Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Austin gestured for someone to deliver it.

Black Star took the book, flipped through two pages, and his expression changed slightly.

Oro also leaned over to look, and the more he looked, the more his brows furrowed.

Only Oin initially showed some disdain, but when his gaze fell on the words "Remains of Life", "Blue Sacred Well" and "Former Site of Black Dove Church", his pupils couldn't help but shrink.

For the first time, Austin's expression truly turned somber.

"You dug this thing out of Scamay?"

"Um."

Xilun said in a calm tone, "That flower field last night wasn't just for growing flowers, nor was it just for selling floral foam."

"They're trying to feed something out."

"To be more precise, we are looking for a crack leading to the remains of life."

The hall was deathly silent.

Even the servants who poured the tea quietly made their movements much gentler.

As Oin stared at the black book, the slight bitterness and contempt on his face finally faded, replaced by a more genuine solemnity.

He wasn't unaware of the relics.

It was only because I had heard it that I understood what those two words meant.

Once that thing is confirmed, it will no longer be a matter of a few dead people and a few acres of flower fields in a small town.

Oro couldn't help but ask, "Is what's on this page credible?"

"At least, the Scamay mother plant is real."

Xilun looked at him, "And last night I saw the actual objects of the several paths mentioned in the book about blood nourishment, vocal nourishment, and root inheritance."

"If you'd like, you can go and smell that field of dead flowers for yourself."

Oro's Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't say anything more.

Black Star slowly closed the tattered book, looked up at Xilun, and for the first time, his tone lacked the composure that a family official was usually known for.

"You want to use Tusol's information to provoke the Black Dove Church?"

"right."

"Do you know what will happen to the North District if you expose this, if it really is a case of a life lost?"

"Know."

Xilun tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "That's why I'm here to ask for resources, not to tell you to prepare to collect the corpses."

That was said so casually that it made people feel uneasy.

Oin's expression changed several times, and he suddenly cursed under his breath.

"madman……"

Despite the insults, the disdain in his eyes had completely disappeared.

Whether Sirion cleared the way for the armed insurgents is no longer so important.

The important thing is that this young man might actually be holding a big secret.

It's a line that determines who gets to eat the meat first, or who gets their throat bitten off first.

Austin remained silent for a long time before finally speaking slowly.

"The Yin Spirit Source Water is now rare in our family."

"I can give you two bottles first, and then prepare a batch of Cold Marrow supplements for you, enough for your short-term cultivation."

"You can spend half a day in the archives room looking at the old parish map, monastery files, and underground watercourse map; Black Star will accompany you."

"As for those who specialize in life-related magic..."

He paused, then tapped his knuckles lightly on the table.

"There are no high-level scholars in the family who specialize in this field, but there is an elderly archive clerk who did record things with the parish survey team when he was young. He may not be able to help you decipher the spell, but he knows a lot about the origins of those abandoned churches and old wells in the North District."

Xilun nodded: "That's enough."

Oin turned his head sharply and looked at Austin.

"Chieftain!"

"Just give it to him like that?"

"Leaving aside the Yin Spirit Source Water, those sets of leyline maps in the side room are—"

"But what?"

Austin looked at him, his tone not harsh, yet carrying weight, "If what Siron said is true, those drawings in the cabinet are just paper. If they're fake, he won't be able to dig up any relics even with the drawings."

"Moreover,"

Austin's gaze fell back on Siron, and he smiled enigmatically. "He didn't take it for nothing."

Xilun looked up.

Austin continued, "Tusor provides the resources. If you really manage to uncover something from the Black Dove Church, the family will have firsthand information and priority in negotiations."

"If you can agree, then take it."

"We cannot agree to this. That's all the resources we have for today."

This is more like doing business.

Xilun did not answer immediately.

The echo chamber vibrated slightly deep in his throat. He could even hear the suppressed fire in Oin's breath, the faint sound of Oro's nails digging into his palm, and the gentle tightening of his knuckles under the black star chair armrest.

Everyone in the hall has their own agenda.

But that's normal.

It would be abnormal not to have an abacus.

After a moment, Xilun spoke.

"First-hand information is acceptable."

"Priority participation—let's see what you can do."

Oin couldn't help but say coldly, "You really dare to speak up."

Xilun looked at him, his eyes cold.

"If I dared to enter the flower field last night, I certainly dare to speak up today."

"Like I said, I'm not here to beg."

After he said that, the hall suddenly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Oro paused for a moment, and inexplicably found that this sentence was more hurtful than any harsh words.

Because it wasn't out of spite, but a fact.

This young man, who fought his way up from the bottom, is no longer the same person who was left out in the main hall drinking cold tea.

