant Graveyard stood a massive stone tombstone piercing the clouds. Ying strained his neck gazing up at the impossibly tall monument, feeling awe-struck.

The tombstone was carved with dense, needle-tip-sized characters of varying depths. When Ying examined them closely, he realized they were all names of antiques.

These names likely represented the tens of thousands of artifacts buried within the Cloud Elephant Graveyard.Ying's gaze swept over these uneven names, not intending to look too carefully at first, but then his eyes suddenly widened. On this tombstone, some names of antiquities appeared significantly fainter than most, and the one Ying was staring at happened to be called "Black Tang Jun." Ying felt this was no coincidence.

Clearly, three of them had been climbing toward the mountaintop together, but now he was the only one left.

Ying had a vague premonition that the owners of these increasingly faint names on the tombstone had either left this place or remained here forever.

Among the names with the deepest strokes, he spotted Shang Jue's name. But within his line of sight, he didn't see him or the Jade Belt Pendant.

He also didn't know the name of that young man with the strange ornament on his nose bridge, who claimed to be a doctor. That doctor knew A Luo...

He really wanted to know if A Luo had become more carefree and happy now.

Without the heavy burden of assisting Fusu in governing the Qin dynasty, could A Luo finally do what he wanted? How wonderful.

Even without having read any history books, Ying didn't believe the Qin dynasty would truly last for ten thousand generations as the First Emperor wished.

However, A Luo had taken his glass bead and consistently avoided him, likely intending for him to stay in the Sky Light Market forever.

In other words, if he left the Sky Light Market and returned to the Qin dynasty, he would face danger. A Luo wanted him to remain in the Sky Light Market to ensure his survival.

Ying silently looked up at the massive tombstone before him.

Not only dynasties but all things eventually perish, and human life is especially fleeting. He would die someday.

If living this illusory existence in the Sky Light Market was A Luo's wish, he would naturally comply. But now that A Luo was in danger, he couldn't stand idly by—he was willing to pay any price.

Because back then, A Luo had pulled him out of the mud, and only A Luo had lit a lamp to guide him home. A Luo's wishes were his wishes.

As he pondered, a gentle smile appeared on Ying's handsome face.

Having reaffirmed his resolve, Ying was just contemplating how to leave the Cloud Elephant Graveyard when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

He turned to look and saw a familiar figure trudging unevenly toward the tombstone. It was the very doctor he had just been thinking about.

How fortunate—he hadn't gotten lost in the Cloud Elephant Graveyard.

When the doctor drew near, Ying greeted him with a smile, but received only a slight nod in response. Staring at this bespectacled young man, Ying couldn't quite articulate the feeling; though his appearance hadn't changed, he seemed different from before. "I encountered the Grave Keeper."

The doctor's words snapped Ying out of his thoughts, and he hurriedly asked, "There really is a Grave Keeper?" "Yes." The doctor's expression remained distant, clearly preoccupied with other matters.

"You met the Grave Keeper and still made it to the mountaintop alive?" Due to Tang Jun's frequent, neurotic embellishments, Ying had always assumed the Grave Keeper was a murderous demon. Or, more accurately, a killer of objects.

"The Grave Keeper is a young man. Not only did he show me the path to the mountaintop, but he also gave me something to take with me." The doctor unfolded his hand to reveal a black rectangular jade piece he was holding."This isn't..." Ying stared in shock as he flipped the jade piece over, confirming two characters written in cinnabar on the back—Huhai. Wasn't this the Liubo Chess piece he had thrown into the Yin-Yang Bronze Urn? "This Grave Keeper... doesn't seem like the villain Tang Jun described..."

The Doctor steadied himself, recalling the Grave Keeper's words with a sigh. "He's a pitiable soul. Someone told him that once all the names on the tombstone atop Cloud Elephant Graveyard disappear, he would reunite with the person he longs to see."

