- Bianjing Morning Report
The Fourth Year of Tiansheng, Bianjing, Bogu Zhai Antique Shop
The bronze mirror glinted a pallid white in the dawn light.
Qian Yiyan’s fingertips traced the mirror’s back. The center of the Eight Trigrams pattern was unnaturally smooth, as if something had physically gouged it out. Shen Kuo crouched beside her, his "Microscopic Lens" fixed on the cracks. "The fracturing is wrong," he muttered. "The propagation subtly follows the Luoshu diagram, but the breaks at 'Carry Nine, Tread One' are far too contrived."
"As if shattered by a 'shockwave.'" Qian Yiyan withdrew her hand, turning to the trembling shopkeeper. "Describe last night's phantasm in detail."
The shopkeeper's face was the color of a corpse. "It… it looked like the Ghost Market! But some of the shadows moving about had no faces. The wares on some stalls… things I've never seen! Skeletons of iron birds, moving on their own! The night watchman just cried, 'That mirror is devouring the light!' and then he collapsed."
Qian Yiyan’s gaze intensified. She retrieved a small jar of cinnabar, dipped a finger, and swiftly drew a "Shadow-Suppressing Talisman" across the mirror's surface. The scarlet lines flowed along the cracks, but just as the talisman was about to close, the cinnabar suddenly came alive, accelerating beyond control and coalescing into a complex, rhythmic wave pattern at the mirror's heart.
Shen Kuo hastily sketched it with charcoal. "This frequency…" His pupils contracted.
Just then, her maid Zhihua hurried in, presenting a gilt-edged invitation. Qian Yiyan unfolded it. Her eyes skimmed over the Cao family matriarch's elegant words inviting her to the Spring Revelry, finally settling on the final line: "We hear the Northern envoys also admire the spring scenery of the Central Plains and may join the festivities. We eagerly await your refined conversation to display our great nation's grace."
Liao envoys. The Spring Revelry.
Her expression remained impassive as she tucked the invitation into her sleeve. The thin sheet of paper instantly felt heavy as iron.
Astrological Bureau, Duty Office
Second Uncle Qian Weiqi sat in her chair, meticulously skimming tea froth with a lid. He glanced up as she entered, his tone mild. "Yiyan, was the matter at Bogu Zhai resolved satisfactorily?"
"A minor anomaly. Contained for further investigation." Qian Yiyan offered a slight bow.
"Satisfactory." Qian Weiqi set down the teacup; the celadon porcelain clinked crisply against the sandalwood desk. "The banquet at the Cao residence in three days. Remember: you are not only a daughter of the Qian lineage but also a Junior Supervisor of the Astrological Bureau. The Cao matriarch has a fondness for literary arts, particularly the Xuanji Tu. You would do well to engage on that topic."
He paused, his voice dropping half a register, each word precise. "The northern border is uneasy of late. The Bureau of Military Affairs whispers that this year's tribute exchange may face further complications. The Cao family… maintains old connections in the north. The Empress Dowager intends this spring banquet to offer subtle reassurance. Your every word and action concerns the dignity of the court. This is no ordinary family gathering."
The tips of Qian Yiyan’s fingers, hidden in her sleeves, turned cold. Second Uncle had just elevated a marital viewing to the level of state diplomacy. The invitation became an invisible shackle.
"Your niece… understands."
Qian Weiqi stood and walked to the doorway, as if mentioning an afterthought. "Ah, your father's unfinished draft of the Map of Northern Frontier Mountains and Rivers—I've secured the best mounter in the capital. You may retrieve it for the ancestral hall upon your return from the Cao residence, to comfort his spirit." With that, he departed with measured steps.
Qian Yiyan stood in the deepening twilight. Her father's native landscapes, the northern Liao cavalry, the Empress Dowager's "reassurance," the family's expectations, and the mirror in her bosom, cold as a tomb… countless invisible threads entangled her from all sides.