He's sitting here now, asking Tusol for water, maps, files, and people, not because he's shameless.

It's because he can really lift it and he really dares to do it.

Austin stared at Xilen for a few moments, then suddenly laughed.

"it is good."

"Get it for him."

The butler standing nearby was startled, quickly bowed in agreement, and hurried away.

Oin's face turned ashen, but he didn't say anything more, only clenching his teeth tightly.

Black Star slowly exhaled, stood up and said, "The side office is in the back building, I'll take you there."

Xilun stood up and put the book "White Sprout Prayer" back into his pocket.

Before stepping out of the main hall, he suddenly stopped and looked back at Oin.

"Oh, right."

Oin's eyes were icy: "Is there anything else?"

"If you're really worried that I'm paving the way for armed insurgents,"

Siren said calmly, "Then let's pray that the ground beneath the Black Dove Church is just a rotten patch of land."

"Otherwise, no matter who I pave the way for, someone will have to go in first and step on the blood first."

After saying that, he didn't linger and turned to leave.

Oin sat there, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, and after a long while, he finally uttered a low voice.

"This kid..."

Oro stood behind him, gazing in the direction Xilun had left, his mind a jumble of complex emotions.

Shock, anger, jealousy, envy, and a shock that even he himself was unwilling to admit, all mixed together, making his chest feel heavy.

As Black Star accompanied Xilun through the corridor, the autumn breeze was just right.

Several Tusor family members who were passing by saw this from afar and stopped in their tracks, looking surprised.

They certainly recognized Xilun.

He also recognized the key to the side office in Black Star's hand.

Even many of his close associates couldn't get into that place on ordinary days.

But now, this person who was not registered under a surname not only entered, but also took away two bottles of Yin Spirit Source Water and a set of Cold Marrow Supplements.

If the news gets out, it's likely to cause another uproar in the manor.

Black Star glanced at Xilun and suddenly said, "With your words today, you've offended the Oin lineage even more."

West Ham's progress has not stopped.

"It's not like I only offended him today."

Black Star was taken aback, then burst into laughter.

"That's true."

The two walked to the back building, where the iron gate slowly opened, and the smell of old paper and dust wafted out.

Rows of wooden cabinets reaching the ceiling stood silently in the darkness, like a small cemetery burying the bones of the old era.

Black Star stepped aside and whispered, "What you're looking for is probably all here."

Xilun raised his eyes and looked at the entire row of silent filing cabinets.

At that moment, the echo resonated softly again.

It was as if something was waiting for him to uncover these yellowed pages, old church maps, and secrets buried by time.

……

When the iron door of the side room closed, most of the sound of the wind in the outer corridor was blocked out.

It was dark, dry, and filled with the smell of old paper and insect repellent powder, like a coffin that had been sealed for many years being pried open again.

There were rows of tall cabinets on both sides, their legs worn smooth by time, and a thin layer of dust on their brass locks.

Several gas lamps hung from the beam, their flames flickering slightly, casting long shadows of the cabinet.

Black Star walked ahead, carrying a bunch of keys that jingled in his hand.

"What's stored here isn't just the old parish map."

He glanced back at Xilun. "There are also copies of the investigation teams from the North District over the years, records of the confiscated churches, mine collapse cases, epidemic files, underground water vein maps... What you're looking for may not be in the same place."

Xilun nodded without saying anything more.

The echo chamber vibrated gently deep within the throat.

Suddenly, it was as if another thin curtain had been drawn back around us, and the faint creaking of the gas lamp, the scraping of the black star-studded boot heels against the stone floor, and the clattering of the damp pages in the wooden cabinet all became clear.

The sounds were chaotic, yet honest. The less someone touched a file, the deeper the noise; the more frequently a file was handled, the looser the friction between the corners of the paper.

This ability isn't suitable for flipping through books, but once you settle down, it has its own uses.

Black Star handed the key to an old man sitting at the table at the far end of the room.

The old man was as thin as an old wooden pole dried by the wind, his hair was almost entirely white, and he wore a monocle with a chain hanging down his chest.

He didn't get up immediately, but slowly put down his quill and glanced at Xilun with his cloudy but steady gaze.

"Is it him?"

"It's him," Black Star said. "You must have heard about what happened at the Scarmay flower field last night."

The old man grunted, as if he had a piece of old sandpaper pressing down on his throat.

"I heard some of it, and it was even more bizarre than what a choir would say."

He held out his spotted hand. "Let me see the book."

Xilun took out the "White Sprout Prayer Record - Fragment" and placed it on the table.

The old man didn't touch the cover. He stared at the booklet for a few moments, as if trying to identify something, before finally turning to the first page.

