Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

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I couldn't resist ordering a new guitar during the National Day holiday. Now I've spent all my savings and have no money for food. Tomorrow I'll go see if the ice cream shop where I used to work part-time still wants me (hush)

This ain't no rock 'n' roll, this is fucking consumerism persecuting me (Boo)

Interlude: GTA Limited-Time Crossover: Battle of Folpol: 5. Big-ass Word

The car engine let out a low roar, the car body trembled slightly, and then glided forward steadily. Outside the car window, the evening streets of Los Angeles gradually sank into the dim neon lights, and the dilapidated billboards and wet asphalt on the street reflected the city's fatigue. Xing Qingqi's hands were firmly on the steering wheel, and his eyes occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Miguel leaned lazily on the seat, one hand resting on the window, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if observing the scene outside the car. Daniel, sitting next to him, was frowning at this moment, his right hand covering his chest, and he took a deep breath.

"Daniel," Xing Qingfeng noticed his subconscious action and asked with a hint of concern, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Darnell glanced up at him and gave him a small grin, trying to appear relaxed despite the pain in his chest. "It's okay, the armor took it," he said, rubbing his chest gently. "Maybe just a little bruising, it should be fine in a couple of days."

Miguel chuckled, his voice low and hoarse in the car. "Haha, Xing, it's been ages." He turned his head and glanced at the driver's seat with a teasing expression. "I still remember the first time I saw you, you were driving that rickety car and ran over the drug dealer. That one run wiped out all the leads we'd been collecting for three months—"

"—and now, oh my god, how did you manage to drive that fast and crash into it and only break a few bones?"

"Ha, otherwise why would I be your informant?" Xing Qingfeng replied cheerfully, his laughter mingling with the hum of the engine. "As for how you did it now? I can only tell you that this kind of thing requires more practice."

"Damn it, how many people did you hit?" Daniel casually took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, but found that it was already empty. After Xing Qingqi saw it through the rearview mirror - in fact, he had been distractedly staring at the back, especially the movement in the trunk - while driving, his hand quickly reached into the pocket of James in the passenger seat, skillfully took out half a pack of cigarettes and handed it to Daniel in the back seat.

"Hey, not only did you swindle me out of my last fifty bucks, you're also taking my last half pack of cigarettes?" James yelled, but didn't stop Xing Qingqiu. "But from what you just said, it seems like you guys worked a case together in Los Angeles a few years ago?"

"Of course." Xing Qingqiu's voice was filled with casual amusement, his fingers tapping the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. The neon lights on the streets flashed a colorful light, reflecting the city's hustle and bustle and indifference on the car window. He continued, "Well, at the time, I was doing some 'research' on the West Coast of North America—you know, I don't like drug dealers."

"So during that time, I basically killed everyone I met." His tone was as casual as if he was discussing tonight's dinner, not life or death. "Then one day, I was driving my car and ran over a bastard, and these two guys suddenly jumped out and said I ruined their three-month investigation."

"Ha, you know, we were so close to getting the evidence!" Miguel leaned back in his seat, pulled a cigarette from his case, rubbed the butt with his thumb, and gently held it between his lips. The cigarette wasn't even lit, but his voice was thick with the regret and helplessness of the memory. "And then we watched that bastard get run over by a junky pickup truck without doors, and he died instantly."

"Hmm, I do think it's my fault." Xing Qingqiu paused, his hand casually adjusting the rearview mirror. "So, as compensation, I became an informant for the DEA and spent some time digging up Los Angeles from top to bottom—"

"—We kicked out this drug den," Daniel chuckled, leaning lazily against the seat. Smoke drifted from his mouth and blended into the dull air in the car. The cigarette butt in his hand flicked out of the window with his movements, and the spark flashed in the wind. "It's that simple."

"Ha, I didn't expect so many drug addicts to pop up in Los Angeles just a few years ago." Xing Qingyu shook his head as he drove. His hands were firmly on the steering wheel, but his tone revealed a hint of helplessness.

"I still remember when we caught those drug addicts, a few guys were lying quietly in the hospital," he chuckled at the memory. "We sat by one of them's bedside, looking at him, asking him if the view was good, if the TV was big enough, and how the hospital food was. We told him we hoped everything was okay, because it wouldn't be this comfortable anymore."

