Chapter 2 — Mystery Locket
Cultivation world.
It was the fabled world of stories — where one could achieve anything, so long as they had the power and the will.
That's the common thought.
And in any world gripped by chaos, it holds true. Power and will are enough. But that only applies when the world is in a state of chaos.
The current age was something else entirely. It would be far more accurate to call it peaceful — an era of prosperity and order.
Somewhere in this world stood a great kingdom. A place made famous by its heroes, past and present. One that had endured countless wars, carved out peace through blood and iron, and stood unrivaled against the river of time.
The Luo Kingdom. Known as the Kingdom of Ancestors — of the past, present, and future. Formerly called the Lunare Kingdom.
It spanned tens of thousands of miles, with over a hundred districts and a thousand cities. Its architecture was a blend of the medieval and the near-modern. So was its fashion.
In one such city lived the Feng family.
Mist City.
★ — ★ — ★
The East Market.
It was one of the essential gathering places in the local area — fruits, vegetables, clothing, snacks, and daily necessities all found their home here. The flow of fresh goods was constant, and demand was just steady enough to keep both buyers and sellers smiling.
A peaceful place, by any measure. Stalls and shops opened at sunrise without fail.
This morning, the sellers were already out, organizing their goods along both sides of the cobbled street. Most had set up near trees — welcome shade in summer, though now, in autumn, those same trees shed their leaves freely across the stone.
The market didn't run in a straight line. It curved and branched, spiraling outward in subtle ways, quietly merging into the North Market and the urban districts beyond.
The sky had taken on a deep, muted blue — stars and moon still faintly visible, a pale glow just beginning to gather on the far eastern horizon. Dim light lay across the world. The only sound was the soft crunch of footsteps over fallen autumn leaves.
The shopkeepers and stall owners snapped to attention the moment they caught sight of two silhouettes at the far end of the street.
A customer!
No... two customers!
The figures of Feng Mei and Feng Han came into view.
One wore a light pink dress with a flowing slit skirt, her golden hair silk-smooth, her eyes the warm color of sunlight. The other wore golden-white robes with a single earring on his left ear, his black hair dark as night, his eyes deep as an abyss.
They looked like beings who had wandered down from the heavens.
The few early customers already making their rounds noticed them too. A moment of collective stillness — then, as if by reflex, heads bowed.
"Greetings, Young Miss. Greetings, Young Master."
Feng Han smiled and returned the greetings without hesitation. He had been to this market many times before — not alone, of course — and already knew most of the familiar faces.
Feng Mei, by contrast, responded with only a composed smile. She understood what it was. Respect tied to status, not sentiment. The moment that status disappeared, so would the courtesy. Still, genuine connections did form from time to time, and these people were being perfectly respectful — so a polite smile cost nothing.
"Young Master Feng. Out shopping today, or just passing through?" A short, middle-aged man asked cheerfully as he fell into step beside Feng Han.
"Nothing like that, Mr. Lu. My elder sister just returned home — we're spending some time together." Feng Han gestured toward Feng Mei with a broad smile.
Mr. Lu turned — and upon registering who exactly he was looking at, immediately bowed.
"Greetings, Young Miss. I am an artifact refiner, commonly called Mr. Lu around the market. I happened to cross paths with Young Master once when he was out shopping with his guards. Young Master has been gracious enough to remember me since." He delivered it all in one breath, leaving no opening for questions.
He was well aware that playing along with a child was one thing. Ending up on the wrong side of this Young Miss — or that Madam — was quite another. The difference between the two outcomes was considerable.
Feng Mei raised an eyebrow. Happened to cross paths — or engineered it? She didn't dwell on it. It didn't much matter either way.
She held his gaze just long enough to convey a single, wordless message.
We don't need a third wheel.
Mr. Lu got the message immediately. He laughed it off with practiced ease and offered Feng Han an apologetic smile.
"Young Master Feng, I won't keep you any longer. Forgive the interruption."
"Take care, Mr. Lu! Bye!!" Feng Han called back cheerfully, already moving ahead.
Today he was in a particularly good mood.
