Nine Desolate Records

The lights flickered in the downpour.

Lu Li, carrying the violently convulsing Yun Jin on his back, stood before the tightly closed gates of Guilin Manor. The two characters "Guilin" on the stone lintel were blurred by the rain. The stone walls on both sides were mottled and covered with vines, and the entire manor was as silent as a desolate tomb in the rainy night.

"Open the door!" Shi Yong used his last bit of strength to pound on the door knocker. The sound of the iron ring striking the wooden door was extremely faint in the torrential rain. "Is anyone home? Open the door!"

No one answered.

Only the patter of rain against the eaves and Yun Jin's increasingly violent convulsions could be heard. White foam began to spill from the corners of the girl's mouth, and the skin at the extinguished sword marrow mark between her brows began to crack, oozing fine blood vessels—a sign that her soul was about to completely disintegrate.

Lin Qingyuan leaned against the stone pillar by the door. His right eye was completely blind, and his left eye could only see blurry images. He stretched out his still-functioning right hand, feeling the patterns on the door frame: "The material of this door... is 'Soul-Suppressing Wood,' which can isolate spiritual fluctuations. But there should be something behind the door..."

Before he could finish speaking, footsteps came from inside the door.

It was very light, but clearly discernible in absolute silence.

The sound of the latch sliding.

Then, the door opened.

An aged face peeked out from under the door. His hair was white, his eyes cloudy, and his face was covered in wrinkles; he looked at least sixty. The old man wore a worn-out raincoat and carried an oil lamp, its light flickering in the downpour.

His gaze swept over the four people outside the door, and when he saw the crack between Yun Jin's eyebrows, his pupils visibly contracted.

"Who are you...?" the old man asked in a hoarse and wary voice.

"Disciples of Shu Mountain," Lu Li said before Lin Qingyuan could speak, "we have been ordered to take refuge at Guilin Manor. We have wounded people who urgently need medical treatment."

He deliberately omitted his specific identity, not wanting to reveal too much before knowing the situation inside the villa.

The old man remained silent for three breaths, his gaze sweeping over the four people one by one: the faintly visible three-colored light on Lu Li's chest, the strange appearance between Yun Jin's eyebrows, the black lines on Lin Qingyuan's left arm, and Shi Yong's almost unsteady figure.

"Come in." The old man finally stepped aside. "But remember, the manor has its rules."

The four staggered in.

The old man immediately bolted the door again, his movements as practiced as if he had done it a thousand times. He raised the oil lamp, illuminating the front yard. The yard was small, paved with bluestone slabs, with firewood piled in the corner and dried herbs hanging under the eaves. The air was filled with a faint mixture of medicinal fragrance and musty smell.

The entire mountain village was eerily quiet; apart from the sound of rain, there was no movement of any living creature.

"Come with me." The old man carried the lamp and walked towards the main hall.

The main hall was spacious, but simply furnished. There were a few tables and chairs, and a shrine. Inside the shrine was not a statue of a deity, but a broken sword. The blade of the broken sword was engraved with cloud patterns, similar to the patterns on the collar and cuffs of the cloud-patterned robe.

"Put her here," the old man said, pointing to a long table in front of the shrine.

Lu Li carefully placed Yun Jin flat on the table. The girl's convulsions had subsided, but her breathing had become extremely weak, almost imperceptible. The crack between her brows spread like a spider web, with blood constantly seeping out.

The old man bent down to examine her, a complex look flashing in his cloudy eyes. He reached out, his withered fingers gently touching the crack between Yun Jin's eyebrows, then looked at the cloud patterns on her collar and cuffs.

"Backlash from the Eye of Illusion... a rift in the soul..." The old man's voice was deep. "This injury has lasted at least three days. To have endured until now, you must have used the 'Sword Essence,' right?"

Lu Li was startled: "How did you know, senior?"

"Because I used it back then too." The old man straightened up, took out a small cloth bag from his bosom, opened it layer by layer, and inside were more than a dozen silver needles of different lengths. "I am the manor keeper left behind by Yun Potian. My surname is Chen. You can call me Uncle Chen. Thirty years ago, Lord Yun saved my life, and I promised to guard this manor for him."

He took out the longest silver needle and heated it over the oil lamp flame: "But Lord Yun's last words only said that if anyone wearing the Shu Mountain Cloud Pattern and possessing the Eye of Delusion is seriously injured, they must be treated with all their might. As for the others..." His gaze swept over Lu Li and Lin Qingyuan, "It depends on the situation."

"Senior," Lu Li stepped forward, "she..."

"I know who she is." Uncle Chen interrupted him, slowly inserting the silver needle into the deepest part of the crack between Yun Jin's eyebrows. "Yun Jin is Lord Yun's only daughter. The mark between her eyebrows is exactly the same as the 'soul mark' left by her father back then."

The moment the silver needle pierced through, Yun Jin's body trembled violently.

But this time it wasn't a painful spasm, but a violent reaction as if she had been forcibly pulled back to reality. A faint whimper escaped her throat, and although her eyes were not open, her eyelids were trembling violently.

