Chapter 45 — What Wasn't There Three Years Ago

The northern road out of Hollow Reed was barely a road.

It began as two shallow wheel tracks between pale reeds, narrowed into a dirt path after several li, then disappeared entirely beneath grey grass and exposed stone.

Duan Zheng didn't hesitate.

At the third fork, he turned east.

Then stopped.

Jian Wuchen looked at him.

"The clasp said north."

"It said northern approach."

Duan pointed toward the path ahead.

"This is the main road."

Lu Chen looked between the two directions.

"So we avoid it."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because whoever scratched those marks into the clasp wanted us to."

Lu Chen considered that.

"That doesn't mean we should."

Ye Feng glanced at him.

"You're learning."

Lu Chen looked pleased.

Shen Yuan walked past them and took the narrower trail.

"We're still going."

Lu Chen followed immediately.

Apparently learning had limits.

The sheath clasp rested inside Duan Zheng's sleeve.

Old Profound Sword workmanship.

An old route notation.

A route leading toward Reed Grave.

None of that proved the injured swordsman Physician Ren had treated was Song Yao.

None of it proved the man had belonged to the false Seventh.

It proved only that someone carrying an old Profound Sword clasp had arrived in Hollow Reed with a sword wound beneath his left ribs, asked about Reed Grave, and left behind directions that Duan Zheng recognized.

For now, that was enough.

Shen Yuan let his spiritual sense rest lightly across the surrounding hills.

Nothing unusual.

At least, nothing unusual enough to concern him.

Behind him, Lin Yue walked near the front of the group.

Jian Wuchen carried Clear Wind at his side.

Lu Chen had found a reed stalk somewhere along the road and was attempting to balance it across one finger.

Duan Zheng and Ye Feng brought up the rear.

It was almost peaceful.

Shen Yuan disliked that.

Peaceful roads had developed an unfortunate habit of becoming expensive.

His thoughts drifted briefly toward the system.

Need.

Suitability.

Timing.

Compatibility.

Coherent investment.

None of those ideas were new.

The system had been showing him their importance since Lin Yue became his first disciple. The Lunar Yin Marrow alone had taught him that a resource could be almost perfectly suited to a disciple's path and still be entirely wrong for that disciple at a particular moment.

Jian Wuchen's cultivation had reinforced the same lesson.

So had Lu Chen's.

What had changed wasn't Shen Yuan's knowledge of the individual pieces.

It was his willingness to treat them as parts of the same problem.

A million low-grade spirit stones could be worth less developmentally than one correctly chosen object.

An Immortal-grade treasure could be worse than a piece of Mortal Realm equipment if the disciple wasn't ready for it.

And an opportunity—

Shen Yuan glanced at the three figures ahead.

—could sometimes matter more than either.

The system had listed special opportunities among valid forms of investment from the beginning.

He had simply made less use of that category than he should have.

That would change.

But there was a difference between giving his disciples opportunities and throwing them into danger because he wanted a return.

Shen Yuan had no intention of confusing the two.

Fortunately, the cultivation world provided enough danger without his help.

"Peak Master."

Duan Zheng's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Shen Yuan looked ahead.

The reeds had thinned.

Beyond them lay a low basin of grey earth scattered with weathered stones.

Some were ordinary grave markers.

Others had once been carved into the shapes of swords.

Time had rounded their edges until many looked more like narrow pillars.

A shallow stream wound between them, its water stained faintly yellow by minerals in the surrounding hills.

Several collapsed mine openings scarred the basin walls.

Duan Zheng stopped at the edge.

"Reed Grave."

Lu Chen looked around.

"This is a graveyard?"

"It used to be."

"What is it now?"

Duan Zheng's expression remained flat.

"A graveyard nobody wants."

"That's still a graveyard."

Ye Feng sighed.

"Don't encourage him."

"I asked a reasonable question."

"You always think that."

Duan Zheng ignored both of them.

"The settlements around Grey Reed used to mine sword-iron and spirit-bearing stone. Small deposits. Nothing famous. Enough to keep several clans alive."

He pointed toward the oldest section of the basin.

"Sword cultivators died here. Miners died here. Wanderers too poor to be carried home died here."

Jian Wuchen's gaze moved across the broken markers.

"And the swords?"