It had been a month since his ninth birthday — which meant the time had finally come. His elder sister had made him a promise, once, back when he was still an infant: that when he turned nine, she would give him something. Something mysterious.
He had no clear idea what it might be. His memories from his previous life suggested these things could go either way — a genuine wonder, or an elaborate prank. But he couldn't bring himself to believe his elder sister had spent nine years quietly planning a joke.
With that confidence firmly in place, he fell into step behind her, chin up, posture deliberately march-like.
The rest of the East Market passed without incident. It was early enough that only a handful of people were out for their daily necessities, and none of them offered any drama.
As Feng Han and Feng Mei moved further along, the surroundings shifted. The scent of earth and produce gave way to something sharper — metal, herbs, and the faint bitterness of burnt materials. The stalls and small shops were replaced by workshops and large industrial buildings. Flora thinned out. Smoke rose from chimneys in unhurried columns. The street beneath their feet changed from cobblestone to red brick.
The North Market.
Feng Han looked around with open curiosity. His mystery item was somewhere here — but which building? That large one? The one beside it? The one with the biggest gate?
He craned his neck at each one in turn, so thoroughly distracted that Feng Mei quietly took his hand so he wouldn't wander off.
She suppressed a sigh and a small laugh at the same time. Perhaps she shouldn't have filled his head with all those stories — heroes receiving unassuming little items that turned out to be world-shaking treasures. That had clearly lodged itself somewhere permanent.
But a promise was a promise. She tightened her grip on his hand and guided him toward the far end of the North Market.
This particular stretch of the North Market was one of the busiest areas in all of Mist City. Treasure Pavilions, restaurants, high-end boutiques, entertainment houses, banquet halls, taverns, museums, auction houses — everything was packed into this stretch. It was the natural haunt of the nobility, drawn by the concentration of rare and expensive goods.
Here, though, nobody paid Feng Han or Feng Mei particular attention. Wealthy and notable figures were common enough that their presence barely registered. Everyone had their own business. Few expected to bump into descendants of the Feng family on an ordinary morning.
It was the same reason why famous people could walk down an ordinary street without being recognized — sometimes, the last place anyone looks for someone remarkable is somewhere entirely normal.
"Wow. Elder Sister — the sun's barely up and it's already this crowded!" Feng Han said, genuinely awed.
He rarely came to the North Market. The East Market was his usual territory. In his entire nine years, he had been here only twice — once with his mother, once with his elder brother. This was his third visit, and first with his elder sister.
"Huhu. Now you understand why I said to come early." Feng Mei said with a hint of smugness.
"Right. Sis — where are we going exactly? You still haven't told me." Feng Han asked, scanning the street ahead and silently placing his bets.
Treasure Pavilion, most likely. Though the Auction House and the Fate Market were also classic candidates for mystery items, if the stories were anything to go by.
"You'll see~" Feng Mei said, her tone deliberately cryptic, and pointed ahead.
Feng Han followed her finger — and his eyes immediately lit up.
On the horizon, a massive tower rose and kept rising, its peak lost somewhere above the clouds. It looked like it could pierce through the sky entirely and come out the other side.
He tilted his head back, trying to find where it ended. He couldn't.
It reminded him of the towering buildings from his previous life — but this was something else. Something that didn't quite belong to the world of ordinary architecture.
A name surfaced in his mind the moment he saw it.
Nine Heavens Tower!
His eyes gleamed. He sped up without thinking, a cascade of half-formed fantasies already building behind his expression. Feng Mei watched it happen, smiled quietly to herself, and followed at an unhurried pace.
★ — ★ — ★
Half an hour later, they arrived.
The Nine Heavens Tower loomed before them — its steel gates massive, its guards armed and alert. Cold, watchful gazes swept over anyone who approached.
Feng Han stopped just short of the entrance. He had read the situation correctly. These guards were not the welcoming sort. Step forward without authorization and things would escalate quickly.
He turned to look at his sister.
Feng Mei was already scanning the perimeter with quiet, unhurried eyes. She noticed Feng Han looking and understood at once.