Uncle Chen's technique was extremely steady. The silver needle remained between his eyebrows for three breaths before being slowly withdrawn. A wisp of extremely faint, almost invisible gray-black mist emerged from the needle tip—the remnant of fear's corrosive influence.

"The sword marrow has glued the crack together, but it hasn't removed the erosion." Uncle Chen reheated the silver needles over the oil lamp. "Her condition is very dangerous right now; the crack could completely burst open at any moment. I need to use the 'Soul-Stabilizing Needle' to temporarily seal the crack, but it can only last for six hours. Within those six hours, we must find a soul-nourishing medicine, or... awaken her own consciousness."

After saying that, he stopped talking and focused on administering the acupuncture.

One, two, three… seven silver needles were inserted into seven major acupoints on Yun Jin's forehead, temples, and back of the neck. With each needle insertion, Yun Jin's breathing became more even. When the seventh needle was inserted, the crack in her forehead finally stopped spreading, and the oozing blood congealed.

But her face remained as pale as paper, like a fragile piece of porcelain.

"It's stable for now." Uncle Chen wiped the sweat from his brow. "Six hours, no more. Now, it's your turn."

He turned to Lin Qingyuan: "The fear in your left arm has already reached past the elbow, hasn't it? If it goes any higher, it'll reach the shoulder."

Lin Qingyuan nodded, without denying it.

Uncle Chen stepped forward and lifted the sleeve of his left arm. The black lines had spread two inches above the elbow, and the blood vessels under the skin were bulging, displaying an ominous purplish-black color. Most frighteningly, the edges of the lines were slowly "wriggling."

"This sealing technique..." Uncle Chen carefully examined the bronze-colored rune chain remnants, "It's the 'suppression and sealing' technique of the Shu Mountain Sword Tomb, but the caster was clearly not skilled in it."

He looked at Lu Li: "Did you cast the seal?"

"Yes," Lu Li admitted, "I've only learned the basics."

"The fur is enough; at least it slows down the erosion." Uncle Chen took out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, uncorked it, and poured out some dark green ointment. "This is 'Soul-Suppressing Ointment,' made from thirty-six kinds of herbs. It can temporarily suppress the erosion's activity, but it can't eliminate it; it can only buy time."

He applied the ointment evenly to the black lines on Lin Qingyuan's left arm.

The moment the ointment touched his skin, it made a sizzling sound, like cold water being poured onto red-hot iron. Lin Qingyuan groaned, veins bulging on his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and didn't scream.

The movement of the black veins has slowed down significantly.

"This ointment can suppress the erosion for six hours, the same duration as the girl's Soul-Stabilizing Needle." Uncle Chen put away the porcelain bottle. "If you haven't found a way to completely remove the erosion after six hours, his left arm... must be amputated. Otherwise, the erosion will invade his heart meridian, and even a god couldn't save him."

The left arm was severed.

These four words struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

"Is there... no other way?" Shi Yong asked in a trembling voice.

"Yes," Uncle Chen's answer was unexpected. "In the underground chamber of Guilin Manor, there are some things left behind by Lord Yun. Among them is a potion called 'Cleansing Dew,' which is said to be able to purify the corruption at the level of the soul. But..."

He paused. "But the secret chamber is sealed by an array, and the key is in a keepsake that Lord Yun always carried with him. Do you have it?"

Lu Li and Lin Qingyuan exchanged a glance.

The keepsake that Yun Potian carried with him back then?

Perhaps Yun Jin has it?

But Yun Jin was unconscious, and they couldn't very well search the personal belongings of an unconscious woman.

"We don't," Lu Li answered truthfully.

Uncle Chen sighed, "Then we'll have to use the conventional method. You have six hours—either find the token to open the secret room, or..."

He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was already very clear.

Either amputate to save your life, or wait to die.

Silence fell over the main hall.

Only the flame of the oil lamp flickered.

"Senior," Lu Li asked, "are you... alone at the manor right now?"

"There were originally two apprentice herbalists, but they went down the mountain to gather herbs three days ago and haven't returned yet." Uncle Chen's tone was calm, but a trace of worry flashed in his cloudy eyes. "The rain came suddenly, and the mountain roads are difficult to travel. They may be trapped in the mountains."

He paused, then added, "But you don't need to worry. The manor has a protective array set up by Lord Yun back then, so ordinary demons can't get in. As long as you don't leave the manor grounds without permission, you'll be safe at least tonight."

"Can the formation still function?" Lin Qingyuan asked.

"The core array eye is still there, but after thirty years, some of the array patterns have worn away." Uncle Chen pointed to the broken sword in the shrine. "That's the core of the array eye, left behind by Lord Yun himself. I've been maintaining it all these years, and it's still usable, but its power is much less than before."

Lu Li looked at the broken sword.

Although the sword was broken, the break was still sharp, and the cloud patterns on the guard were clearly visible. He could feel that a faint but extremely pure sword intent remained inside the sword, the power left behind by Yun Potian.

