Chapter 23: Messages in the Wind

Lying on his bed with his eyes closed, Feng Xue's mind kept replaying the details hidden within the lines of Modern and Contemporary Popular Art History.

The term modern might seem synonymous with present, but whether in historical periodization, societal transformations, or linguistic nuance, it was never truly the now.

It was a transitional node—a shift that defined what followed. It could be a technological revolution, a shift in societal values, a transformation of faith, or even a restructuring of political systems.

No matter the specifics, modernity always signified the inflection point that created what came after: the contemporary era.

Feng Xue had no way of knowing how far his current present was from the modern described in the book. Though it had been published in the year 464, he couldn't be certain whether this was an actual book that existed in this world, or if it had been generated by his cheat system. Perhaps, it was even a glimpse of the future.

After all, it wouldn't be surprising if a cheat system could simulate upcoming events.

His thoughts drifted as he fell asleep, only to wake again at dawn.

The rhythmic clang of a baton striking iron bars echoed down the corridor. Though it was only his third day, Feng Xue had already adjusted to the routine. Without waiting for instructions, he swiftly rose, completed his morning routine at record speed, and stood by the door, waiting for the guard to unlock it.

But the moment the shackles reactivated around his limbs, he noticed something—something subtle yet unfamiliar.

The air felt… different.

As he fell into step with the other prisoners, that strange sensation remained. Or rather, it wasn't that it had suddenly appeared—it had always been there. He was just now becoming aware of it.

It was in every step he took, every breath he inhaled. It whispered along rooftops, curled around corners, flowing in straight lines or swirling unpredictably as it entered and exited unseen spaces.

By the time he reached the cafeteria, the scattered streams had converged, merging, colliding, dispersing, or amplifying. And at that moment, realization dawned—

He was sensing air currents.

Not strong enough to be called wind, but the subtle, nearly imperceptible movements of air itself.

Why could he suddenly perceive something so faint?

Feng Xue barely needed to think before pinpointing the source—The Clever Bird stored in his inventory. Among his three relics, only this one had the description: Reduces the impact of wind on oneself.

Initially, he had assumed relics functioned on absolute rules—if one blocked bullets, it would always block bullets; if one bypassed defenses, it would always bypass them.

But now, he suspected their real-world effects might be governed by underlying mechanics rather than fixed laws.

However, he quickly dismissed that thought. Some relics clearly operated under strict rules.

For example, the frying pan he obtained earlier had the explicit ability: Blocks one ranged attack per battle. If this were merely an enhancement of reaction speed or visual perception, it wouldn't fit such a definitive description. Unless it also boosted reflexes, but then it would still be functioning as an absolute rule.

Conversely, The Clever Bird had a more abstract effect—Reduces impact. No concrete values, no quantifiable numbers. That ambiguity might explain why it followed a mechanical rather than absolute logic.

As he pondered, a guard handed him his breakfast—a noticeably larger portion than the others'. Feng Xue ate mechanically, his mind racing.

With so few relics, there weren't enough data points to determine how the cheat system truly worked. He set those thoughts aside and focused on how best to utilize this newfound sensitivity to airflow.

Hive Prison was one of the world's most renowned correctional facilities. Its notoriety made it a frequent case study in prison law, and because of that, even with only an entry-level understanding of the subject, Feng Xue was somewhat familiar with its structure.

Publicly available records stated that while the prison's usable area was relatively small, much of its space was taken up by open-air exercise yards and factory buildings.

Excluding the four massive outdoor yards and industrial zones, the actual living quarters covered just 18,400 square meters.

This included:

• A main cafeteria capable of seating 4,000 inmates.

• A smaller women's cafeteria with a 1,000-person capacity.

• 104 solitary cells.

• 560 shared cells, each housing eight prisoners.

• 400 isolation cells.

The entire prison was arranged in a symmetrical, cross-like layout:

• At its center was the main cafeteria.

• Surrounding it were four sector blocks (north, south, east, and west).

• Each sector had 26 solitary cells closest to the cafeteria.

• Beyond them were 140 shared cells per sector.

The southern block was the women's prison, entirely separate from the men's section. The only point of visual contact between male and female inmates was across the open-air yards, but even that was at a considerable distance.

At the corners of each of the four sectors were 100 isolation cells. Further outward were the exercise yards, factories, and warehouses.

That was the extent of public knowledge. What wasn't disclosed? The locations of the guards' quarters, the armory, and essential supply storages.

But now, thanks to his newfound sensitivity to airflow, Feng Xue had an opportunity to sense the prison's hidden architecture.

From his solitary cell, down the hallway, through the cafeteria, and onto the factory floor, the mere two or three hundred meters he had walked had already become a reference point for mentally reconstructing the prison's layout.

For instance:

• The faint traces of food scent must be coming from the main cafeteria.

• The direction of airflow suggested ventilation occurred through upper ducts.

• By tracking air movement and timing the intensity of food scents, he could approximate airflow inside those ducts.

• With expert-level civil engineering knowledge, he could infer the design philosophy of the ventilation system.

• From there, he could deduce room layouts and extrapolate beyond his current range.

It felt exactly like playing Hollow Knight, where he had to map the world based on an NPC's rough sketches, filling in the blanks as he explored.

The precision of this air-current perception made Feng Xue inwardly marvel at The Clever Bird. No wonder it was supposedly salvaged from an ultrasonic stormship survivor—this thing was built for sensing airflow at an absurdly high level.

If only today were an outdoor-exercise day.

Had it been, he would have had access to an even wider and more intricate range of airflows, revealing even more of the prison's hidden pathways.

But this was enough.

Suppressing the impatience bubbling beneath the surface, Feng Xue refocused.

While gathering real-time spatial data through airflow observation, he continued practicing Architectural Visualization.

If he was already mentally constructing an expanding network of prison corridors, why not shape it into an evolving architectural blueprint?

Sure, it was difficult. But with The Clever Bird's assistance, it felt as though he had a real-time reference map.

If he forgot something? No problem. Just open his eyes, verify it, and visualize it again.

If I keep refining this mental map every day… I'll soon uncover the entire prison.