"Anything valuable was taken generations ago. Grave robbers handled most of what remained."

"So why investigate this place?"

"Because three years ago, one of the swords connected to your father's death passed through Grey Reed."

Jian's expression sharpened.

Duan continued.

"The trail ended near here."

"And you found nothing."

"Almost nothing."

Duan stepped into the basin.

"I searched Reed Grave twice."

He looked toward the collapsed mines.

"Which is why I want to know what your father's old movement technique is doing here now."

No one answered.

They spread out.

Shen Yuan didn't give instructions.

He watched.

Jian naturally examined the old sword marks and grave stones.

Lu Chen wandered toward one of the collapsed mine entrances.

Lin Yue stood still.

For several breaths, she did nothing.

Then she turned away from the mines entirely.

Shen Yuan's eyes followed her.

Interesting.

Lin walked toward the shallow stream.

She crouched beside it.

Touched two fingers to the water.

Then looked upstream.

"Master."

Shen Yuan approached.

"What did you find?"

"I'm not sure."

Good answer.

Lin rose and walked twenty paces along the bank.

She stopped beside a patch of reeds.

Then another.

Duan Zheng came closer.

"What is it?"

Lin pointed.

"Those are older."

Duan looked at the reeds.

"Yes."

She pointed several paces farther.

"Those are younger."

"And?"

Lin pointed beyond them.

Older reeds again.

Duan frowned.

Lin moved toward the slope.

The same pattern appeared there.

Mature growth.

A narrow section of younger vegetation.

Then mature growth beyond it.

It wasn't obvious.

Shen Yuan probably wouldn't have cared about it if Lin hadn't stopped.

Lin looked toward the stream.

"The water changed too."

Ye Feng crouched beside the bank.

"Flood?"

Lin shook her head.

"If the stream shifted naturally, the plants should change with it."

She paused.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"The change stops."

Duan Zheng looked where she was looking.

Then his expression altered.

"This wasn't disturbed when I came here."

"You're certain?"

"Twice."

Lin walked another twenty paces.

Stopped.

Turned left.

"This way."

Jian Wuchen followed without asking why.

Lu Chen abandoned the mine entrance and joined them.

They crossed a section of uneven ground behind three broken grave markers.

Nothing was there.

At least nothing visible.

Lin stopped.

"I think something underneath changed."

Lu Chen blinked.

Then looked down.

He stepped once.

Twice.

Moved sideways.

Stamped lightly.

Jian Wuchen watched him.

"What are you doing?"

"Listening."

"With your feet?"

"Yes."

Lu Chen moved another pace.

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Stamped again.

Then crouched and pressed one palm against the soil.

Several breaths passed.

His expression became increasingly serious.

"The ground is pretending to be ground."

Jian Wuchen stared at him.

"Ground doesn't pretend."

"This one does."

"That sentence means nothing."

Shen Yuan stepped beside Lu Chen and looked downward.

"He's right."

Jian Wuchen went silent.

Lu Chen looked vindicated.

Shen Yuan extended his spiritual sense beneath the soil.

Stone.

Packed earth.

Roots.

Then—

Empty space.

Not natural.

A section beneath the graves had been reinforced, hollowed, and covered.

Duan Zheng's face hardened.

They cleared the surface carefully.

Beneath a layer of packed soil and stone lay an old mine support beam.

But the wood wasn't old.

Not enough.

The outer surface had been deliberately weathered.

Duan crouched.

Scraped away a corner.

Fresh grain showed beneath.

"This wasn't here."

Shen Yuan looked toward the collapsed mine farther away.

"The mine was."

"Yes."

"The entrance wasn't."

Duan said nothing.

That distinction mattered.

Someone hadn't built an entire underground complex beneath Reed Grave.

They had taken old mine workings, reopened them, reinforced them, and concealed the new access beneath a section of disturbed terrain.

Duan Zheng hadn't failed to find it three years ago.

At least part of it hadn't existed in this form.

Jian Wuchen looked into the darkness below.

"Recent?"

"Recent enough," Duan said.

Lin glanced at the regrown reeds.

"Not yesterday."

"No."

Shen Yuan looked at the entrance.

"Let's see what needed hiding."

The first tunnel smelled of damp stone.

The second smelled of medicine.

