PUD... PUD... PUD...

Normally, a cat lands without a sound, but the black cat emerging from the Black Box was so round and fat its soft paws made a series of crisp little thuds.

Lord Shi’s corpse lay in a nearby coffin. Feng Bei, her hand clad in a black silk glove, was about to push open the lid when Yue Yan reached out and stopped her.

"Hold on! I’ve read the forensic doctor’s autopsy report. This corpse... I think it’s best if you don’t look, Lord Upper Three."

Yue Yan pursed her lips, her pretty face tense, but the slight twitching at the corners of her mouth betrayed her. She was struggling desperately to stifle a laugh.

Feng Bei frowned slightly, giving Yue Yan a questioning look.

Yue Yan turned her head away. "It’s a nasty sight."

Feng Bei didn’t seem to fully understand, but she still took a step back.

Receptive and polite—that was always Feng Bei’s way.

Yue Yan pushed Dou Xie forward. "Young Brother Xie. Here. You go."

Dou Xie froze, his eyes widening. "Huh? Why me?"

"You’re the most junior, the shortest, and the youngest. You’re ’little’ in every way." Yue Yan’s eyes narrowed and her moist lips curled. She held up two slender fingers, pinching them together until only an inch of space remained to show just what she meant by "little." Then, she laughed. "If it’s not you, who else could it be?"

Speechless, Dou Xie obediently went forward and opened the coffin.

The moment the coffin opened, Dou Xie saw a blackish-purple rod, looking as if it had been lethally poisoned, sticking straight up between the shriveled corpse’s legs. He gasped, sucking in a lungful of corpse-tainted air, and stumbled back several steps.

"Poisoned to death?"

Dou Xie cried out. It was obvious at a glance.

Shi Wentong’s body had been lying in state for days. Though it had been preserved, it was mostly shriveled—except for that one part. Whatever drug he had taken, it made for a particularly searing sight.

Dou Xie hid to one side, rubbing his eyes. ’So painful to look at,’ he thought. ’Sob... it’s always the rookie who suffers.’

The black cat padded over to the side of the coffin, then squatted down and began scratching its ear with a paw, flatly refusing to go any closer.

Yue Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. "Are you trying to extort me again?"

The black cat watched Yue Yan calmly with its shimmering green eyes. It extended a round, plump paw, its nose and the pads of its paw all pointing skyward.

"Look at you, you’re fat as a pig!" Yue Yan sighed, exasperated. From her robes, she produced a small vial and shook out a dark red pill.

Dou Xie watched from the side, taking it all in. He clutched at his own robes; he, too, had been issued a vial of this cat food, called a "wick," when he’d first arrived. It was the special sustenance for a Soul-Chasing Lamp.

After swallowing the wick in one gulp, Mao’er leaped up and quickly got to work. It scrambled onto the edge of the coffin and lowered its head, sniffing.

A moment later, the black cat scratched its ear, gave a lazy yawn, and darted back into the Black Box.

"Meow, meow~"

The black cat called out twice from inside the box.

"Alright! Let’s go. Young Brother Xie, close Lord Shi’s coffin lid. Don’t disturb his rest."

Yue Yan pressed her palms together, bowing respectfully from a distance. After a moment of silent reverence for the dead, a faint smile touched her lips, and she shouldered the box once more.

"That’s it?"

Dou Xie asked, stunned, as he obediently closed the coffin lid.

"We’re done. You’ll understand soon enough."

The three of them left the Six Gates headquarters.

Guo Zifei watched them go, their powerful bearing and effortless style filling him with envy. He swore a silent oath: he would become an even greater Divine Hunter, progress further along the Path, and once he became a Third-grade Miracle Master, he would apply for a transfer to Ye Weiyang again.

A while later, as Guo Zifei was organizing case files again, his eyes fell upon a pile of documents on his desk labeled "Zheng Clan’s Beating Man Assault Case." He abruptly slapped his thigh.

No wonder Yue Yan from Ye Weiyang had looked so familiar! A few years ago, after his promotion to Top Divine Hunter of the Imperial City, he had gone to Zheng’s Cloth Shop to have new clothes custom-made. Back then, Yue Yan was still a tailor there—the best tailor in the Imperial City, in fact—and her name was Xi’er.

Back then, he’d stolen a few extra glances at her; Miss Xi’er was so fresh and full of life, with such a gentle smile. He never would have imagined that a few years later, the top tailor in the Imperial City would become "Yue Yan" of Ye Weiyang’s Twenty-Eight Constellations.

How quickly fortunes turn. Things remain, but people change.

RUSH... RUSH... RUSH...

Outside the Government Office, the streets had grown busier.

Dou Xie was hungry, so he bought a few steamed buns and ate them as he rejoined the others.

He could hear the sound of claws scratching inside the box on Yue Yan’s back.

Sometimes it scratched on one side, then on the other.

After a moment, realization dawned on Dou Xie. ’So that’s how a Soul-Chasing Lamp works.’

Mao’er was guiding them from inside the box by scratching.

The trio continued on, drawing strange looks from the common folk as they passed through three major streets and four narrow alleys.

