15.The Shadow That Never Sleeps

The night sky hung heavy over Tianxu Palace like a curtain of black that refused to be drawn.

The rain had not yet fallen, but the air was thick with the scent of metal and damp earth, clinging to every breath with a stiffness that defied words. A soft wind brushed past, nudging the lanterns along the palace veranda, casting flickering shadows on the walls like ancient spirits demanding their place once more.

Zhenyu sat hunched over a low table, the warmth of aged paper still lingering on her palms.

The letter bearing the name "Langyao Xian" seared through her awareness, splitting the line between body and soul—a soul no longer wholly hers.

She touched the nape of her neck, slowly. The pulse there no longer belonged to her—slower, deeper, as though beating from another realm. Helian Qingyin remained silent that night. But her presence grew ever more real, harder to distinguish from Zhenyu herself.

In the corner of the chamber, Meilan had fallen asleep sitting up, her body curled beneath a thin blanket.

Bai Rouxi had yet to return from delivering a message to the southern wing of the palace. Zhenyu knew her time was suspended on a single thread, and that thread could be cut from either end—

by Ji Suling, or by herself, unraveling.

She rose quietly.

Her steps glided without sound, save for the faint whisper of her robes brushing over stone tiles.

Beyond the divider, a small mirror with a golden stem rested where it once belonged to Qingyin. She lifted it. The reflection was pale, her eyes twin pools of endless black.

But deeper still, beyond her own shadowed gaze, she glimpsed just for a moment a faint, familiar smile.

Too familiar.

Too foreign.

"Don't look back, Zhenyu…"

The voice came as a whisper, like breath drawn from the mirror itself.

But Zhenyu did not obey. She turned.

And at that instant, the lantern's flame snuffed outnot from the wind,but from fear.

Not hers, but remnants of one who once died from yearning too hard to live.

The corridor she crossed toward the inner pavilion stood silent,yet never truly asleep.

The palace only pretended to slumber so mortals could feel safe.

Behind every wall, there were eyes that watched, ears that listened, and hands that recorded waiting to be used at the most devastating moment.

Zhenyu moved swiftly toward the well behind the main library.

It was said to house the Second Seal the spiritual tether that bound Qingyin to her body and perhaps even a passage into the cracks of Rongxu Jing.

Yet she failed to notice the presence shadowing her from above since she left her chambers.

Yuwen Jinhai stood atop a jade-tiled roof, his black robe melting into the night.

The wind carried the fading scent of peonies, slightly rotting, thickening the silence of the evening with a looming tension.

His gaze followed Zhenyu, unblinking. Not curiosity

Something deeper.

Not love.

Not even vengeance.

But a promise once sworn in blood and sorcery.

When Zhenyu reached the well, she brushed aside the small stones that veiled its edge.

From the cracks in the earth, a moist breath rose, carrying murmurs like water, but not of this world.

She drew in a deep breath.

But before she could take another step,a voice emerged from behind the pillar's shadow:

"You're looking for it, aren't you?"

Zhenyu froze.

She didn't need to turn.

She knew that voice Yuwen Jinhai.

But when she looked back, she didn't just see Yuwen she saw herself,reflected through an unfamiliar lens.

Yuwen's eyes gleamed with something strange. As though he wasn't alone—

Two other spirits mirrored through him: one from the past,

one from a place that knew no time.

"The Shadow Mirror," Yuwen whispered.

"If you keep seeking it, it will begin seeking you. And when it gazes into you… there will be no Zhenyu, no Qingyin. Only a reflection you cannot fight."

Zhenyu's voice barely rose.

"I'm not seeking it for me.

I'm trying to end all of this."

Yuwen laughed, short and bitter.

"Nothing ends, Zhenyu.

It merely changes shape. A soul once lost can never return whole."

A pause.

The wind carried the last traces of dew onto their cheeks.

Zhenyu stepped forward, now face-to-face with him. From the nape of her neck, a voice hissed again louder this time:

"Kill him."