By the third, the place stopped resembling an abandoned mine.

Wooden supports reinforced the walls.

Oil lamps had been removed from several hooks, but the hooks themselves remained.

A row of sleeping platforms lined one chamber.

Eight.

Another chamber contained three more.

Lu Chen counted them.

"Eleven."

"Approximately," Lin said.

"Could be twelve."

"Why?"

"Someone could sleep on the floor."

Jian Wuchen looked at him.

"Why would they?"

Lu Chen shrugged.

"Maybe they like floors."

Ye Feng muttered something under his breath.

Shen Yuan ignored them and examined the room.

The evacuation had been hurried.

Not panicked.

Whoever had left had taken important personal possessions and most portable records.

They had not bothered with common supplies.

A cracked medicine jar remained on one shelf.

Sword oil.

Bandages.

Two boxes of ordinary spirit recovery pills.

A dismantled formation plate.

In the next chamber, shallow cuts covered a stone wall.

Duan Zheng examined them.

His face grew colder.

"Same structure."

Shen Yuan looked at him.

"False Seventh?"

"Yes."

No hesitation.

Good.

One fewer mystery.

Duan touched one of the cuts.

"Not the complete Seventh Severing Sword. Training derivations. Modified."

Jian Wuchen examined another mark.

"Designed to resemble it."

Duan nodded.

"Enough to confuse someone who knows the Seventh Lineage but hasn't studied it closely."

Ye Feng folded his arms.

"So this place belonged to them."

"At minimum, they used it."

A sound came from deeper inside.

Wood striking stone.

Everyone stopped.

Another sound.

Then the sharp crackle of flame.

Duan Zheng moved.

Shen Yuan raised one hand.

"Wait."

Duan looked at him.

"Someone's still here."

"I know."

Another crack.

This time followed by the unmistakable surge of spiritual energy.

Someone was burning something.

Duan's eyes narrowed.

"They're destroying records."

"Probably."

"And we're waiting?"

Shen Yuan looked at his disciples.

Lin Yue had already drawn Moonfrost.

Jian Wuchen's hand rested on Clear Wind.

Lu Chen had stopped smiling.

Shen Yuan's spiritual sense had already swept the chamber ahead.

Four cultivators.

The strongest was Foundation Establishment.

None possessed a foundation remotely comparable to Zhao Tianming's.

Dangerous enough to kill ordinary young cultivators.

Not dangerous enough.

"Lin Yue."

She looked at him.

"Take your juniors."

A pause.

Then:

"Yes, Master."

Duan stared at Shen Yuan.

"They're trying to kill your disciples."

"I noticed."

"And you're sending them in?"

Shen Yuan looked at him.

"They're cultivators."

That was all.

Lin moved first.

Jian and Lu followed.

The next chamber exploded before they reached it.

Not outward.

Sideways.

A sword strike tore through the tunnel wall where Lin's head would have been if she had continued forward.

She had already stopped.

The transition had been wrong.

One moment there had been silence.

The next, killing intent.

Between them—

movement.

Lin stepped backward.

Moonfrost left its sheath.

Cold spread across the tunnel floor.

A dark-clothed man emerged through the dust.

Foundation Establishment.

Sword.

No warning.

No demand.

His blade went directly for Lin's throat.

Moonfrost met it.

Clang.

Frost burst across both weapons.

The man's eyes changed.

He had expected resistance.

Not that much.

Lin twisted her wrist.

The frost didn't climb his sword.

It spread beneath his leading foot.

His stance shifted.

Attack—

correction—

retreat.

Lin moved during the correction.

Moonfrost passed his shoulder.

Blood followed.

Behind her, another cultivator rushed Lu Chen.

A heavy palm crashed toward his chest.

Lu Chen raised both arms.

The impact drove him backward three steps.

Stone cracked beneath his heels.

"Lu Chen."

"I'm fine."

The man attacked again.

This time Lu didn't brace against it.

His foot shifted.

His shoulders loosened.

The palm struck.

Force entered.

For an instant, his body seemed to sink.

Then the pressure moved.

Down.

Across.

Into his rear foot.

The stone beneath him fractured.

But Lu remained standing.

His eyes brightened.

"Oh."

The attacker clearly didn't appreciate that reaction.

He struck harder.