"You don't have your Identity Jade Plate on you? You should keep it with you at all times. Don't forget it next time." She folded back her sleeve, revealing a circular jade token tied at her wrist.
The design was striking — a fierce tiger's face, carved with the kind of detail that made it look less crafted and more alive. Its canine teeth dominated the lower half of the jade, curving like those of a saber-toothed tiger — a primal king of the wild. The eyes and teeth shimmered with a faint mystical light, as though the creature behind them was still hunting.
She untied it and presented it to the guard who appeared to be in charge.
He accepted it with both hands and examined it carefully.
Within a breath's time, he nodded firmly and returned it with a bent knee.
"We greet Young Miss Feng. You may enter the Nine Heavens Tower."
"Mm. This is my younger brother, Feng Han. He doesn't have his jade token on him today — that shouldn't be a problem, should it?" Feng Mei asked lightly, as though the answer were already obvious.
She had long since grown accustomed to being treated as a noble. It had stopped feeling like anything at all.
"This... should not be a problem." The guard considered it briefly.
He looked at the small figure beside Feng Mei. The resemblance was obvious, and her presence all but confirmed it. Still, he had a responsibility. The Nine Heavens Tower was not a place that could afford oversights.
"We greet Young Master Feng. You may enter as a guest under Young Miss Feng's invitation."
The phrasing was deliberate — if any issue arose from a false identity, the responsibility would fall on Feng Mei, not on him.
Feng Mei caught it. She didn't comment. She had expected something like this the moment she realized Feng Han had left his token behind.
"Let's go in." She stepped through the gate. Feng Han followed.
They walked for quite some time after that. Feng Han moved in a quiet daze the entire way.
Something felt off — or rather, something felt strangely familiar. The interior of the tower was flawless, its surfaces so polished they reflected like still water. The main hall branched out into staircases and elevator shafts in several directions. At the center sat a reception counter staffed by a pair — a beautiful young woman and a composed young man, both in fitted black suits.
Feng Mei approached.
"We have an appointment on Floor G. Reserved under the name Feng."
"One moment, please."
The woman checked the list.
"Yes — an appointment at 6 a.m. on Floor G, under the name Feng."
"Here's the ID." Feng Mei presented the jade token again.
"All confirmed! Welcome to the Nine Heavens Tower. We hope you have a wonderful visit!"
Both staff members spoke in perfect unison as the token was returned.
"Han'er. This way." Feng Mei said, moving toward the elevator.
Feng Han followed in silence. The strange feeling had not left him since they entered — the sense that he had been here before. Not in this life. The first time he had set foot in this tower since being reincarnated was today. He was certain of that. And yet.
He filed it away for now. Déjà vu from a past life, perhaps.
Feng Mei pressed a finger to a socket inside the elevator. A faint current ran through her fingertips and traced the letter G onto the panel.
The elevator descended.
When the doors opened, a wide hall stretched out before them, lit softly and sparsely. Several metallic display platforms were arranged throughout the space, each holding an artifact that gleamed with its own quiet light — like bait, designed to draw the eye and refuse to let go.
"Han'er. We're here." Feng Mei said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Go and pick a present. But remember — one item only, and don't touch anything unless you're certain you want it. No refunds."
Feng Han straightened up. The strange feeling melted away, replaced by something far more urgent.
His birthday gift.
Right. This was the moment he had been waiting for.
★ — ★ — ★
After a while.
Feng Han sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at three items he had set before himself.
The first was a dagger. Its spine was carved from a dragon's bone, its blade shaped from a dragon's tooth. It carried a bloody, vengeful aura — and most practically, it could resize itself to suit its wielder. Meaning it would still be usable when he was older.
The second was a trapezoid-shaped shard of deep aurous green, like a fragment broken off some enormous scaled creature — a variant dragon, perhaps. It offered passive defense against lethal attacks, neutralized poison, and slowly nurtured the body over time. Given that he had no cultivation and a constitution to match, this was arguably the most sensible choice.