Miguel's mocking laugh echoed from the backseat, and he nodded, continuing, "That old bastard's still on his bed, talking about being a decent fisherman and all that bullshit, and he's going to see his lawyer." He tapped his cigarette against the window, and the ash fell outside like dust on the wind. "And then we told him, 'Eddie, you're in big trouble.'"

Daniel leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed, his tone tinged with nostalgia. "We also told him that seizing so much cargo would result in the death penalty in some states, especially Texas. We made it very clear to him that if he went to Texas, he would be dead."

"Ha, all that talk is pointless." Xing Qingfan shook his head, a playful smile still on his lips. "That guy was sent to Texas and sentenced to death. The whole process, he was unwilling to give up his boss. In the end, I had to do it myself and dig that bastard out of Mexico—"

"—Uh-huh, you didn't even bring any evidence, and you didn't even tell us, you just ran over and shot him." Miguel said. Although he was a DEA agent, neither of them seemed to have any objection to Xing Qingfeng's lynching. "Honestly, you're the most crazy Asian guy we've ever seen."

"Thanks for the compliment." Xing Qingfeng smiled and shook his head. The car drove steadily in the night, and the buildings on both sides of the street quickly passed by. "So, what do you say about this bastard we caught this time?"

"Same thing as before, send him to a fucking clean and comfortable hospital ward, slowly compile the evidence, tell him he'll be punished for a while if he doesn't give up the boss, and then finally send him to another state and execute him directly?"

A heavy feeling suddenly filled the air, and the original lightness was replaced by an invisible layer of oppression. The engine noise inside the car seemed to become even more dull.

"Xing." Miguel took a deep drag on his cigarette and slowly exhaled a stream of gray smoke. The reflection from the car window cast a dim shadow on his face. His voice was low and a little tired. "It's not possible now."

Xing Qingqiu rested one hand on the steering wheel and tapped the gear lever with the other. Daniel's figure appeared in the rearview mirror. Daniel leaned back in the back seat, his eyes narrowed, staring tiredly at the rapidly receding street scene outside the window. The light cast several shadows on his face.

"The drug addict we caught last time told us two words." Daniel's tone was surprisingly calm, as if he was talking about something insignificant, but the suppressed helplessness almost overflowed from his words. "Two big words."

"Big-ass word, huh." Miguel lifted his cigarette slightly, the ashes falling gently between his fingers. He sneered, his tone tinged with sarcasm. His eyes blurred for a moment in the gray smoke as he spoke, "One is called forced confession, and the other is called pardon."

A brief silence fell in the car. Xing Qingyu whipped his head around, staring intently at the two people in the back seat. He even forgot to touch the accelerator or the steering wheel. The car lurched across the empty road, its front wheels running over a pile of scattered paper, making a slight jarring sound.

"...Damn it." Xing Qingqi gritted his teeth and whispered, "You guys are not going to tell me that he really got pardoned, are you?"

Daniel slowly turned his head, his eyes still fixed on the window.

"We didn't get to shoot him, you know? The judge at the time was an old friend, the one who had met President Reagan," he said, his tone tinged with self-mockery and resignation, as if discussing a foregone conclusion. "But we didn't get to shoot him."

"When did it start? After California passed the medical marijuana bill."

Miguel stubbed out his cigarette fiercely against the edge of the car window, making a subtle hiss. His eyes, under the dim light of the car, seemed even darker, revealing a hint of indifference and disappointment.

"Bush isn't even paying attention to this," he said, his gaze slowly withdrawing from the street outside the window, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "A few thousand DEA agents, and they're supposed to be managing the entire United States? Ha, it's a joke."

"Damn it, I don't want to talk about this anymore." Miguel shook his head, his eyes showing a bit of fatigue and boredom. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back slightly, as if trying to temporarily escape from this topic. "By the way, Xing, what are you planning to do in the United States again?"

"Take James and smuggle him out of FBI custody." Xing Qingyu's voice was as calm as ever.

"...What?" Daniel's brows suddenly frowned, his tone full of disbelief.

