The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the air cool and sharp.
I'd barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the relic's faint light flickering through the cloth, like a heartbeat that didn't belong to me.
When the morning bell rang, I pretended nothing was wrong—because pretending is my best skill.
I dressed neatly, tied my hair, and walked through Cloudrest's stone corridors with the perfect expression of an assistant who had definitely not stolen a divine object.
The Sect Master's office was already open.
Shen Qianhe stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back. His white robe caught the morning light, making him look like one of the calligraphy scrolls that had decided to start breathing.
He didn't turn when I entered.
"The Heavenly Inspector will arrive soon," he said, his voice calm as always. "Until then, I want our records organized."
"Yes, Sect Master."
I crossed to the shelves, trying to look busy instead of guilty. The scent of ink filled the air—rich, bitter, grounding.
Behind me, paper rustled. He was reviewing something. Maybe the reports I'd doctored.
My heart thudded quietly in my ears.
"Assistant Lin."
I froze halfway through stacking a scroll. "Yes, Sect Master?"
"Yesterday," he said, "you left the vault quickly. Did you notice anything unusual before you did?"
I kept my tone polite, steady. "Only that everyone else was panicking, Sect Master."
He hummed softly, a sound that could mean anything from approval to suspicion.
"Panic is a waste of energy."
I smiled faintly. "That's why I left early."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then, he returned to his reading.
I let out the smallest breath I dared.
By midmorning, the corridors were buzzing.
Whispers bounced off the walls like little ghosts of gossip.
"The relic thief could still be here!" someone whispered.
"Maybe it was an inside job," another voice said.
"Don't be ridiculous," a third argued. "Who would dare steal under the Sect Master's nose?"
I smiled to myself as I passed.
Apparently, me.
Then a phrase made me stop.
"…heard Heaven's sending someone to investigate."
My fingers tightened around the stack of papers I was carrying.
Heaven never sent "someone" without reason. They sent hunters when they smelled blood.
The archives were empty when I reached them, except for one flickering lantern and a stack of forgotten ledgers. The quiet pressed down like water.
I started sorting scrolls into neat piles, moving faster than I needed to.
A shadow flickered across the floor.
I turned.
No one.
The lantern swayed slightly, though the air was still.
I waited a few seconds longer, then forced a laugh at myself. "You're fine, Lin Xue. Completely fine. Just committing mild celestial crimes, nothing serious."
The shadow moved again—this time on the far wall.
I spun around, heart racing—
—and almost crashed into a disciple.
He yelped. "A-Ah! Assistant Lin!"
"Why are you sneaking up on people like that?" I snapped.
"I—I wasn't!" He clutched a broom like it was a sword. "The elders told me to clean—"
"During an investigation?"
He looked ready to cry. "They said the archives were haunted!"
I stared at him. "…By dust?"
He didn't laugh. I sighed. "Fine. Sweep quietly."
As he shuffled away, something shiny glinted near the corner of the shelf—just for a second, like the reflection of light on glass.
I crouched down.
The glow was faint and golden, tracing a small symbol burned into the wood. It wasn't ordinary—it shimmered, like Heavenly writing half-erased.
My blood went cold.
A marker spell. Heaven's version of a tracking tag. Someone had been here before me.
I brushed my sleeve over it, muttering a counter-script under my breath until the glow faded.
By the time I stood, my knees felt like paper.
When I returned to the main hall, disciples were gathered in neat rows. Shen Qianhe stood at the front, calm as a carved statue.
"The Heavenly Inspector arrives this afternoon," he said. "Until then, no one leaves the mountain. Assistants will deliver your meal rations."
"Yes, Sect Master!" the disciples answered in unison.
His gaze swept over them once, sharp as lightning, before turning away. He didn't look at me, but I felt the air shift when he passed.
Maybe it was just my guilt turning solid.
By sunset, the mountain was quiet again. Clouds rolled low over the peaks, glowing red at their edges.
I walked the outer path, pretending to enjoy the view.
What I was actually doing was moving the relic again.
It was too risky to keep it near my quarters. The tracking mark in the archive proved Heaven was already sniffing around.
The only place they wouldn't think to look was somewhere sacred—somewhere already filled with divine energy.
Like the Sect Master's study.
Breaking in wasn't hard.
(Technically, it wasn't even breaking in. I had keys.)
The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and rain. Scrolls lined the walls in perfect order. I walked softly, every step a prayer not to creak.
I found the small alcove near the back, where the Sect Master stored ceremonial incense. A perfect hiding spot—divine energy would cover any faint relic trace.
I slid the shard into the box beneath the incense sticks and closed the lid carefully.
"Stay quiet," I whispered. "Don't glow. Don't hum. Don't do anything relic-like."
It pulsed once—almost teasing.
I glared at it. "I mean it."
Then I heard footsteps.
They were soft, even, familiar.
I froze, every muscle locked.
The door slid open.
Shen Qianhe stepped inside, a candle in hand.
He looked as calm as always—but his gaze flicked toward the corner where I stood half in shadow.
"Assistant Lin," he said.
I bowed too fast. "Sect Master! I was just… checking the air quality in your office."
"…The air quality," he repeated, politely.
"Yes. Very balanced, I'd say. Slightly sandalwood-scented."
His expression didn't move, but I could almost feel the question hovering unsaid.
"Next time," he said finally, "check it during daylight."
"Yes, Sect Master."
He turned toward his desk, and I used the moment to escape like my shoes were on fire.
Back in my room, I collapsed into my chair and pressed my hands over my face.
"Perfect," I muttered. "Truly flawless espionage. Who checks air quality at night?"
The rain started again outside, soft at first, then steadier.
Somewhere high above the mountain, thunder rolled—a low, patient sound.
Heaven was coming.
And I had just hidden their stolen property in my boss's room.