It sounded simple enough, but standing at the base of the monument now, it felt like the mythical Jingwei trying to fill the ocean—a hopeless, illusory undertaking.

The tombstone loomed like a real-world skyscraper, over a hundred stories tall, its surface crawling with countless names like swarms of ants.

Just as the Doctor had guessed, Ying rose on his toes and pointed at a fading name higher up. "Look, that's Tang Jun."

They fell silent, watching the three characters for "Black Tang Jun" gradually vanish from the tombstone, bidding farewell to their chance-met companion at the final moment.

The Doctor tried to recall Tang Jun's face, but his mind was flooded with fragmented memories—countless events and sudden recollections surging through the Longevity Lock's illusions.

It was all too chaotic. What should he believe? His memories or the illusions? "Huh?" Ying suddenly exclaimed.

Following his gaze, the Doctor saw another name slowly emerging where Tang Jun's had disappeared: Liubo Chess.

Did it refer to the chess piece in his hand? The Doctor looked down and noticed a white rectangular jade piece had appeared at their feet before the tombstone, unnoticed until now.

Identical in shape and size.

【Five】

Having resolved to rescue his master first, the Boss spent some time preparing in the inner room of Dumb Shop before heading with Tang Yuan to the courtyard where Zhao Gao had broken the barrier.

Zhao Gao would surely have imprisoned his master elsewhere, but the master might have left clues behind—it was worth investigating.

Tang Yuan was filled with regret, blaming himself for not returning sooner to check.

The Boss silently disagreed. If not for needing Tang Yuan as a guide, he wouldn't have brought the boy along at all. His junior brother was still a child, far too young to be entangled in such dangerous games. The Boss had already decided: after letting Tang Yuan inspect the courtyard for anomalies, he would send him back to Dumb Shop.

After the familiar dizziness from the Golden Towel subsided, the Boss opened his eyes to survey the desolate surroundings, then carefully examined the small cottage before them.

The hut was unremarkable—a typical red-roofed, white-walled brick house like those built by mountain farmers. Years of wear had faded the roof tiles and grayed the walls, giving it an long-abandoned appearance.

Tang Yuan had already nimbly vaulted the fence outside, darting into the house like a cannonball. Suppressing a sigh, the Boss pushed open the creaky gate and hurried after him. Outside lay the frozen depths of midwinter; inside, dust-covered farmhouse furnishings; and beyond, the small backyard...Yet it was a warm spring with lush green grass and blooming flowers. As if an invisible glass barrier hung in mid-air, the courtyard featured artificial mountains and strange rocks, small bridges and flowing water, pavilions and towers. Though modest in scale, it contained everything one could desire, revealing the master's ingenious design. Beneath the pavilion, a hot spring bubbled forth, emitting rising steam that resembled a celestial realm.

A white shadow darted from Tang Yuan's sleeve and leaped into the hot spring.

The Boss naturally saw this, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he turned away, pretending not to notice.

Tang Yuan circled the courtyard repeatedly - first running, then walking, finally shuffling until he collapsed breathlessly in the pavilion. Inside remained the stack of astrology books he hadn't finished reading, and atop a large star chart lay the shattered turtle shells from his master's last divination.

The familiar scenery lacked only the most familiar presence.

Tang Yuan pursed his lips, suppressing the rising bitterness in his heart as he hung his head in defeat. "Senior Brother, I've searched everywhere. This place remains exactly as I left it. It seems Master didn't have time to leave us any clues."

The Boss bent down, trailing his fingers through the spring water while ignoring the white blur darting beneath lotus leaves. "I wouldn't be so sure," he remarked calmly.

"Ah? Senior Brother, what have you noticed?" Tang Yuan looked up with renewed hope.

Straightening up, the Boss took out a handkerchief to dry his fingers. "Though I've never been here before, knowing our master's temperament, this boundary formation couldn't possibly be merely decorative."