Lu received it again.

Not perfectly.

His shoulder snapped backward and pain flashed across his face.

But the force didn't remain where it landed.

It traveled.

Changed.

Returned through his stance.

Lu stepped forward.

His fist struck the man's ribs.

A dull crack echoed through the chamber.

The man staggered.

Lu looked at his own fist.

"Oh."

"Stop saying that," Jian Wuchen said.

Clear Wind moved.

The third cultivator had been approaching Lin from behind.

One moment he was there.

The next, Jian's broken blade crossed his sword.

No explosion of Sword Qi.

No enormous technique.

Just a small turn of the wrist.

Clear Wind's internal channels carried Jian's Sword Qi almost instantly through the damaged blade.

His opponent's weapon shifted half an inch too far.

Jian stepped inside.

The cultivator saw the opening and abandoned Jian.

His sword turned toward Lu Chen's exposed back.

Clear Wind followed.

One cut.

The man stopped.

His sword fell first.

Then he did.

Jian didn't watch him fall.

His attention had already moved elsewhere.

The fourth cultivator was running.

Not toward the exit.

Toward the far wall.

"Stop him," Lin said.

Lu moved.

Too slow.

The man slammed his palm against a carved sword mark.

Spiritual light ignited.

Lin saw the change.

Retreat becoming activation.

Fear becoming decision.

The instant between them.

Moonfrost moved.

A pale line crossed the chamber.

The man's hand stopped less than an inch from the center of the formation.

Frost spread over his sleeve.

Then his chest.

He collapsed.

Silence returned.

Lu Chen looked at him.

Then at Lin.

"Senior Sister."

"Are you hurt?"

He rotated his shoulder.

"A little."

"Jian Wuchen?"

"Fine."

Lin nodded.

Only then did she look at the body.

For one breath.

Two.

Her expression didn't change.

"He wasn't stopping."

Lu Chen looked at the dead man's hand.

Still reaching toward the formation.

"No."

That was all.

A groan came from behind them.

The cultivator Lu had struck was trying to crawl away.

Lu looked down.

Then at Lin.

"Alive?"

"Alive."

"Should I—"

"Keep him that way."

Lu nodded.

"All right."

He dragged the man away from the wall.

Duan Zheng and Ye Feng entered the chamber.

Duan looked at the bodies.

Then at Shen Yuan.

"You really weren't going to interfere."

"If necessary."

"And if it wasn't?"

"It wasn't."

Duan was silent for a moment.

"Your disciples are strange."

Shen Yuan looked at Lu Chen, who was currently attempting to determine the least painful way to sit on a prisoner.

"Yes."

The prisoner woke several minutes later.

His first attempt was to circulate spiritual energy.

Lu Chen tightened his grip.

"Don't."

The man froze.

He looked at Lu.

Then Lin.

Then Jian.

His gaze remained on Jian.

Something changed.

Not fear.

Recognition.

"Jian Shou's son."

The chamber went quiet.

Jian Wuchen stepped closer.

"You knew him?"

The man's mouth closed.

Duan Zheng crouched in front of him.

The prisoner saw his face.

This time there was fear.

"Duan Zheng."

Duan smiled without warmth.

"Good. That saves time."

The man said nothing else.

Duan checked his teeth, sleeves, collar, and meridians for suicide mechanisms.

"Alive is useful."

Lin glanced at Shen Yuan.

He nodded once.

They would question him later.

For now, the chamber mattered more.

Especially the formation the dead cultivator had nearly activated.

Duan approached the wall.

A sword mark ran diagonally across the stone.

Old.

At least it looked old.

He raised two fingers.

Jian Wuchen spoke.

"Don't."

Duan stopped.

Jian stepped closer.

"What?"

"That's not damage."

Duan's eyes narrowed.

Shen Yuan had already noticed.

The sword mark wasn't merely carved into the wall.

It connected.

Stone.

Formation ink beneath the stone.

Spirit-conducting metal hidden deeper inside.

Then the storage chamber beyond.

A relationship.

One designed to complete itself when Sword Qi entered from the outside.

Simple.

Elegant.

Annoying.

Duan studied it again.

"A sword cultivator would probe it."

"And complete the formation," Jian said.

Ye Feng's expression darkened.

