Midnight · Lanterns Beneath Burial Immortals Ridge
Three strikes of the night watchman's clapper echoed beyond the town walls. Moonlight etched the jagged silhouette of Burial Immortals Ridge against the starless sky.
Lin Tianfang paused before a clay-walled cottage at the village's eastern edge, where murky oil-lamp light bled through papered windows. Three measured raps on the door. With a groan of weary timber, the plank door cracked open, revealing a face carved by time—an old woman's eyes, clouded like dust-filmed glass beads, yet unerringly fixed upon him:
"Fear not, young sir... the Immortal Tombs keep evil at bay 'round these parts. No wicked soul dares tread here."
Night Whispers at the Loom
Inside, the scent of cold hearth ash tangled with dried straw. On a pallet bed, the girl Xiaotong slept curled like a fern frond. The blind woman shuffled back to her groaning loom, gnarled fingers dancing among hemp threads:
"Daylight's too clamorous... Nights let me weave half a bolt more. Come spring, it'll buy Xiaotong's place at the town school..."
Lin Tianfang's gaze brushed her sightless pupils: "What tales linger about the mountain graves, elder?"
The shuttle's rhythmic clack ceased. Hemp fibers drew taut.
"Old bones' tales, those." Her throat bobbed. "Old Li of the west fields kept watch in his youth—saw stars rain fire upon the tombs! Earth-dragons heaved for three days and nights... After, he'd rave of 'stone tablets gulping moonlight.'"She leaned forward, voice dropping to a rasp: "Strangest of all—no fox has haunted Burial Ridge since that night!"
Thwick!The shuttle spike stabbed her thumb. A crimson bloom spread on the hemp cloth.
"Forgive these clumsy old hands, sir..."She pressed her sleeve to the wound.
Lin Tianfang's index finger curled unseen within his sleeve. The gash sealed into a rust-colored stain: "A tale worth the night. But darkness wanes."
Hour of the Tiger · The Aeon-Drinker's Thirst
On the broken cot in the inner room, Lin Tianfang cast his divine sense over the ridge.
—Twenty-three cultivator auras drifted like corpse-lights. Five reeked of blighted demonic qi. The ghost of a smile touched his lips. Ten thousand years had schooled him in spectator's patience.
Before the Hour of the Tiger faded, fire ignited in his throat.
"Even you, old shell-back, couldn't outlast time..." His thumb grazed the empty gourd at his waist. Where his shadow dissolved, five copper coins pinned a slip of rice paper to the loom:
"New eyes born, shun harsh light. Coins for Xiaotong's schooling."
Dawn · Sight's First Tears
"Granny's awake? Xiaotong fetches water—"
The girl scrambled from bed, only to be caught by a skeletal hand.
The old woman's fingers trembled like frost-stricken leaves, tracing the sickle-shaped scar on Xiaotong's brow, the dusting of freckles on her nose, finally resting upon almond eyes wide as a startled doe's:
"My Xiaotong... wears a star on her left eyelid."
As wails scattered sparrows from the eaves, the woman glimpsed the inner room's table—
A corner of the note fluttered like a trapped moth, revealing brushstrokes sharp as sword cuts. She lunged for the loom, fingertips finding the rust-stained hemp—then collapsed to her knees, forehead striking the packed-earth floor in three thunderous kowtows toward Burial Ridge.
Moyu Town · Five Coppers of Mortal Debt
Noon sun hammered Moyu Town's blue-granite walls. Guard Zhao Si squinted, thumbing abacus beads that clicked like insect jaws:
"Three coppers from mud-feet... five from pack-rats... silken purse-lambs..."
When the azure-robed figure entered the gate's shadow, Zhao's tongue turned to stone in his mouth. The man trod the same dust as beggars, yet his robes hung pristine as untouched snow—even the hateful sun seemed to lay only cool jade light upon his shoulders.
"Ten thousand blessings, Immortal!"Zhao bent until his spine shrieked. "The Town Master's orders—for exalted guests such as yourself—"
"Rules woven must be honored."
Five coppers chinked into his sweat-slick palm—the precise sum of his imagined "squeeze."
Lin Tianfang melted into the human current, his parting words dissolving in the oven-blast wind:
"The sun bites like a viper today. Buy your brothers sour-plum soup."
Zhao stood petrified. Against his pounding heart, the jade token carved "AZURE ROBE: REPORT URGENT" seared his flesh like a branding iron.
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