She shut her eyes.

The voice belonged to Qingyin.

But she didn't obey.

"Do you know why Qingyin fears the Shadow Mirror?" Yuwen asked, his steps drawing near."Because truth was never meant to be seen.

It was meant to be denied. And you… you are too alive to deny anything."

Elsewhere, in the palace's western wing, the Empress Dowager lifted her rarely opened eyes.

In her hand, an ancient talisman trembled softly.

She knew the gates of Rongxu Jing had shifted.

She knew two souls had crossed too far beyond the threshold.

"The Shadow Queen is awakening," she murmured to her loyal maidservant.

"And if she returns… it will not be only Qingyin who burns. This entire palace shall become the stage for a re-burning of history."

The maid bowed low. "Shall we act?"

The Empress Dowager's smile was faint, almost tender.

"Not yet. Let love grow just a little more…

For only love can destroy them in the most exquisite way."

At the well, the earth cracked open.

A dark violet glow spilled through stone, breathing air from another realm.

Zhenyu and Yuwen stood still, eyes locked.

"If you step in," Yuwen whispered,

"you won't return as yourself."

Zhenyu answered, calm and quiet.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

And she jumped.

But just before her body vanished into the violet flames,

Yuwen's hand caught hers, pulling her violently.

They fell together into a spiritual void without sky, without time,

where only one echo remained:

Helian Qingyin. Helian Qingyin. Helian Qingyin…

The echo was not mere sound, but vibration that pierced marrow,

spreading through skin like living mist.

The world they entered was not earth, nor sky.

It was liquid shadow—flowing like water, boundless, directionless, reflectionless.

Even lantern light cast no silhouette here,

as if the place consumed all traces of reality.

Yuwen Jinhai rose first.

His eyes cleaved the dark with a faint gleam, like embers beneath snow.

He pulled Zhenyu from the vortex

but as their hands met, laughter cracked from every direction.

A woman's laugh. Whispering. Ironic. Too far—

Too near.

Zhenyu froze. That laugh was not Qingyin's.

"I… don't know her," she muttered, her brow furrowing.

Yuwen turned sharply.

"Then the third seal is beginning to break. We need to leave now."

But the black ground beneath them rippled, solidifying into a narrow path stretching toward a crimson gate in the distance.

Above it, a symbol pulsed within Zhenyu's mind, though she'd never seen it before:

一梦之界 – The World Within One Dream.

That was where Langyao Xian resided—the being even Qingyin never spoke of, but who had always dwelled in the innermost layer of Rongxu Jing.

"If we leave now," Zhenyu whispered, trembling, "the truth will never emerge. I need to know… who I am now."

Yuwen placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You still have a choice, Zhenyu. But once you cross that threshold, your current self will vanish. Not just your body… but every memory others have of you."

Suddenly, Qingyin's shadow appeared beside Zhenyu.

Not as a spirit, but as a wound.

"If you keep going," she said, voice trembling, "I will drown with you. I… I don't want to be forgotten."

Zhenyu looked at her—the woman whose fear had never been of death, but of erasure.

"I'm not your hero, Qingyin," Zhenyu whispered. "But I want to know…

who you were protecting so fiercely you'd inhabit a stranger's body for a lifetime."

She stepped forward.

And as her foot touched the crimson gate,

the world shuddered.

—

In the waking world, the well ceased to glow.

Meilan awoke in her master's chamber, sweat soaking her brow.

She'd dreamed of Zhenyu sinking into black mist, her hands reaching upward, her lips moving with no sound.

Elsewhere in the palace, Ji Suling sat in her study, an ancient scroll inked in blood unfurled before her.

One name had appeared—written not by hand, but by spirit:

Langyao Xian: the nameless, faceless, deathless one.

Suling exhaled.

"You're too fast, Zhenyu… but that's exactly what I hoped for."

She sealed the scroll shut…