The third was an ancient locket, tetrahedral in shape, engraved with intricate designs that had clearly once been more detailed than they now appeared. At its center sat an aqua-green gem, its light dull and dim — worn down, it seemed, by the slow erosion of time. A thin crimson chain ran through it. As for its function? Unknown. The item description said nothing at all.
These three stood out. Everything else had been either too demanding, ill-suited for his current state, or simply useless to him.
Feng Mei crouched beside him with an amused look.
"Can't decide? You want all three?"
Feng Han turned to her. "Elder Sister. It's a gift from you — why don't you choose for me?"
"Hmm. The dagger is decent. The shard would genuinely help you." She paused at the third. "But this locket? It has no listed features at all."
"I know... It's strange. I can't explain it well, but I feel like I should consider it. Like it might be useful to me somehow." Feng Han said, uncertain.
Feng Mei studied the locket for a moment.
"All right. Let's trust that feeling." she said.
"...Is that really okay?"
"Don't worry. I don't sense any harm from it."
"Okay."
Feng Han picked up the locket and put it on. It looked old and faintly eerie — and yet, somehow, it suited him. Like it had always been meant to hang around his neck.
"If that's settled, let's head back." Feng Mei said, rising to her feet.
★ — ★ — ★
At the gate of the Nine Heavens Tower, they stepped back out into the morning air.
Feng Han walked with a light step, satisfied in the way only someone who has received exactly the right gift can be — even if he wasn't entirely sure yet what that gift was.
Before long, he found himself standing in front of a lavish restaurant. The plaque above the entrance read: Cherry Blossom Restaurant.
He felt his mouth water before he even registered it. He remembered the food from his previous visits — both times here with his mother and elder brother. The dishes had left a mark.
"Cherry Blossom Restaurant." Feng Mei said, coming to a stop beside him. "Shall we eat before we head back?"
She didn't particularly need to eat — her cultivation had long since reduced that necessity. But her brother was still a nine-year-old child with no cultivation at all. Better to feed him now than deal with complaints on the walk home.
"Yes!!" Feng Han was already heading for the door.
★ — ★ — ★
A few minutes later.
Feng Han was working through dish after dish at a pace that suggested he hadn't eaten in days. Across from him, Feng Mei sat with an empty glass and an expression of serene patience.
She had ordered only juice. A waiter hovered nearby with a full jar, refilling her glass the moment it approached empty — with the smooth, quiet efficiency of someone who had done exactly this many times before.
The restaurant was peaceful. A sound-isolating array kept the noise of the street outside entirely at bay, and somewhere in the background a musician played — soft, unhurried notes that gave the space an almost dreamlike stillness.
Strangely, every other table in the restaurant was empty. No other customers. And near the counter, all the waitstaff and the floor manager stood in a neat, attentive line — as though waiting for inspection.
Anyone who walked in off the street would have found it baffling. The manager himself was present. For the uninitiated, that alone would have been enough to stop them in their tracks.
But if they knew it had all come down to a single sentence — they might have fainted.
Near the counter, a recently hired waiter leaned slightly toward his colleague and whispered.
"What's happening? Why are we standing like this? Why is the manager here? Who are those two?"
His colleague looked back at him with the composed smile of someone in possession of information.
"You're new, and you're from out of town — so I'll give you a hint. In all of Mist City, how many people could command this kind of reception?"
"Ugh... The Nine Heavens Tower manager? The Mist Lord? The Royal Family?"
"Bruh."
His colleague stifled a laugh.
"You've named everyone except the right one." He cleared his throat and dropped his voice further. "You see that man standing quietly to the side? That's Hong Jun — personal butler of the Feng family. And that child eating like the table owes him something? That's the Young Master Feng. The only son of Imperial General Feng Huan. The lady who just left was the eldest daughter — Young Miss Mei."
At the mention of Imperial General, the new waiter went rigid.
He had heard things before coming to Mist City. Rumors that the Feng family had withdrawn from public life about a decade ago and taken up residence in some unnamed city. Now it seemed those rumors were true — and the city in question was Mist City, one of the most coveted locations in all of the Luo Kingdom.
He had never imagined he would stumble into their orbit like this.