"Decorative?" Tang Yuan didn't immediately grasp his meaning, gazing confusedly around the unchanged courtyard. The southernmost pavilion pillar still bore the height marks his master had carved for him, the overturned book "Song of Pacing the Heavens" remained open to the same page he'd last read...

"The temperature within this courtyard should match the outside," the Boss noted. Though he'd lost his sensitivity to temperature, he'd already retrieved an ice bottle from his qiankun bag.

Ice bottles served as ancient thermometers - water inside would freeze during cold weather and melt when warm. As recorded in "Lüshi Chunqiu": "Seeing ice in the bottle, one knows the world's cold and where fish and turtles hide." "Huainanzi" similarly stated: "Observing ice in the bottle, one knows the world's cold."

The Boss opened his palm to reveal a small bronze ice bottle. The water inside had frozen solid and remained so even within the courtyard or when placed in the hot spring.

Seeing the ice bottle, Tang Yuan's eyes widened as he realized what he'd overlooked.

Though every plant and tree in the courtyard appeared identical to when he'd left, he still stood there wearing his down jacket. The heat he felt came from running around sweating, unlike before when he'd immediately changed into shorts and t-shirt upon returning.

Tang Yuan rushed down the artificial hill and crouched by the spring, reaching toward the water surface. Icy cold stabbed through his fingers.

A white shadow swam over, coiling around his wrist.

Tang Yuan shivered from the cold - the Little White Snake might be unaffected, but he certainly wasn't...

Yet the freezing temperature cleared his mind. When he stood up again and reexamined the courtyard scene, numerous flaws became apparent.Putting aside the temperature bug, the mist over the hot spring water was also fake, its dissipating curves appearing stiff and unnatural. Though the plants in the courtyard were lush and verdant, they lacked vitality, resembling scenic paintings.

It was an indescribable feeling.

Logically speaking, if Zhao Gao had imprisoned their master, there would be no reason for him to meticulously maintain the courtyard's scenery unless he intended to lure them into a trap.

Tang Yuan gritted his teeth, silently cursing himself for impulsively rushing into the familiar cottage without first investigating. Taking a deep breath of the chilly air, he looked up at his seemingly reliable senior brother beside him.

Suppressing his regret, he asked, "What should we do now?"

"This is an illusion formation. We just need to find the Formation Eye," Boss replied calmly. Whatever Zhao Gao knew, he knew as well—after all, they shared the same master.

Boss pulled a small compass from his Qiankun bag, identified the direction, confirmed the eight trigrams' positions, and started from the courtyard entrance. He took eight steps eastward, then five steps southward...

"It seems Master taught me far less than I thought..." Tang Yuan marveled at his senior brother's dazzling series of actions.

Boss finally stopped before a cluster of Taihu rock landscaping. After a moment's observation, he bent down and picked up an inconspicuous bluish stone.

As if a switch had been flipped, the spring-filled scenery instantly vanished, leaving only desolation in its wake.

Gone were the vibrant flowers and willows—only withered branches and fallen leaves remained. Gone was the hot spring stream—only a nearly dried-up foul ditch remained. Gone were the artificial mountains—only a small mound of waste soil remained.

Tang Yuan had no time to notice the exquisite pavilion above him transforming into a collapsing tiled shed. He could only stare in shock at the figure that had suddenly appeared before him, rendered speechless.

Meanwhile, Boss tightened his grip on the bluish stone in his palm, his gaze fixed intently on the figure wearing Taoist robes.

He had mentally prepared for a complex and arduous process to see his master again. He never expected it would only require breaking an illusion formation...

Boss slowly stepped forward, approaching the dilapidated tiled shed.

The young man sitting with his back to him wore ancient crow-blue gauze Taoist robes with crossed collars and wide sleeves, trimmed with ultramarine edging. Upon closer inspection, the robe was embroidered with the eight trigrams of the Zhouyi, arranged in a mysterious pattern.

It was exactly the same attire from his memories.