He had only turned two pages when his eye twitched violently, and his previously slouching back slowly straightened.

Black Star noticed his change and his voice deepened.

"You recognize it?"

"I recognize a little bit."

The old man swallowed hard, his dry, cracked fingers tracing the edges of the pages. "It's not a complete book, it's a patchwork of fragments... The second half has some erroneous additions by the choir themselves, but the first half doesn't seem like a forgery."

At least these few pages use the same language as the Old Life Cult regarding the White Sprout Prayer, the Cleansing Well Method, and the Rejuvenation of Flesh and Earth.

Black Star's eyes narrowed.

"The Cult of Life?"

"To be more precise, it is a branch of the study of life techniques in the old church."

The old man closed the book halfway, not completely sealing it off. "Back when the North District wasn't as dirty and chaotic as it is now, the parish investigation team had people specifically tasked with dealing with filthy wells, rotten plants, and underground fissures."

They weren't all knights; some were scholars, some were sorcerers, and a very few... were capable of pulling "living things" back to life.

Xilun spoke up: "You can even handle filth?"

The old man looked up at him, and for the first time, there was a genuine scrutiny in his old eyes.

"Why do you think the choir specifically targets these old churches, old wellheads, and dilapidated areas next to old graves?"

"Because those places are dirty?"

"No."

The old man shook his head, "Because those places were once washed."

The room fell silent.

The flame of the gas lamp flickered, making a soft crackling sound.

The old man stood up, pulled out three rolls of leather files and a thickly folded old map from the cabinets closest to the wall behind him, returned to the table, and spread them out one by one.

Volume One, the cover was already brittle, and on it was written in faded ink—"Summary of the Investigation of the Eastern Route of Qingshengjing".

Volume Two contains records of diseases in the mines.

The third volume contains a fragmented diagram of the construction of a parish prayer hall.

Black Star also approached, his expression much more serious than before.

The old man turned to the middle of the first volume and tapped a line of text with his fingernail.

Look here.

Xilun bent down to look.

The paper contained a record of an investigation conducted more than 20 years ago.

In a small town on the east side of the North District, the well water suddenly turned black. Livestock that drank the water suffered from bloating and tongue sores, and people who came into contact with the mud around the well experienced high fever, auditory hallucinations, and cracked skin.

Ordinary medicines are ineffective, and even fire can only suppress the symptoms temporarily.

Later, the investigation team arrived and first sealed the well. Then, they cleaned the well walls for three days and nights with a kind of "white sprout prayer" ritual. Finally, they dragged out a clump of black flesh covered with white roots from the bottom of the well and burned it. Only then did the disease stop.

Xilun's pupils narrowed slightly.

The description between the lines and the plant under the Scamay flower field were not the same thing, yet they had a similar fishy smell.

It's not just a simple poison, not a plague, and not an ordinary mutant.

It is living filth.

Black Star understood as well, and whispered, "So the choir's blood-nourishing and voice-nurturing system isn't just a random experiment... they know what they're feeding."

"Knowing only half of it is even more terrifying."

The old man sneered, "Knowing one page doesn't mean you've mastered the art. These days, choirs just love to twist legitimate techniques into something wicked."

The white buds were originally meant to save the flesh and cleanse the well, but in their hands, they insisted on using them to grow flowers, feed ditches, and irrigate with the bones of the dead.

As he spoke, he pushed the second volume in front of Xilun.

"Look at this one too."

That was a record of a mine collapse. The lower mine tunnel encountered a damp fault, and afterwards, the workers began to experience symptoms such as hearing soft singing in their ears, graying fingernails, bleeding gums, and sleepwalking at night.

At the end of the record, there was an extra, very faint marginal note: "Suspected active contamination seeping from the edge of the ruins, praying that the sacred buds are temporarily suppressed, not completely eradicated."

Pray for the sacred bud.

Xilun's gaze lingered on those four words, remaining fixed for a long time.

The resonant cavity in the throat trembled very slightly, as if something had plucked it.

He thought of Robert.

I recall the dark lines spreading beneath that person's skin, the uncomfortable dampness and coldness, and how the pollution, like a worm, lurked deep within the flesh, not rushing to devour the person, but slowly nibbling and gradually changing them.

At that time, he only knew that pollution was terrible, but he didn't know if there was a second way.

Now, these four words on the paper are like a tiny flame suddenly igniting in the darkness.

It's not big, but it's big enough for people to see their way.

Black Star noticed his silence and glanced at him sideways.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I miss someone."

Xilun didn't elaborate, only calmly saying, "If this technique can truly purify pollution, then its value is probably more than just the Black Dove Church."

The old man squinted.

"You want to learn?"

"Can I learn it?"