She walked to the window, looking west. That was the direction of Shao Yong's old estate.
- Donghai Night Recon
Donghai City, 02:30
Back alley of the "Elegant Gathering Studio" antique market. Lu Baoyi switched off his scanner and looked at Gu Qingya. "Coordinates confirmed? This place looks like a dump site after a bad deal."
The tip of the "Dragon-Seeking Ruler" in Gu Qingya's hand glowed faintly, pointing unerringly at the shop's heavy alloy back wall. "The earth pulse is congested here. A 'buffer zone' lies behind this wall." He sniffed the air. "Recently 'flushed.' The scent lingers."
Old Chen checked the thermal imager. "Independent space, three meters behind the wall. Climate-controlled. Energy signature… like tossing antique furniture and server racks into a blender. Residual high-frequency pulses, very fresh."
Xiao Zhao's voice came over the encrypted channel: "Perimeter clear. But a persistent infrared beacon on the southeast rooftop, likely an observation post."
"Lin Wan, can you infiltrate the backend?" Lu Baoyi asked via his earpiece.
Rapid keyboard clatter sounded through the link. "Circumventing… done. The target safe registered an unscheduled vibration seven hours ago. Peak time matches the bronze mirror fluctuations we're tracking." Lin Wan paused. "There's also a hidden repeater logging the bio-electric field signatures of anyone approaching the safe—insanely high sampling rate. Doesn't look like security. More like collecting experimental sample data."
"Metis." Lu Baoyi uttered the name. "Persistent ghosts, and they got here first."
Gu Qingya suddenly raised a hand. Almost simultaneously, six shadows slid from the darkness at both ends of the alley. Matte-black combat suits, faces obscured, holding short rods that emitted a low, ominous hum.
No words. Straight to action. The rod tips spat indigo-blue pulses aimed directly at Lu Baoyi’s scanner, Gu Qingya’s ruler, and the signal case on Old Chen’s back.
"EMP weapons! They’re targeting the gear!" Old Chen growled, twisting to shield the case while flicking out a black orb.
The orb detonated, releasing a blinding flash and a burst of high-frequency noise.
The attackers’ movements hitched for half a second. Xiao Zhao had already doubled back from the alley mouth, his weapon firing几张 high-voltage nets that crackled toward the two nearest foes.
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Gu Qingya had moved the instant they appeared. Fast as a skipped frame, he closed on the leftmost assailant, two fingers extended in a sharp jab to a nerve cluster. The man’s arm went numb, the rod dropping. Gu Qingya caught it mid-air and flung it toward a high ventilation duct in the wall.
Snap! A light sound. The oppressive feeling in the air and the hum of the pulse weapons simultaneously weakened.
"Jamming node. Neutralized." Gu Qingya’s voice was calm.
Lu Baoyi half-knelt, data streaming down his arm-mounted terminal. "Xiao Zhao, two hostiles at nine o'clock, predicted path sent!"
Prediction lines lit up on Xiao Zhao’s tactical goggles. He fired without hesitation, the nets whooshing out to entangle the targets.
Old Chen grappled with another attacker. The foe’s combat style was vicious and unorthodox, but Old Chen, leveraging his powered exoskeleton, drove a heavy punch into the man’s ribs. A muffled crack sounded.
Among the remaining three, the leader suddenly drew a short blade less than a foot long. The blade was dark, bone-like, etched with flowing, bizarre totems. He raised it toward Gu Qingya.
A wave of vertigo and nausea slammed into their senses. Lu Baoyi’s vision doubled; Old Chen’s movements froze.
"Psychic interference." Gu Qingya snorted coldly, swiped two fingers over his brow—a clear light flashed in his eyes, banishing all discomfort. He stepped forward, palm striking out, the motion carrying a peculiar "viscous" force field.
The blade-wielder retreated swiftly, his short weapon tracing an uncanny arc. Gu Qingya’s fingers curled slightly as if plucking an invisible thread.