"Just take this guy—" Xing Qingyu raised his chin and pointed at James sitting in the passenger seat. James remained silent, his hands folded on his knees, his eyes looking forward, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him, "—smuggle out."

"Damn it!" Miguel suddenly leaned out of the back seat and quickly opened the trunk lid. He glanced at the unconscious drug dealer and was relieved after confirming that everything was normal. He sat back down in his seat, his tone filled with disbelief and anger. "You just said that? We are both DEA!"

"I never lie to my friends." Xing Qingyu held the steering wheel with a faint smile on his face. His eyes briefly glanced at the two people in the rearview mirror, his expression unchanged. "What? Are you planning to report me?"

"I'm not interested." Darnell crossed his arms, his head lazily leaning against the car window. His gaze passed through the dim light on the window, resting on the flowing street scene outside. A hint of disdain lingered in his voice. "The FBI has done so many stupid things, and they're even suspicious of my beloved Hemingway."

"Hemingway?" Miguel raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "So, what did this guy—" he raised his chin, motioning to James in the passenger seat, "—do? Let me guess, since he's involved with a Chinese like you, he's probably accused of collaborating with the Communists, right?"

"Correct!" Xing Qingqiu whistled cheerfully, clapping his hands lightly on the steering wheel, looking extremely pleased with himself. "Plus, he's been accused of threatening national security and leaking secrets. The FBI has accused him of many things."

"Damn it." James finally spoke. He slowly turned his head and glanced at Xing Qingqiu. "How come you are more familiar with the accusations against me than I am myself?"

"Ha, that's what they say to everyone they catch," Miguel sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. His eyes wandered to the street outside the car window, where the lights flashed by, casting a flickering shadow on his face. He waved his hand and said lazily, "Stop the car. We're here. We'll take this guy to the hospital ourselves."

Hearing this, Xing Qingfeng slowly pulled over, his hands firmly on the steering wheel. The tires gently rolled over the gravel on the roadside, making a subtle grinding sound. He stopped the car quickly, turned off the engine, and turned to look at the two people in the back seat. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

Miguel chuckled, took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and took a deep puff. "Don't worry, it's just an unconscious poisonous insect. It's no big deal for us." He shrugged and exhaled a puff of smoke.

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After seeing off the two DEA agents, Xing Qingfeng steered the car, deftly weaving through the streets. Neon lights cast a dazzling array of colors on the windows. After several turns, he entered a narrow alleyway and finally stopped in front of a rolling door. A faded sign on the door identified it as a car modification shop. The surroundings were somewhat gloomy, with the faint sounds of barking dogs and the chatter of street dwellers audible.

"This is it," James said, looking around the car. His eyes swept over the surrounding streets and he frowned. "Where are you going to repaint your car? It looks like the door isn't open, though."

"Yes, hold on a moment. I need to call my uncle," Xing Qingyu said as he pulled out his phone and gently pressed the dial button. "You said you'd wait for me..." Less than half a minute after the call was made, the rolling door in front of them suddenly creaked with a dull sound and was quickly pulled open. A burly, middle-aged man, chopsticks in hand, poked his head out and glanced at them, a surprised smile on his face.

"Huh, what a coincidence?" Uncle Liu asked in his heavily accented Chinese. "If I had known, I would have cooked a few more dishes."

"Oh, Uncle Liu," Xing Qingyu responded quickly, a smile on his face. "Something happened just now, so I was delayed. I'm sorry to have stopped you from eating."

"No, no, no," Uncle Liu said, waving his hand. "Come in quickly! I just made some soup. I don't want you to wait too long."

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I wrote in Cantonese, so there shouldn't be any big problems. I'm from northern China, so I'm not sure if my Cantonese is authentic. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Thanks to my fellow book friends for their corrections. I have revised the Cantonese part. Thank you!

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

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I found a temporary computer to code, but the configuration of this thing makes it jam when I open Word. Do you know how desperate I was when I found that the mouse jammed when I moved it? (Big shush)

But the ice cream shop still wanted me, which was great. The Haagen-Dazs shop was a good place with few people, little to do, a comfortable environment, and decent pay. It was the perfect part-time job.