His legs wobbled. He might have gone down entirely — but a hand caught his arm and steadied him.
"Easy. The last thing you want is to draw attention right now." His colleague said quietly, meeting his eyes with complete sincerity.
"Right. Thank you. I almost — I've heard the rumors. The ones about —"
"Stop." His colleague raised a hand and gave him a sharp look, eyes flicking sideways. "You already know. Don't say it out loud."
The new waiter closed his mouth. He nodded.
A moment later, both of them were back in position — expressions neutral, posture correct, as though nothing had passed between them at all.
This brief exchange went entirely unnoticed by Feng Han, who was still working through his meal with single-minded dedication. Most of the other staff had their attention fixed on him anyway. But it did not escape the manager. Nor Hong Jun. Nor the guards.
None of them acted on it. The two hadn't crossed any lines.
And with that, the visit to the Cherry Blossom Restaurant drew quietly to a close.
★ — ★ — ★
Outside the restaurant.
The manager and staff saw them off with a full salute at the door.
"That food is genuinely exceptional." Feng Han said, patting his stomach with a look of deep philosophical satisfaction. "I don't understand why Elder Sister would pass up such a thing."
"Young Master." Hong Jun said at his side. "Young Miss mentioned she had urgent business to attend to at the Nine Heavens Tower."
"Is that so?" Feng Han frowned slightly.
He hadn't been able to figure out what business she could possibly have there when they had only just left. But he set the thought aside.
Instead, he looked down at the locket hanging against his chest and let his thoughts settle inward.
I am a reincarnator. I have a system. There has to be something I can do. I won't let this life go to waste. This locket — it will matter. Even if my system is a system in name only.
"Shall we wait here or head back? Did she say when she'd return?" Feng Han asked, turning to Hong Jun.
Before Hong Jun could answer, a shadow fell over Feng Han — and a faint, sweet floral scent reached him before anything else did.
He couldn't make out the face clearly against the backlight, but the fragrance was enough. He knew exactly who it was.
"Elder Sister! Why did you go back? Are they asking us to return the locket?" Feng Han asked, his voice pitched with genuine alarm.
"Young Miss." Hong Jun bowed, the guards following. "We have looked after the Young Master as instructed."
He had brought the guards along the moment he received Feng Mei's message. Even if someone failed to recognize Feng Han outright, the lineup alone would make anyone think twice. Unnecessary trouble, neatly avoided.
"At ease." Feng Mei said, and they straightened.
Hong Jun was exceptional. He had not once failed a task since taking up this post — reliable, devoted, and sharp in exactly the ways that mattered. Entirely irreplaceable.
At her side, Feng Han tugged at her sleeve.
"Sis. Is everything alright?" The look on his face — eyes slightly glassy, lower lip nearly trembling — made it very clear he was imagining a future in which his gift was confiscated.
"What are you talking about?" Feng Mei blinked.
"Then why did you leave in such a hurry?" Feng Han pressed, with a pout.
"Silly."
She reached out and flicked his forehead, light as a feather.
"My cute little brother." She smiled, voice softening. "That face is genuinely adorable, you know."
"Hmph. I'm keeping my gift." Feng Han announced, and walked ahead.
Feng Mei watched him go, still smiling. She said nothing by way of explanation. Then she turned to Hong Jun.
"Any trouble while I was gone? Full report."
"Yes, Young Miss." Hong Jun said, composed as ever.
He gave a thorough account of everything that had passed in her absence.
"Good." Feng Mei nodded. "Let's head back. This trip has been rewarding."
And with that, the morning came to its end.
★ — ★ — ★
That evening.
At Feng Manor.
Feng Han sat with the locket in his hands, turning it slowly, studying it from every possible angle.
He had gone over every surface. Every groove, every edge of the tetrahedral design, every facet of the dim aqua-green gem at its center. Nothing had surfaced. No hidden mechanism. No pulse of energy. No dramatic awakening.
He set it down on his knee and stared at it.
I'll figure it out eventually.
He shelved it there and let the evening pass as it usually did — quietly, without event.