Sensing something was off, and not daring to approach Feng Bei, Dou Xie sidled up to Yue Yan. "Sister Yue Yan," he whispered, "why doesn’t Lord ’Upper Three’ bring a Soul-Chasing Lamp on missions?"

Yue Yan rolled her eyes. "Young Brother Xie, you’ve already asked that."

But Dou Xie wouldn’t give up. He pointed at the sky. "Th-then why... why do the Ravens avoid us everywhere we go? Aren’t their eyes supposed to be able to identify Miracle Masters? When I first glimpsed the Path, the Ravens circled me for what felt like forever, day in and day out. They only stopped after they got used to me. They never avoided me like the plague the way they’re doing now. It’s just... it’s just creepy."

Feng Bei, who had been following the Soul-Chasing Lamp’s guidance just behind Yue Yan and Dou Xie, faltered in her steps for a moment. But a split second later, she resumed walking, her expression unchanged.

It was Yue Yan whose expression changed. She held out her hand, five fingers extended, then bent her middle finger toward her palm as if pulling an invisible thread. Instantly, a thin, red line appeared on Dou Xie’s neck.

"Shh! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Dou Xie didn’t dare move.

Yue Yan relaxed her hand, and the mark on Dou Xie’s neck vanished without a trace.

"You must never say those two words so casually."

"Which two words?" The young Dou Xie looked utterly baffled, still not grasping the seriousness of the situation.

"The one about the... plague," Yue Yan whispered.

HISS... A chill ran down Dou Xie’s spine as cold sweat beaded on his back. He had the distinct feeling he had just broken a major taboo.

The two of them walked a few steps faster.

Yue Yan lowered her voice. "Why so many questions? Oh, whatever. If you’re going to be in Ye Weiyang, you’ll find out eventually. It’s not against the rules to tell you. Lord Upper Three, Feng Bei... she’s very different from you and me."

Dou Xie was puzzled. "How is she different?"

"You, me, and ninety-nine percent of all Miracle Masters stumbled upon the arcane by chance, glimpsed the Path, and came to learn Miracle Techniques." Yue Yan’s voice dropped to its lowest possible whisper, the words seeming to emanate from her without her lips moving. "But there are a select few—one in a hundred thousand, no, one in a million. You could say they are born blessed, or you could say they are born with an Omen. In short, while most people spend their entire lives unable to even glimpse the Path, these people... they are born already standing within it! We call ’them’ Mystics! Exceptionally, uniquely gifted... Mystics!"

Mystics!

Yue Yan looked up, her voice low. "Whether it’s the Ravens or a Soul-Chasing Lamp, they all despise ’Mystics’. That’s why Lord Upper Three never brings them along."

Upon hearing this, Dou Xie was left completely dumbfounded.

He knew all too well how incredibly difficult it was for an ordinary person to even glimpse the mysteries of the Path.

Take the "Wandering" profession, one of the city’s Middle Nine Professions. There were hundreds of foot messengers in the city, with new faces replacing the old season after season. Yet in the decade or so since Ye Weiyang’s founding, you could say that not even one in a thousand of them had ever managed to step onto the Path of Foot Traveling and become a Miracle Master.

’And yet some people are born already standing in a place others might never reach in their entire lives?’

Seeing the look of pure envy on Dou Xie’s face, Yue Yan was about to tell him that being a "Mystic" wasn’t as lucky as he thought.

Feng Bei took a few steps closer, her gaze serene. "What are you talking about?"

Yue Yan casually tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Dou Xie and I were just wondering," she said smoothly, "why the high and mighty Lord Upper Three would personally petition the Night Lord to intervene in a few minor cases."

Feng Bei seemed to understand. She gave a succinct, one-word answer: "Curiosity."

"Curiosity?" Yue Yan pursed her lips into a playful smile. "I don’t think so."

Feng Bei did not reply.

Yue Yan continued, "It was only after Princess Yu Run died in the palace, leaving behind words written in blood, that Lord Upper Three requested to join this investigation. I suspect, Lord Feng Bei, that your decision has something to do with that wealthy merchant from the Imperial City, Master Zheng."

Feng Bei raised her eyes, her gaze unwavering. Instead of answering, she asked, "I hear that before you joined Ye Weiyang, you were a Tailor at Zheng’s Cloth Shop."

Yue Yan’s smile never wavered. "Lord Upper Three, Ye Weiyang has an ironclad rule. Once you enter our ranks, we don’t ask about your Birth, we don’t ask about your past, and you leave your family name behind. All that remains is your codename. Even blood feuds must be wiped clean and never spoken of again."

"Then answer me as ’Yue Yan’. What do you think of Zheng Xiu?"

"To answer Lord Upper Three," Yue Yan said with a cupped-fist salute, "he’s not good, not bad, and quite likable."

Feng Bei nodded and, following the sound of Mao’er’s scratching, continued forward.

Her cool voice drifted back to them.

Though her voice was aloof, it carried an unshakeable conviction.

"Feng Bei believes that those of the Zheng bloodline are by no means evil."

Feng Bei shot forward, lowering her head with a soft sigh. Her bound hair flew out behind her, straight as a spear.

"...And that is all."