Sss-rip— The light on the totem blade abruptly dimmed. The wielder grunted, hurling down a black pellet.
Thick, ink-like smoke exploded, electromagnetic chaos surging. All screens filled with static, comms severed.
When the smoke cleared, the alley held only wreckage and two net-trapped assailants. The leader and his last companion were gone.
Gu Qingya picked up the pulse rod, examining it. "Metis's cleaners. Professional tools, but no cohesion. Expendable."
The safe was open. The bronze mirror lay inside.
Lu Baoyi scanned it. High-res imaging revealed unnatural crystals embedded deep within the cracks. "Lin Wan, sync analysis."
"Copy…!" Lin Wan’s voice held excitement. "These crystals are arranged as a resonance array! This mirror isn’t an artifact; it’s a trans-temporal information relay! Shao Yong built a directional data transmitter using Northern Song craftsmanship!"
Lu Baoyi took a deep breath. "Can we backtrack what it recently relayed?"
"Captured the frequency… it’s a variant of a standard timing pulse, with an encoded payload. It reads: 'Status confirmed, channel maintained.'" Lin Wan’s tone grew serious. "It was 'activated' not long ago, sending back an 'all clear' signal. The receiving signal vanishes into cosmic background radiation white noise, but the general vector points toward… Yanjin, Henan."
Gu Qingya spoke up: "More than that. This mirror has 'ingested' a lot of noise. The most recent snooping trace carries the same signature as the men from the alley."
Lu Baoyi sealed the mirror in a protective case. "So, Metis isn’t just monitoring this mirror. Tonight’s attack was itself a stress test? To gauge our reaction to the 'key'?"
"And to test the fishing line’s tensile strength." Gu Qingya added, his gaze on the case as if observing bait.
- The Fisherman’s Net
Late night, Ministry Safe House, Underground
Holographic data of the mirror and the cinnabar frequency spectrum recorded by Qian Yiyan were projected side-by-side.
The wave sequence calculated by Shen Kuo and the base frequency reconstructed by Lin Wan matched perfectly, down to the twelfth decimal place.
"This isn’t coincidence." Lu Baoyi’s voice was dry. "This is the same engineering blueprint running on different hardware across a millennium. Shao Yong didn’t just leave theory; he left downward-compatible hardware interfaces."
Lin Wan pulled up a deeper analysis, code streams flooding the projection. "Worse news here. I excavated a backdoor program burned into the array’s foundational layer. Function is explicit: when the mirror is activated by a specific frequency—most likely Qian Yiyan’s cinnabar talisman—it clandestinely copies the complete data packet and attempts transmission via a hidden protocol channel."
"To whom?"
Lin Wan typed. The screen showed a jumping virtual coordinate finally stabilizing on a dark web symbol—an emblem of an ouroboros entwined with an owl.
"Metis." Xiao Zhao gritted his teeth.
"Not done." Lin Wan magnified the last intercepted data stream. After brute-force decryption, text appeared:
> > FISHERMAN PROTOCOL · PHASE LOG <<
> Bait (Bianjing - Bronze Mirror #07) triggered. Key reaction intensity: Grade A+. Yanjin coordinates spacetime curvature ripple shows persistent expansion, matches predicted 'Door' respiratory cycle.
> Recommendation: Execute 'Clean Sweep,' prepare 'Net Casting.' Objective: Full capture of 'Key-Door' interaction paradigm & energy dissipation profile.
> Note: Key (Bianjing - Subject #01) physiological tolerance estimate revised upward. Recommend preserving complete biometrics during 'Clean Sweep' for post-'Net' vivisection & consciousness-stripping research. Sample rarity: Unique.
Dead silence filled the room.
Lu Baoyi stared at the ouroboros emblem, his voice cold as ice. "So Shao Yong built a telephone. Metis secretly tapped the line. And we, along with Qian Yiyan, are the most valuable live broadcast on their surveillance feed."
