The formation chamber was silent. Too silent.
Soft blue light flickered over the walls. Bai Yujing stood in front of the large mirror at the center. Su Xue waited beside her, arms folded, seal resting quietly inside her sleeve.
Lu Xuan hadn't arrived yet.
But the mirror was already glowing.
Lines appeared across its surface—thin spirals, curving carefully. Su Xue stepped closer.
"This shape," she said, "I've seen it before."
"Where?" Bai Yujing asked.
"In the ruins left by the Blood Lotus Sect. Below the altar, carved into the stone."
They both stared.
The mirror wasn't reacting to Lu Xuan's presence.
It was showing something before he arrived.
Bai Yujing frowned.
"The mirror isn't responding. It's remembering."
Su Xue touched the seal.
It pulsed softly. Not in warning, but as if it recognized the shape.
Far away in the imperial palace, Emperor Zhao Rui stood before a large map showing the three realms—Tianxuan, the Demon World, and the Immortal Realm.
A new crack had appeared on the Tianxuan side.
"Celestial Dawn has agreed to attend the summit," a courtier said.
"And Lu Xuan?" Zhao asked.
"No answer yet."
Zhao didn't react. He placed a royal seal next to the crack.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "The world will speak of him anyway."
He turned to his strategist.
"Send the symbol. Not to the sect—but to the temples across the land."
"So people will prepare?"
"So they'll begin to write," Zhao said calmly.
In Celestial Dawn, Lu Xuan arrived at the formation chamber.
The mirror had gone dark, but the strange feeling in the air remained.
Su Xue looked at him.
"You're late."
"I wasn't called," Lu Xuan said.
"That's not true," Bai Yujing replied. "You were expected."
He stepped toward the mirror.
"Did it show anything?"
"Yes," Su Xue said. "A glyph you haven't drawn yet."
Lu Xuan blinked.
"I've seen shapes like that in my dreams," he said. "Nothing clear. Just shadows."
"Some marks don't come from the hand," Bai Yujing said. "They come from memory."
He stared into the mirror again. His reflection shimmered slightly.
Behind it—faint spirals. Just like the ones in his sketch.
Later that evening, Su Xue sat alone beneath a quiet tree.
She pulled out the old sketch Lu Xuan had made. The lines weren't messy—they were careful. Like something deep inside him wanted to speak.
She folded the paper and slid it beside her seal.
The seal pulsed.
Not strongly.
Just enough to say: I remember too.
She looked up at the stars.
They hadn't changed.
But something inside the world had.
That night, Bai Yujing stayed awake in Moonflame Hall.
She studied old scrolls—ones she hadn't touched in years.
Each contained broken glyphs from the serpent cult. Failed seal patterns. Symbols tied to the Demon World.
One line appeared in three separate documents:
"When symbols appear before hands, the soul is no longer alone."
Bai Yujing didn't smile.
But she didn't burn the scroll.
Elsewhere, in a small temple far from the capital, a young scribe received a sealed letter from Emperor Zhao's court.
Inside was the mirror glyph.
When the elder looked at it, he whispered:
"This isn't a call for war.
This is a message for history."