The man had deep black hair that, upon closer inspection, revealed hints of dark blue. Most of it was loosely tied up, casually secured by three ivory hairpins, with the rest cascading down like smooth, lustrous silk.

It was exactly the same figure from his memories.

As Boss's footsteps drew nearer, the man turned his head. The young man possessed exceptionally handsome features—long eyebrows and fair skin reminiscent of an elegant ink wash painting. However, a ferocious dark red scar marred the space between his eyebrows, utterly ruining his countenance and evoking sighs of pity. Moreover, his eyes remained closed, clearly impaired—he was blind.

It was exactly the same face from his memories.

Boss halted his steps, as long-sealed memories came flooding back like a tidal wave."Is the sunset beautiful?" The man smiled as he asked under the sunset, his eyes bright and clear, with the magnificent Xianyang Palace towering behind him. "Do you wish to enter the palace?"

……

"Has everything been going well lately?" The man slapped a black chess piece onto the board, producing a crisp sound.

……

"'Heaven's course is constant—it does not prevail for Yao, nor does it cease for Jie.'" The man picked up a piece of fish cake and said amiably, "Take it with equanimity."

……

No, the Boss forced himself to snap out of the memory. This might be another illusion array.

"Oh? Little Tang Yuan is here?" Though trapped for days, the Daoist remained peerlessly handsome, as composed in the dilapidated tile shed as if he were in a grand hall.

"Master!" Tang Yuan couldn't help but tear up.

"Tsk, you were stubbornly refusing to call me Master before. It sounds wonderful—say it a few more times!" The Daoist curved his lips into a smile. "Master." This time, it wasn't Tang Yuan who spoke, but the Boss.

Though the Daoist's eyes remained tightly shut, he turned his face toward the voice. "Ah... you've come too..." His tone carried an indescribable complexity.

The Boss walked toward the broken tile shed, still wary. But when he saw the Little White Snake, which had been coiled around Tang Yuan's wrist, dart toward the Daoist and affectionately climb onto his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek, the Boss let go of his doubts.

People might make mistakes, but this medicinal snake, raised by the Master for many years, would never misrecognize its owner.

"Master! Do you know how many delicious foods there are down the mountain? I'll take you to try them! Xiaolongbao, Lanzhou pulled noodles, spicy crab, mala crayfish..." Tang Yuan, still overjoyed at finally finding his Master, chattered away, listing dish names while drooling.

By then, the Boss had entered the tile shed and saw a Liubo Chess board placed before his long-lost Master. On the board were several chess pieces, seemingly a game in progress.

Tang Yuan also noticed the Liubo Chess set. Recently sensitive to the term "Liubo Chess," he muttered, "This Liubo Chess looks so much like the set I lost!"

Without ceremony toward his Master, he reached out and picked up a white chess piece before finishing his sentence.

"The texture and weight feel similar too..." Tang Yuan weighed the piece, flipping it in his hand, his expression shifting.

Seeing this, the Boss also picked up a white chess piece but said, "Master, since we've found you, let's leave quickly."

Though the Daoist's eyes remained closed, he turned his face toward the Boss as if he could see and sighed deeply. "You don't understand."

"I don't understand?" the Boss asked, puzzled.

"Actually, it is I who must play this game..." the Daoist lamented with a heavy sigh. The Boss seemed to grasp something. He looked down at the chess piece in his palm and turned it over. On the back, written in cinnabar, was his name.

Gan Luo.

At that moment, the Daoist spoke slowly, his thin lips parting: "The chess game has begun."

The shabby tile shed where the three stood vanished instantly. The earth beneath their feet transformed into elegant blue bricks, the thatch overhead became carved beams and painted rafters, and the surroundings shifted into an exquisitely magnificent palace.The Boss pursed his lips tightly. He had never imagined that he would one day lay eyes upon this palace again. This... was none other than the Xianyang Palace from over two thousand years ago!

(End of Chapter)