Interlude: GTA Limited-Time Crossover: Battle of Foboler: 6. Worship Guan Gong

Xing Qingfeng slowly drove into the garage. The headlights pierced the dim interior, casting flickering shadows on the ground. The tires scraped against the concrete, making a gentle grinding sound, especially piercing in the silence. The sound seemed to stir the long-still air, accompanied by the smell of motor oil and rusty metal. The garage's odor was somewhat unpleasant, a faint odor of motor oil mixed with rust, and the air was slightly damp. But surprisingly, the floor was spotless, with only a few wet marks from mopping that hadn't yet dried completely.

A row of wrenches, screwdrivers, and various other repair tools sat neatly on the garage's tool rack. A few greasy parts lay haphazardly piled nearby, creating a stark contrast to the neatly arranged tools. Several greasy oil tanks sat crooked in a corner, seemingly poised to leak at any moment. The main lights were off, leaving only a small bulb in the corner emitting a faint orange glow. The dim light barely outlined the garage's outline, casting a few mottled shadows in the air.

"Okay, you can park here. Wait a minute, I'll call someone." Uncle Liu stood at the garage door and gestured to Xing Qingjiu to park the car against the wall. As Xing Qingjiu turned off the engine, the only sound in the garage was the faint hum of the orange light.

Uncle Liu pushed open a half-closed door and, with the echo of his leather shoes, walked straight into the inner room. A moment later, he returned to the car with two young men. The two men, wearing greasy work clothes, chatted quietly while observing Xing Qing's car, glancing at it from time to time.

"Okay, let's wait for the guys to finish it." Uncle Liu nodded, signaling the workers to begin work. According to the process, repainting the car from start to finish would take several days, and Xing Qingfeng didn't want to delay it that long. He had already asked Old Qiao to prepare a complete set of new body panels and sent them to Uncle Liu in advance. The current task was to remove the body panels and replace the repainted parts one by one.

"Just let these guys watch," Uncle Liu waved to the young men, signaling them to get to work. He patted Xing Qingjiu's shoulder and said, "You know the rules here, but you still have to follow the procedures."

Xing Qingfeng nodded and followed Uncle Liu through a small door into a dimly lit corridor. They walked straight into a small, small room, the air faintly scented with the aroma of burning incense. In the center of the room stood an antique altar. Atop the exquisitely carved mahogany altar sat a statue of Guan Gong, its blade pointed downward.

"I remember this Guan Erye statue wasn't enshrined in the main hall before?" Xing Qingjiu looked around, confirming that this statue was the same one he had seen before. Curious, he asked, "Why is there a separate room dedicated to it?"

"I wanted to have a baby two years ago, but I'm getting old. My wife and I had sex for six months, but she still hadn't gotten pregnant," Uncle Liu sighed, looking helpless. "So I invited a statue of Guanyin to come over."

"But the offerings to Guan Gong contain meat and fish, so they're not suitable to be placed together with the Bodhisattva." Uncle Liu scratched his head, sighed slightly, and glanced at the Guan Gong statue on the altar. "So only one can be placed in the hall."

"But I see there is no Guanyin statue in the hall now?" Xing Qingwu asked after hearing this.

"Oh, if we invite a Bodhisattva, we have to move Guan Gong to a smaller room. That wouldn't be fair. Guan Gong hates those who are not fair the most." Uncle Liu waved his hand. "But inviting a Bodhisattva here means we're asking for something, and it's not appropriate to have Guan Gong in the main hall and a Bodhisattva in the smaller room."

"So we decided to enshrine them in separate rooms," Uncle Liu continued. "Also, Guan Yu has a strong murderous aura, so it wouldn't be appropriate to enshrine him in the main hall after my wife is pregnant. (It certainly wasn't suitable to be in the main hall after my wife became pregnant either.)" He gently patted the altar table and added, as if muttering to himself, "After my wife gives birth, I'll move Guan Yin to the rooms and return Guan Yu to the main hall."

At this point, he carefully bent down, opened the small drawer under the altar, and took out a pair of red-lacquered crescent-shaped crafts made from shells. The surface of the shells was smooth and shiny, and under the light, they glowed a faint red.

"I've asked Guan Gong about this," he said, looking up at the statue on the altar, and continued slowly, "At that time, Guan Gong gave me two laughing cups and a holy cup, so of course he agreed. (At that time, Guan Gong gave me two laughing cups and a holy cup, so of course he agreed.)"

