95 - Dungeon Growth Log

Library of Hidden Books (藏书阁). “This isn't scientific at all.” Flipping through a book, Xia Ge frowned. “Why can't I find any clues?” She had gone through every available book about the old ancestor, and other than a few volumes of wild history, almost everything was devoid of hints. The System suggested, “Keep looking.” “Why is it so difficult?” The book Xia Ge was holding had a grandiose, gold-embossed cover, but its contents merely chronicled trivial matters about Lingshi Peak. Xia Ge had hoped to uncover some clues about the old ancestor in a roundabout way, but the book, though ornate, was utterly uninformative. Putting the book back, Xia Ge had a nagging feeling something was off. The corner of the book’s cover felt slightly bumpy, as if something was hidden there. Curious, Xia Ge took the book out again and felt around a bit. “I think there’s something here...” The System asked, “What’s wrong?” Xia Ge didn’t answer immediately. “Let me see...” She carefully peeled back the cover and, indeed, found a tiny, neatly folded square, about the size of a fingernail, tucked between the sturdy paper backing and the soft cover. The System inquired, “What is it?” “I’m not sure... Let me take a look.” Xia Ge deftly rewrapped the book and placed it back where it belonged. Just as she was about to inspect the small square, she felt a tap on her shoulder and someone called her name, “Xia Wuyin!” Startled, Xia Ge almost dropped the tiny square but managed to catch it at the last moment. Turning around, she saw Mao Qing’s curious face. “What are you looking at so intently?” Xia Ge’s heart was pounding. “When did you get here?” “Why wouldn’t I come? You've been buried in this library for days. I got bored and decided to find you.” Mao Qing glanced at Xia Ge’s hand. “What are you holding that got you so scared?” Feigning nonchalance, Xia Ge replied, “...A love letter.” Mao Qing looked utterly incredulous. “What?” “Someone gave you a love letter?” Xia Ge sighed, “...I guess I'm just that amazing.” Mao Qing's mouth twitched. “Right... Sure. So, you stay holed up in the library to read love letters?” “Of course…not.” Xia Ge quickly changed the awkward topic. “What brings you here?” Mao Qing shrugged. “Can't I come without a reason?” Xia Ge panicked, flailing her hands. “Are you going to give me a love letter too, Mao Qing? We can still be friends... don’t do this.” The System was speechless, “…” Mao Qing, exasperated, said, “Alright, stop the act. It’s really eye-searing. I do have something to tell you.” “Huo Bai is leaving.” Xia Ge felt a jolt. “What did you say?” Mao Qing explained, “I heard him telling the teacher he has some family matters to attend to and needs to leave urgently.” Xia Ge seemed indifferent. “Oh… What does that have to do with me?” “You were concerned about him before, so I thought I’d let you know.” Mao Qing couldn’t resist asking again, “Whose love letter was that?” Distracted, Xia Ge mumbled, “Oh… Huo Bai’s.” Mao Qing was genuinely taken aback. “...What?” The System echoed, “...What?” Xia Ge flashed a brilliant smile. “Just kidding.” “Get lost,” Mao Qing retorted, then left. She wasn’t really fascinated by history or genuinely interested in giving Xia Ge a love letter. Xia Ge wasn’t passionate about history either, but she had no choice but to feign interest to find clues. It was truly exhausting. Once Mao Qing was out of sight, Xia Ge carefully unfolded the small paper square. The paper was brittle and slightly yellowed, as if age-old. In the warm sunlight streaming through the library windows, dust particles floated lazily. The tiny script on the paper, elegant and precise, seemed to whisper softly through the centuries, landing now in the hands of a fateful reader. “Corpses of a hundred thousand, wailing evil spirits, sealed at Wuyi Mountain. The tranquil spell holds for over fifty years. The sins are hard to absolve. — Anonymous” “...Anonymous?” Xia Ge furrowed her brows, her heart fluttering slightly. She sensed something and quickly began searching the shelves again. The System asked, “What are you looking for?” “A handwritten book, handwritten...” Xia Ge was searching frantically. Most of the books in this section were already familiar to her, so it didn’t take long to find what she was looking for— “The Teachings of Lingshi — Handwritten Copy by the Ancestor.” Xia Ge opened the book and compared the characters on the paper with those in the book. After a short while, she closed the book and sighed in relief. “…This must be it.” The System, recognizing the handwriting, asked, “So this note is from the Lingshi ancestor?” Xia Ge examined the note, contemplating, “Possibly. The content somewhat aligns with the tomb ceiling scenes...” The tomb ceiling depicted a woman playing a flute, tears streaming down her face, surrounded by wailing evil spirits and garments to suppress those spirits. The System speculated, “But why would she write this and hide it here?” “How should I know?” Xia Ge pondered, examining the paper again. “Maybe... such matters couldn’t be spoken of back then.” So, it had to be written down, silently sealed within a book, buried in the annals of history. As proof that something like this had ever happened. The System was puzzled, “What