Chapter 43
Lin Yue did not sleep that night.
She sat on the edge of the stone platform assigned to her, hands folded tightly in her lap, listening to a city that refused to rest. Iron Burial City breathed around her—metal groaning faintly, distant footsteps echoing through old corridors, formation lights humming like restrained insects.
She had slept in ruins before.
This was different.
This place felt like it was watching her.
Across the courtyard, Shenping stood beneath a fractured statue, gaze lifted toward the artificial sky. He had not moved for a long time. The faint glow of formation-light traced the sharp lines of his face, making him look carved rather than born.
Dangerous.
Not in the loud way. In the quiet way that comes before something breaks.
"You don't have to stay awake," Shenping said without turning.
Lin Yue startled. "I wasn't— I mean—"
"It's fine," he said. "I wasn't sleeping either."
She hesitated, then stood and walked closer, stopping several steps away. "Are they really using me?"
Shenping was silent for a moment. "Yes."
The honesty surprised her more than the answer.
"But not like a tool," he continued. "More like… bait."
Her throat tightened. "For what?"
"For me."
She studied him, fear flickering briefly before something steadier replaced it. "Then why warn me?"
"Because you didn't choose this," Shenping said. "And because once something like this starts, it's hard to tell which parts are real anymore."
Lin Yue folded her arms. "I survived when everyone else didn't. That already feels unreal."
Shenping finally looked at her.
For a moment, the pressure inside him stirred again—soft, insistent, threading possibility through his awareness. He pushed it down.
"Tell me about your village," he said.
Lin Yue blinked. "Why?"
"Because if they're planning to rewrite you into something else," Shenping said, "I want to know who you were first."
She swallowed, then nodded.
"It was small. Not even on most maps," she began. "We raised ironroot grain and traded with passing caravans. Nothing special. My father fixed tools. My mother sang while she worked. Badly."
Shenping huffed softly despite himself.
"She said singing was for courage, not beauty," Lin Yue continued. "The day it happened, the sky went… wrong. Like it was folding inward. People started screaming. Cultivators tried to hold it back. They failed."
Her voice trembled, but she didn't stop.
"I ran. I don't remember deciding to. My legs just moved. When I looked back, the village wasn't there anymore. Not destroyed. Gone."
Silence settled between them.
Shenping closed his eyes briefly. Villages erased. Again.
"They didn't send anyone to help," Lin Yue said quietly. "No sects. No envoys. Just silence."
"They never do," Shenping replied. "Not until it matters to them."
She looked at him sharply. "And you matter?"
"Yes," he said. "Unfortunately."
Footsteps echoed at the courtyard edge.
Gu Tianxu emerged from the shadows, sleeves loose, expression unreadable. Sang Sang followed, eyes bright despite the hour.
"You're forming attachment patterns too quickly," Gu Tianxu said mildly.
Lin Yue stiffened. "I'm sorry—"
"This isn't an accusation," Gu Tianxu interrupted. "It's an observation."
Shenping turned. "You let her in here knowing this would happen."
Gu Tianxu nodded. "Yes."
"Then don't pretend you're concerned."
Gu Tianxu's gaze sharpened. "I am concerned. That's why I'm here."
Sang Sang sat down beside Lin Yue without asking. "They think if you care, you'll break."
Lin Yue frowned. "Who's they?"
"People who aren't people anymore," Sang Sang said cheerfully. "Or maybe never were."
That did nothing to reassure her.
Gu Tianxu folded his hands. "Lin Yue, you need to understand something. No one here believes you are insignificant."
Her laugh came out thin. "You don't know me."
"That's precisely the problem," Gu Tianxu replied. "Neither do they. And yet they chose you."
Shenping's jaw tightened. "Because I won't sacrifice her."
Gu Tianxu met his gaze evenly. "Because you won't sacrifice anyone. That's what makes you useful."
Lin Yue looked between them. "I don't want to be used to hurt someone else."
Shenping said nothing.
Because he couldn't promise that.
Sang Sang leaned closer to Lin Yue. "You're not the knife. You're the mirror."
Lin Yue blinked. "What does that mean?"
Sang Sang smiled faintly. "It means they want him to see himself through you."
Shenping felt the pressure inside him pulse—once, sharp and warning.
Gu Tianxu stood straighter. "They've started phase alignment."
The air shifted.
It was subtle—no explosion, no light—but Shenping felt it immediately. Something in the city's underlying structure adjusted, as if a hidden lens had turned.
"They're observing more closely now," Gu Tianxu said. "Testing stability."
Lin Yue's hands clenched. "Testing for what?"
"For cracks," Shenping answered.
A ripple passed through the courtyard. One of the broken statues fractured further, stone flaking silently to dust.
Sang Sang tilted her head. "They're impatient."
"That's bad," Gu Tianxu said.
"Why?" Lin Yue asked.
"Because when they get impatient," Shenping said, "they introduce incentives."
As if summoned by his words, a soft chime echoed through the space.
A projection formed above the stone table—small, contained, unmistakably deliberate.
Not the Envoy.
Something else.
A map unfolded in pale light, showing a region east of Iron Burial City. Coordinates pulsed slowly.
Gu Tianxu's expression darkened. "That's—"
"A survivor cluster," Shenping finished. "Near the collapse zone."
Lin Yue's breath hitched. "There could be people alive there?"
"Yes," Shenping said. "Barely."
Text formed beneath the image, cold and precise.
INTERVENTION AUTHORIZED: SUBJECT SHENPING
SUCCESS PROBABILITY INCREASE: 17.4%
FAILURE CONSEQUENCE: TOTAL LOSS
Lin Yue stared at it. "They want you to save them."
"They want me to choose," Shenping said.
Gu Tianxu nodded. "If you go, you reinforce the pattern. If you refuse, they escalate."
Sang Sang hugged her knees. "They always do."
Lin Yue looked at Shenping, eyes wide. "You can't just leave them."
Shenping didn't answer immediately.
He remembered other villages. Other choices. Each one had cost something different, but the result was always the same.
More expectation.
"They're not testing my strength," he said finally. "They're testing my consistency."
Gu Tianxu studied him. "And?"
Shenping met Lin Yue's gaze. "And they think you'll tip the scale."
Her voice was small. "Will I?"
He hesitated.
Then, honestly, "I don't know."
The projection faded, leaving the courtyard colder than before.
Gu Tianxu turned away. "Decision window won't last long."
Lin Yue took a shaky breath. "If you go… can I come?"
Shenping's head snapped toward her. "No."
"Why?"
"Because that's exactly what they want," he said. "You closer. More entangled."
She squared her shoulders. "You said you wouldn't choose for me."
He faltered.
Sang Sang looked between them, then nodded slowly. "She's already inside the pattern."
Gu Tianxu sighed. "Keeping her behind won't erase that."
Shenping clenched his fists. The pressure inside him tightened—not breaking, but bending toward something dangerous.
"Then I'll go alone," he said.
Lin Yue stepped forward. "And if you don't come back?"
Shenping looked at her for a long moment.
"I usually do," he said quietly.
Above Iron Burial City, the formations adjusted again—smooth, silent, approving.
The CORE recorded the response.
Empathy confirmed.
Trajectory maintained.
Next phase ready.
The test was no longer about survival.
It was about loss.