"Even though we've known each other for a long time, I still have to follow the proper procedures to help you with this," Uncle Liu said as he carefully removed the burnt incense stick from Guan Gong's presence, respectfully lit a new one, and gently inserted it into the incense burner. "Don't worry, Qingjiu, you're a good person and wouldn't do anything wrong. Guan Gong will definitely approve."

After saying this, Uncle Liu clasped his hands together, held a pair of crescent-shaped divination blocks in his palms, and bowed to the statue of Guan Yu. He circled the divination blocks twice over the incense sticks before carefully withdrawing his hands.

"Saint Lord Guandi, should I help you with this?" He muttered, and then threw the dice blocks on the table.

——Two sides facing upwards, a smiling cup.

"Do you want me to ask again?" Uncle Liu frowned and muttered, then explained to the Guan Gong statue, "Yes, it's the Xing Qing Wa who busted the biggest drug ring in Los Angeles a few years ago. He wasn't a bad guy, he just wanted to sneak his friends out of the country."

After saying this, Uncle Liu cast the dice again.

——Another laughing cup.

"...Who exactly is this friend of yours?" Uncle Liu turned to look at Xing Qingjiu, "Why did Guan Gong ask me to ask again?"

"A former American astronaut, forced to retire during his service, and has been under FBI surveillance," Xing Qingqiu added after a moment's thought. "He's been accused of threatening national security, leaking secrets, and collaborating with the Communist Party."

"Holy Lord Guan Yu, you heard what I just said," Uncle Liu bowed to the statue of Guan Yu again and said respectfully, "I hope you can give me some advice."

But the result of the third toss of the Holy Grail was a Yin cup, with two convex sides facing up, which meant no.

"Well, if that's the case," Uncle Liu said, turning to look at Xing Qingjiu. "Then you'll have to formally pay your respects to Guan Gong. And before you know it, if the Holy Lord Guan doesn't allow it, I absolutely won't help you."

"Wait a minute," Xing Qingwu couldn't help but ask, "So what were we doing just now?"

"We're just going through the motions. Who knew you were so unlucky that you couldn't even produce a Holy Grail?" Uncle Liu curled his lips and waved his hand helplessly. "Guan Gong doesn't even know we're asking him now. He'll know after we've burned three incense sticks."

"...Huh?" Xing Qing was a little confused, and it took him a while to react. "But I remember you always lit one incense stick before?"

"That's right. Back home, it's fine to do that," Uncle Liu said with a smile, adjusting the red cloth on the altar. "But we're in America now. Do you think worshipping a statue of Guan Gong is that easy? If I don't light three incense sticks, I can't even connect to my thought circle."

"Besides, there are so many people worshipping Guan Gong. He has his eyes closed. He won't just glance at you and hear you every time." At this point, Uncle Liu sighed, lowered his head to sort out the divination blocks, and slowly explained, "With so many people and so many things going on, who would bother disturbing him for everything?"

"If you ask too many questions, it'll be a joke if the Holy Grail breaks." He paused, then added, "If it's not a big deal, who would light three incense sticks?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Uncle Liu leaned over and gently pulled open a small drawer beneath the altar. The drawer creaked softly, revealing offerings within: an incense burner, paper money, a small cinnabar jar, scattered talismans, and candlesticks. The air was thick with the ancient aroma of sandalwood and ash. Uncle Liu's fingertips shuffled the items, his movements gentle and cautious. Finally, he pulled out three slender incense sticks—they were deep red, smooth, and had a delicate sheen, faintly permeating the deep fragrance of sandalwood.

"At this point, I won't be asking for you anymore; you can burn the incense yourself." Uncle Liu's tone was even more serious than before as he handed Xing Qingjiu the incense sticks and divination blocks. Then, he slowly moved aside, making room for Xing Qingjiu in front of the altar. Pointing at the altar, he nodded and whispered, "Be serious! After you light three incense sticks, Guandi will truly be watching you."

Xing Qingjiu took the incense sticks. He stared at them intently, rubbing them lightly between his fingertips. He could clearly feel the texture of the incense and the magical power that seemed to be infused within them.