"Destroying everything behind it."

Jian drew Clear Wind.

Duan immediately looked at him.

"You just explained why that's a bad idea."

"I know."

Jian placed the broken blade near the beginning of the carved line.

Sword Qi entered.

Barely enough to see.

The four channels within Clear Wind responded.

Shen Yuan watched carefully.

Jian wasn't forcing his way through the formation.

He was listening to it.

The Sword Qi followed the route the trap expected.

First turn.

Second.

Third.

The formation brightened.

Duan tensed.

Jian's hand shifted.

At the final junction, his Sword Qi stopped.

Not withdrew.

Stopped.

Then moved sideways through a narrow secondary groove the formation's creator had used to stabilize the trigger.

The light flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Went dark.

A section of wall clicked.

Jian lowered Clear Wind.

[Disciple Jian Wuchen has deepened his understanding of controlled Sword Qi circulation.]

Shen Yuan waited.

Nothing else appeared.

No Cause and Effect Amplification.

Interesting.

He filed that away.

One observation wasn't a rule.

The wall opened.

The room beyond was small.

And considerably more valuable.

Three storage bags.

Two sealed crates.

A rack containing dismantled sword fittings.

Several boxes of formation components.

Spirit stones.

Medicine.

Not enough to make Shen Yuan care personally.

Enough to make several Azure Origin elders very happy.

Lu Chen looked inside one storage bag.

His eyes widened.

"Master."

"Hm?"

"Can a sect be robbed if the people we're taking things from were hiding under a graveyard?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

A pause.

"Are we robbing them?"

"No."

"What is it called?"

"Evidence."

Lu Chen nodded thoughtfully.

"Evidence is profitable."

Duan Zheng rubbed his forehead.

Ye Feng looked away.

Shen Yuan decided Chen An was somehow responsible.

They continued searching.

Jian stopped near a bundle of dried roots.

The roots were pale grey, threaded with thin metallic veins.

Duan glanced at them.

"Sword-tempering reed root."

"Useful?" Shen asked.

"For low-level sword cultivators. It grows where reeds absorb trace Sword Qi from mineral soil. Usually ground into tempering paste."

Shen Yuan touched one.

[Sword-Tempering Reed Root.]

[Grade: Earth.]

[Sword Dao Saturation: Moderate.]

[Compatibility with Disciple Jian Wuchen: 87.4%.]

[Current Developmental Suitability: 93.8%.]

[Clear Wind Sword Channel Development Suitability: High.]

Shen Yuan's eyebrow rose.

An Earth-grade root.

He thought of the Nine-Heaven Meridian Divine Iron sitting untouched in storage.

One was incomparably more valuable.

One was useful now.

There it was again.

Shen Yuan put the roots away.

Jian noticed.

"For me?"

"Eventually."

Jian nodded.

No questions.

Nearby, Lu Chen had discovered a circular metal plate.

It was ugly.

Thick.

Covered in dents.

He lifted it.

"What does this do?"

Duan glanced over.

"Force-distribution plate."

Lu's eyes brightened.

"What does that do?"

Duan stared at him.

"It distributes force."

"Oh."

He turned it over.

Several interconnected grooves covered the back.

Training equipment.

A cultivator struck the center and the internal structure dispersed the impact through several anchored points rather than allowing it to remain concentrated.

Ordinary.

Low-value.

Shen Yuan looked at it.

[Force Distribution Training Plate.]

[Grade: Low Earth.]

[Market Value: Low.]

[Compatibility with Disciple Lu Chen: 74.6%.]

[Current Developmental Suitability: 94.3%.]

Shen Yuan smiled.

"Lu Chen."

"Yes, Master?"

"Keep it."

Lu hugged the dented plate to his chest.

Jian looked at him.

"You're really taking that?"

"Master gave it to me."

"That wasn't my question."

Lu thought seriously.

"Then yes."

Jian turned away.

Shen Yuan almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Lin Yue wasn't looking at the storage room.

She had returned to the tunnel.

Shen Yuan found her beside a narrow channel of underground water.

The current passed through dark mineral stone before disappearing beneath the opposite wall.

Lin watched it.

"Something wrong?"

"No."

She touched the water.

Cold.

Not unusually so.

Residual Sword Qi existed within it, but too diffuse to matter.