does that mean?” Xia Ge guessed, “Who knows? I’m only speculating.” “But if she did what the note says... why isn’t there any trace of it?” Xia Ge was perplexed. “If there were truly a hundred thousand evil spirits, such a major incident would surely be recorded in history, right?” Yet, there’s no trace of it. The legend of her, the celebrated Lingshi ancestor, had always been one of grandeur and glory. Only within her silent tomb were there brief, silent accounts of this grievous mistake. The System conjectured, “Perhaps she feared future generations’ condemnation, so she hid everything, but she still felt guilty, hence leaving this in her tomb?” Xia Ge scoffed, “Huh? That’s rather hypocritical.” The System sighed, “…” Xia Ge continued, “If she did it, she did it. Hiding it is just lying.” The System retorted, “Shut up. You’re the last person who should be saying that.” Xia Ge shrugged, “Hey, but it seems meaningless to me. Even if her name is immortalized, I don’t know any great deeds she did. Without extraordinary good or bad deeds, she’s just the Lingshi ancestor. Knowing she liked eating osmanthus cake doesn’t make sense to me.” The System reasoned, “Well, she founded Lingshi Peak. That alone makes her more accomplished than you.” Xia Ge pulled out a “Historical Records” volume, righteously stating, “There are plenty more accomplished than me. But I don’t know if the founder of the Thousand Souls Sect liked eating osmanthus cake or visiting brothels.” “…” That was unanswerable. The System changed the topic, “...Huo Bai is leaving.” “Of course, he is.” Xia Ge, setting the “Historical Records” back on the shelf, stretched languidly. “His assassination target escaped. Why would he stay? It’s not like me, settling on the Dan Peak long-term.” The System inquired, “So you’re just going to let Huo Bai leave? No plans to maybe ‘accidentally’ expose him?” Xia Ge scratched her chin, “If I push him too hard, he might reveal I am a puppeteer, and that would be bad.” She pocketed the tiny note and shook her head, “Not a risk I’m willing to take.” The System sighed, “Ah? So you’re just letting it be?” Xia Ge exited the library. “Can I do anything about it? We’ll see.” The System asked, “Where are you going now?” Xia Ge replied, “Take a guess.” The sun was bright, the flowers in full bloom, and the oleander outside the study was even more resplendent. By the window, a young girl in a red and white maple robe quietly reviewed documents, the red ink brush in her hand setting off her jade-like hand. Xia Ge casually picked a branch of pink oleander and hid it behind her. She stood at the windowsill, smiling gleefully. “Good afternoon, Senior Sister.” Gu Pei Jiu’s brush paused briefly, but she didn’t lift her head. She set the completed documents aside. “Good afternoon.” The faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the fragrance of oleander, creating a pleasant aroma. “Senior Sister, don’t keep your head down. Look at me.” Xia Ge pleaded, “Stop working.” Gu Pei Jiu ignored her. “Don’t make a fuss. Go play somewhere else.” With a slight whine, Xia Ge ran inside, pushing the door open. Sunlight spilled into the room, and Xia Ge slid next to Gu Pei Jiu, presenting the oleander branch in her hand. “Senior Sister, look at the flowers!” The broken oleander branch swayed with her movements, its delicate petals fluttering down in the gentle breeze, several landing on the freshly reviewed documents. One petal fell on the ‘granted’ character, staining it subtly with red ink, resembling a dream from which one couldn't wake. Gu Pei Jiu glanced at the petal stained with crimson ink, then looked at Xia Ge. The flower branch in Xia Ge's hand had lost most of its petals, leaving behind a pitifully bare stem. Many petals had fallen on her clothes, and she awkwardly glanced at the now-bare branch before hiding it behind her back. “...It’s ruined.” Then, with a hint of delight, she said, “But you looked at me, Senior Sister.” Gu Pei Jiu casually waved her hand, and a gentle breeze swept the fallen petals off Xia Ge's clothes. The petals scattered, floating away. “What brings you here?” Xia Ge blinked her eyes, “I came to pay my respects!” Gu Pei Jiu didn’t look at her. “Tell the truth.” “I am telling the truth. I came to pay my respects.” Xia Ge twirled the branch in her hand, her gaze drifting. “Well, and ask you something, of course.” Gu Pei Jiu stated, “Before that, I have something to ask you.” Xia Ge was puzzled. “Hmm?” Nonchalantly flipping through a document, Gu Pei Jiu asked in a calm voice, “Have you ever heard of the Ghost Tide?” It felt as if something had reached into her chest, tightly squeezing her heart, gripping its most vulnerable part. Xia Ge’s pupils contracted, and a shiver ran through her as if she had been electrified. A whirlwind of chaotic thoughts flashed through her mind before dissolving into blankness. The flower branch slipped from her hand, landing silently among the scattered petals on the ground. Xia Ge heard her own stiff voice, “You said… Ghost… Tide?” —She hadn't heard this term before. —Yet, why did it evoke a vague, familiar fear, making her feel as if something had seized her heart? Author’s note: Took care of visiting friends today, posting from the drafts √ 7.28