"Senior," he suddenly asked, "what exactly did Senior Yun Potian leave behind here back then? Besides the formations and medicines, what else?"

Uncle Chen remained silent for a long time.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, illuminating his aged face.

"Lord Yun once said," his voice became extremely low, as if recalling something from a long time ago, "that this manor was his...escape route. If one day, the matter he was investigating failed, or if he himself met with misfortune, this manor would be the 'seed' he left for those who came after him."

"A spark?"

"Hmm." Uncle Chen nodded. "In the underground chamber of the manor, there is all the intelligence he has collected over the past thirty years—about the 'Demon-Feeding Project,' about the nine anchor points, about the truth of the Prisoner's Seal, and... how to destroy all of this."

He raised his head, a sharp glint flashing in his cloudy eyes:

"But Lord Yun also said that the information was too dangerous, and if it were leaked, it could cause an even greater disaster. So he sealed the secret room and left the key to the person he trusted most. He said that only that person was qualified to open the secret room and carry on his legacy."

The person I trust most.

Lu Li looked at the unconscious Yun Jin.

Is it her daughter? Or... someone else?

"That person..." Lin Qingyuan asked tentatively, "Is it Miss Yun Jin?"

Uncle Chen did not answer.

He simply stood up and walked towards the back room: "You all should rest first. There are two empty rooms in the east wing, and the bedding is clean. I'll go prepare some food. In your condition, if you don't replenish your strength, even with medicine, you won't be able to hold on."

"Senior," Lu Li called out to him, "Can the manor's protective array... detect any movement outside? For example... are any pursuers approaching?"

Uncle Chen stopped and looked back at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "The formation can only defend, not detect. But if pursuers really get close, they will at least trigger the formation's warning layer. So far, the formation has been quiet."

After saying this, he picked up the oil lamp and disappeared into the corridor leading to the back hall.

Only four people remained in the main hall.

Yun Jin lay flat on the long table, seven silver needles arranged in a strange pattern between her eyebrows, her breathing steady but weak.

Lin Qingyuan leaned against the wall, the ointment on his left arm taking effect, temporarily suppressing the restless, corrosive sensation, but the cold, numb feeling still lingered.

Shi Yong slumped into a chair, so tired he could barely open his eyes.

Lu Li walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.

Outside the window, the rain was pouring down.

The rain pattered against the eaves, the ground, and the distant woods, creating a dense, rushing sound. The whole world seemed to be swallowed up by the rain, leaving only boundless darkness and the sound of rain.

He looked down at his chest.

The light from the three dagger seals was still flowing, but the tremors were becoming increasingly pronounced. The willpower required to maintain his balance was rapidly depleting, and he could sense that if he used the power of the daggers again, the balance might be completely shattered.

And once broken...

He didn't know what would happen.

But he knew it must be terrible.

"Lu Li," Lin Qingyuan's voice came from behind, very softly, "What are you thinking about?"

Lu Li didn't turn around: "I'm thinking... what we should do next."

"Six hours," Lin Qingyuan said. "Yun Jin's Soul-Stabilizing Needles and my Soul-Suppressing Ointment are both only effective for six hours. After six hours, if we can't find the token to open the secret chamber and obtain the 'Cleansing Dew'..."

He didn't finish speaking.

But everyone understands.

Six hours was their final countdown.

"Perhaps..." Shi Yong suddenly spoke, his voice hesitant, "Perhaps Miss Yun Jin... has that token on her?"

Lu Li and Lin Qingyuan both looked at the unconscious Yun Jin.

The girl lay there quietly, her pale face appearing particularly fragile in the lamplight. Her collar and cuffs were embroidered with cloud patterns, and a plain sachet hung from her waist; apart from that, there was nothing that looked like a "token of love."

"We can't..." Lin Qingyuan shook his head. "It's not appropriate to go through her things while she's unconscious."

"But what if that's the only way to save lives?" Shi Yong countered.

No one can answer this question.

The main hall fell silent once again.

There was only the sound of rain, only the sound of breathing, only the crackling of the burning oil lamp.

After an unknown amount of time, footsteps were heard coming from the back room.

Uncle Chen returned carrying a tray with several bowls of steaming rice porridge and a small dish of pickled vegetables. The porridge was thick and fragrant, looking especially tempting on this cold, rainy night.

"Eat up." He distributed the bowls of porridge to the three of them. "After you finish eating, get a good night's sleep. Six hours... should be enough for you to recover some of your strength."

Lu Li took the bowl of porridge, and the warmth of the porridge passed through the porcelain bowl to his palm, bringing a rare touch of warmth.

He looked out the window.

The torrential rain continues.

The darkness remains.

But in this darkness and torrential rain, at least one light is still on.

At least... they are safe for now.

Six hours.

He took a sip of the porridge, and the warmth of the rice porridge slid down his throat, temporarily dispelling the chill in his body.

Six hours later, they will face another choice.

And now...

He needs rest.

I need to recover my strength.

We need to prepare for the battle six hours from now.