Gu Qingya leaned against the wall, speaking slowly. "A fisherman casts his net when the fish school gathers. Right now, we’re the fish that have swum into the designated coordinates."
"Not just fish." Lu Baoyi’s eyes burned as he looked at the words 'vivisection.' "We’re the lab mice marked 'unique.'"
- Gaze Across the Mirror
Bianjing, Astrological Bureau Star-Gazing Platform, Sealed Chamber
The bronze mirror, sealed by talismans and lodestones, sat at the room’s center. Qian Yiyan stood alone before it.
Her fingertips brushed the icy frame. Channeling a wisp of internal energy, she tapped the mirror with the precise reverse-phase frequency Shen Kuo had calculated.
The mirror’s surface remained still.
But the moment she withdrew her energy, the darkness within the mirror rippled.
Like a drop into an ancient well. The scene at the ripple’s center changed.
Walls of cerulean data-stream-lit metal. The perspective moved and rotated swiftly, finally settling on the tired, focused profile of a man. He frowned intently at holographic images dancing in the air before him—precisely her cinnabar frequency spectrum!
Immediately, a blurred, urgent electronic female voice pierced her mind:
"... Yanjin... lock acquired... fisherman... net..."
As that voice faded, another, clearer, more heart-rending inner voice crashed in:
"RUN!!!! DON’T GO TO YANJIN!!!!"
The desperate terror in that voice, a near-hopeless warning, seared her soul like a branding iron.
The vision and sounds vanished. The mirror fell dead silent.
Qian Yiyan staggered back, steadying herself against a table. The An Le Pendant against her chest burned like a hot iron brand.
Cold sweat beaded on her temples. Her heart hammered.
Not an illusion. She had seen another world, heard their warning, and felt that stranger’s teetering-on-the-brink anguish.
Yanjin. Fisherman. Net. Run.
These four words, along with that grave face in the mirror and the soul-tearing "RUN," were branded into her consciousness.
She walked to the window, pushing open the lattice. Night wind poured in, unable to dispel the chill in her heart.
The same moment, Donghai Safe House
Lu Baoyi was dissecting the Fisherman Protocol logs. Suddenly, the green jade ring against his skin turned scalding hot!
Hiss— He sucked in a breath. A sensation of spatial dislocation hammered into him.
For an instant, he was no longer in the safe house. He was inside a dim, ancient room suffused with the scent of incense and dust. Before him was an antique bronze mirror draped in black silk. Reflected in it was not himself, but a blurred figure in Song official robes, her expression冷清到极致, yet her eyes held a压着决绝 resolve.
Their gazes met through the虚幻破碎的镜面波纹, across the torrent of a thousand years, for a single heartbeat.
In that heartbeat, Lu Baoyi didn't just see her.
He felt it—the extreme isolation and weight of standing alone on a cliff’s edge, a bottomless chasm below, countless hands pushing from behind, and only darkness ahead into which she must step.
And a resolve, soundless yet clearer than any shout:
"Since there is no retreat, I shall cut a path forward."
The vision shattered.
Lu Baoyi snapped back to reality, still in his chair, his back soaked with cold sweat. The ring’s heat slowly faded.
He slowly looked up at the constantly blinking "Yanjin" coordinate on the screen. The last trace of hesitation in his eyes burned away, leaving only a screen-piercing ferocity.
"Qingya," he spoke, his voice hoarse but each word hitting like a stone, "We’re going to Yanjin."
He tapped the words "Fisherman Protocol" on the screen.
"But this time, we’re not mice scurrying into their lab."
"We’re going as 'peer reviewers'—the kind who dismantle all their equipment and then shove the report in their faces."
Gu Qingya looked at him and nodded, a hunter’s near-cruel curve curling at the corner of his mouth.
"Remember to demand an astronomical review fee."