——A typical magic ritual prop.

He nodded slightly, slowly raised the incense stick, and slowly walked towards the dim lamp in the corner. The light flickered and made a subtle crackling sound. He slowly brought the incense stick closer to the lamp, and the flame instantly jumped. A red light suddenly flashed, and the three incense sticks ignited almost simultaneously, emitting a faint glow.

The flame quickly died out, leaving only a wisp of smoke rising from the incense tip, curling in the air like a thin thread drifting through the air. The scent of sandalwood gradually spread, filling every corner of the room.

Xing Qingqiu clasped his hands together, gently raised the lit incense stick to his brow, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. The faint scent of sandalwood passed through his nostrils and penetrated deep into his heart. He bowed slightly and respectfully saluted the statue of Guan Gong.

After straightening up, Xing Qingfeng slowly inserted three incense sticks into the incense burner. The moment they were inserted, the burning incense suddenly accelerated, and the smoke instantly became thicker and spread rapidly. The smoke lingered in the room, instantly filling the entire place.

The statue of Guan Gong appears even more majestic in the smoke. The thick green smoke completely envelopes the statue of Guan Gong. Guan Gong's majestic face is looming, especially his slightly closed eyes, which seem to be about to open at any time, giving people a feeling of being watched.

"Wow, Guan Gong is showing his power!" Uncle Liu suddenly raised his head, his eyes fixed on the rising smoke, his eyes filled with surprise and excitement. He couldn't help but blurt out, "Handsome boy, Guan Gong really likes you! He can show his power in America! I've never seen anything like this when I worship Guan Gong back home!"

When Xing Qingjiu received the incense stick, he anticipated its sudden acceleration. If it were just that simple, Uncle Liu would definitely not be so surprised to shout that Guan Gong had appeared. So he raised his head and carefully observed the surrounding environment and the Guan Gong statue in front of him.

The tip of the sword on the Guan Gong statue had unexpectedly shifted from its originally downward-pointing position to pointing upward, gleaming with a faint cold light. Although the Guan Gong statue's eyes remained tightly closed, Xing Qingfeng felt a strong sense of being watched.

"Alright, throw the Holy Grail!" Uncle Liu leaned slightly to the side and urged, his tone hinting at urgency. "Don't keep Guan Gong waiting too long. Hurry up!"

"Saint Guan Yu," Xing Qingjiu whispered, holding the dice blocks in his hands and bowing slightly to the Guan Yu statue. "I want to smuggle a former astronaut who is being monitored by the Americans out of the United States. I hope Saint Guan Yu can give me some advice."

As soon as he finished speaking, Xing Qingjiu raised the divination blocks to his chest with both hands. He clasped his fingers firmly and with a flick of his wrist, the blocks arced through the air and landed gently on the altar. The two blocks rolled across the altar, making a slight clattering sound before finally coming to rest after a few seconds. Surprisingly, one was facing up, the other upside down, the Holy Grail.

Uncle Liu raised his eyebrows at this, a faint smile playing on his face. "Go ahead, throw it twice more." He stepped back slightly, standing to the side, his arms folded across his chest. "No need to add anything else, just throw it directly."

Xing Qingwu nodded, relaxing slightly. He leaned over, quickly retrieved the divination blocks, and took another deep breath. Steadily lifting them with both hands, he gently tossed them. Once again, the two blocks tumbled onto the altar, making a crisp clinking sound. The result was revealed again—one heads, one tails.

Xing Qingjiu took a deep breath and raised the divination blocks to his chest again. He threw them for the third time, and the blocks danced on the altar for a moment before finally stopping.

——Three times, all of them were the Holy Grail.

"Good! Good! Good!" Uncle Liu was stunned for a moment when he saw the result. Then he patted Xing Qingjiu's shoulder and laughed heartily. "Qingjiu, I really can't help you with this! (I have to help you with this!)"

Uncle Liu leaned over and rummaged through the drawer beneath the altar, his movements quick but a touch hurried. After a moment, he finally found what he was looking for—a small, delicate wine glass. He picked it up, shook it, and then pulled a bottle of tequila from under the table. He filled the glass with it, the golden liquid gleaming faintly in the dim light.