Lin remained there.

Shen Yuan waited.

Eventually she said:

"It changes."

"Everything does."

Lin looked up at him.

Shen Yuan smiled faintly.

"Continue."

"The Sword Qi in the water."

She pointed upstream.

"It becomes stronger where the water passes through the mineral layer."

Then downstream.

"Weaker there."

"Because it's dispersing."

"Yes."

She paused.

"But some returns."

Shen Yuan looked more carefully.

She was right.

Not the same Sword Qi.

But the water moved through a lower channel, circulated through the mineral bed, then rejoined the main stream farther ahead.

Absorption.

Saturation.

Release.

Return.

A cycle.

Nothing lunar about it.

Lin's eyes remained on the water.

"The moon isn't making this happen."

"No."

Her brow furrowed.

"The cycle still exists."

Shen Yuan said nothing.

He didn't need to.

Lin watched the water for several more breaths.

Then stood.

Something subtle had changed in her spiritual circulation.

Not a breakthrough.

Not even close.

But the Third Lunar Channel responded.

[Disciple Lin Yue has expanded comprehension of cyclical transition.]

[Third Lunar Channel Development: 64% → 68%.]

Shen Yuan looked at the notification.

Then at Lin.

"Useful trip?"

She considered the underground stream.

"Yes."

Good.

The records took longer.

Most had been burned.

Some had been soaked in formation solvent.

Others had been cut into pieces small enough that reconstructing them would take days.

But whoever evacuated Reed Grave had been hurried.

They had missed things.

Duan Zheng spread several surviving sheets across a stone table.

Sword registrations.

Supply purchases.

Medicine allocations.

Movement dates.

Ye Feng leaned over his shoulder.

"This isn't a base."

Duan nodded slowly.

"No."

Jian stood opposite them.

"What was it?"

Duan picked up one record.

Then another.

"Transfer point."

For swords.

Weapons arrived under one description.

Their fittings were removed.

Scabbards changed.

Registration marks altered.

Residual Sword Qi characteristics recorded.

Then they left under another description.

Sometimes in another direction entirely.

Duan became very still.

Three years of frustration rearranged itself behind his eyes.

He pulled out the damaged message they had recovered.

The old line.

The one that had made little sense.

"...do not follow the sword."

Duan laughed once.

There was no humor in it.

"I followed the swords."

Shen Yuan leaned against the wall.

"That appears to have been the intention."

"They weren't trails."

"No."

Duan looked at the dismantled fittings.

"They were cargo."

Jian's hand tightened around Clear Wind.

"Why?"

"We don't know yet."

A good answer.

Shen Yuan appreciated those.

Duan continued sorting.

Then stopped.

One sheet carried several names.

Not membership.

Observation references.

Profound Sword figures connected to different transfers and investigations.

Duan Zheng.

Zhou Xuanji.

Li Cangwu.

And—

Song Yao.

Duan stared.

Jian noticed first.

"What?"

Duan didn't answer.

He checked the date.

Then another page.

Then a third.

His face changed.

Shen Yuan straightened.

"Problem?"

"I was wrong."

"About?"

"Song Yao."

Silence.

Duan tapped the date.

"This entry is from after the disappearance."

Jian frowned.

"That's impossible."

"No."

Duan closed his eyes briefly.

"The disappearance wasn't hers."

Ye Feng stared at him.

"What?"

Duan exhaled.

"Three years ago, I had people following separate parts of the investigation. One of my contacts vanished after reaching Grey Reed."

He looked toward the damaged records.

"The later report referenced Seventh Lineage movement and Falling Reed. When the recent recording surfaced..."

"You connected them," Shen Yuan said.

Duan nodded.

"I connected them."

Jian's expression hardened.

"But Song Yao knew Falling Reed."

"Yes."

"My father taught her."

"Yes."

"And someone used it here."

"Yes."

Shen Yuan looked at the name on the ledger.

"Then correcting one mistake hasn't made Song Yao less relevant."

Duan gave him a tired look.

"No."

"Good."

Ye Feng stared at Shen Yuan.

"Good?"

"I dislike wasted trips."

Before Ye Feng could answer, Lin called from the adjoining room.

"There's something here."

They followed.

Behind a collapsed shelf lay a body.

Old.

Three years old, perhaps.

Little remained beyond bones, damaged clothing, and a corroded token beneath one hand.

Duan Zheng stopped.

He knew the token.

His face became unreadable.

"Your contact?" Shen asked.

"Yes."

No dramatic revelation followed.

No secret survivor.

No hidden identity.

A man had followed the trail here three years ago.

He had found enough to be killed for it.

Duan crouched and retrieved the token.

For several breaths, he said nothing.

Then:

"I'll take him home."

Shen Yuan nodded.

One question closed.

Several remained.

But one closed.

That was progress.

The most important record was found beneath the dead man's body.

A thin piece of treated jade.

Damaged.

Duan activated it carefully.

Fragments of text appeared.

[...Jian Shou was not the target at first...]

The next section was missing.

[...Seventh is false...]

Another gap.

[...they were searching for...]

Nothing.

Then:

[...do not follow the sword...]

Duan's jaw tightened.

He turned to the transfer registry.

Pages moved.

Dates.

Locations.

Sword descriptions.

Then he stopped.

Jian Wuchen saw his expression.

"What?"

Duan didn't answer immediately.

He placed one entry beside the jade.

Then another.

"Three years ago, I thought the movements started after your father became involved."

Jian waited.

"They didn't."

Duan pointed at the date.

"This shipment passed through Grey Reed before Jian Shou died."

Jian's eyes lowered to the record.

The chamber became very quiet.

Ye Feng spoke first.

"How long before?"

"Long enough."

Duan looked at the surrounding racks.

At the stripped sword fittings.

At the false registration marks.

At the dead investigator.

Then at Jian.

"They weren't waiting for your father."

Jian's voice was level.

"Then why kill him?"

Duan was silent.

Shen Yuan answered instead.

"Because he found them."

Jian looked at him.

Shen Yuan continued.

"The operation already existed. Your father encountered it. Investigated it."

"And became a problem."

"Probably."

Jian looked down at Clear Wind.

There was no dramatic surge of Sword Qi.

No ancient voice.

No reaction from the First Key.

Just Jian Wuchen standing in an underground room, learning that his father's death might have been simpler than destiny.

Not less important.

Simpler.

Jian Shou had seen something wrong.

And apparently refused to walk away.

Jian's fingers relaxed around the hilt.

"That sounds like him."

Duan looked at him.

For the first time since entering Reed Grave, his expression softened.

"Yes."

Then he returned to the registry.

"We still don't know what they were searching for."

"Or why Zhou Xuanji disappeared," Ye Feng said.

"Or why Song Yao lied about knowing where he went," Shen Yuan added.

Duan looked at Song Yao's name.

"No."

Jian looked toward the records.

"But now we know where to ask."

Duan found one final transfer notation.

A destination.

Not another valley.

Not another forgotten ruin.

Profound Sword territory.

He tapped it once.

"We go back."

Lu Chen appeared in the doorway carrying the force-distribution plate under one arm.

"Already?"

Everyone looked at him.

"What?"

Ye Feng stared at the metal plate.

"You're taking that?"

Lu Chen looked at Jian.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

For the first time that day, Lin Yue smiled.

Only slightly.

But Shen Yuan saw it.

They left Reed Grave before sunset.

Duan Zheng carried the remains of the man who had died there three years earlier.

Ye Feng carried copied records.

Jian Wuchen carried Clear Wind.

Lu Chen carried an ugly piece of training equipment worth less than some of the medicine they'd confiscated.

Lin Yue walked at the front.

Moonfrost rested at her side.

A thin trace of dried blood remained near the guard.

She hadn't mentioned it.

Shen Yuan didn't either.

Not yet.

Behind them lay a hidden facility that had survived for years beneath a graveyard.

Ahead waited Profound Sword Sect.

Song Yao.

Zhou Xuanji.

And several people who were about to discover that losing a hidden base was considerably more troublesome when the people who found it actually brought the evidence home.

Shen Yuan glanced once toward Reed Grave.

Three years ago, Duan Zheng had come here looking for a trail and found almost nothing.

This time, they were leaving with a prisoner, records, resources, a dead man's answer, and considerably fewer excuses for anyone involved.

Better.

Mysteries were troublesome enough when they didn't pay for the trip.