When the moon had risen and his eyelids had grown heavy, Feng Han got into bed and took his routine glance at the status panel hovering before him.
He went rigid.
What?!
It's... it's changed. There's been a change!
Oh lord — thank you. THANK YOU.
[ WELCOME TO IMMORTAL CULTIVATION SYSTEM!
Version: TAI – 23.13
Name: Feng Han
Age: 9
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Status: Normal
Special Status: Heavenly Curse – Unable to Cultivate | Saint's Mark – Unparalleled Cultivator
Talent: Awakened (Inactive)
]
Talent: Awakened.
He stared at the new line for a long time.
Inactive.
...Right. Of course.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep, the faint glow of the locket resting against his chest — rhythmically dimming and brightening in the dark, as though it were breathing.
★ — ★ — ★
In a hidden chamber.
A study, lit by candlelight. Bookshelves lined every wall. The furnishings were old and worn in the way that suggested not neglect, but long and constant use.
At the desk sat a figure with effortless composure.
Before her stood a man in white robes — short black hair, golden eyes — his posture perfectly straight.
He bowed.
"I have confirmed the Tang Dynasty's interference. Shall we proceed?"
The figure at the desk shifted slightly and gave a single nod.
"Keep watch for now. If an opportunity presents itself, you have my permission to act at your own discretion."
Her voice was clear and final.
"As you wish, Lord Mei."
"Mm. Has the Royal Family moved yet?"
"Already mobilized. Dragon Guards are out investigating and detaining anyone suspicious. The Moonlit Duke has gone undercover in secret — but I've marked him, so his movements are being tracked." Hong Jun answered, with a faint note of satisfaction.
"As expected. Good work — as always."
"Serving Lord Mei is its own reward." Hong Jun said simply.
"Mm." Feng Mei was quiet for a moment, then added, "I'll be leaving tomorrow. If anything significant comes up, handle it as you see fit and keep me informed. And protect my brother from any harm."
She said it the same way she said everything — calmly, without fuss. But it was the one instruction she never left out.
"As you command, Lord Mei. The Young Master will be protected."
"That's all. You may go."
The candlelight steadied as the room emptied. Then the chamber was still.
★ — ★ — ★
The next morning.
Feng Han woke to find Feng Mei already gone.
He sat with it for a moment. Then nodded to himself. She had important matters at the sect. That was how it always was.
"Han'er. Get ready. We're going to the Auction House today to sell a few of my paintings." Feng Qian called from the next room, carefully arranging a stack of canvases as she spoke.
Feng Han froze. Then, slowly, the memory of two days ago came back to him in full.
"M-Mom — are you really going through with the auction? Can I at least help choose which paintings to sell?" He chose his words with precision.
"Of course." Feng Qian smiled proudly and stepped aside.
Feng Han took a breath. He steeled himself. Then he leaned in to assess whether any of these paintings were fit to be seen by the public.
After a thorough inspection, his conclusion was clear: not a single one of them was suitable for any sane person to look at.
"W-Who selected this lineup?" His voice came out slightly unsteady.
"Fufu. That was Jun'er." Feng Qian said pleasantly, gesturing across the courtyard to where Hong Jun stood directing servants with quiet efficiency. "He helped me choose my best pieces. Said these were the most impactful. What do you think?"
"...Big Brother chose these. Haha... Truly impactful." Feng Han's laugh faded into something dry and hollow.
It seemed fate had decided Mist City was due for some chaos.
He exhaled. This was already beyond anything he could fix.
★ — ★ — ★
Some time later.
Feng Han and Feng Qian set out from Feng Manor, dressed in noble robes. A gilded carriage rolled out through the gates.
Feng Han looked animated — and to any onlooker, the reason would have seemed obvious. A child visiting the Jade Lotus Auction House for the first time. A perfectly ordinary reaction.
If they had known the real reason, they would have laughed.
Auction means treasures. Treasures mean powerful abilities. Powerful abilities mean an actual edge. In short — this is where I truly begin.
Or so he thought.
★ — ★ — ★
North Market.
Jade Lotus Auction House.
It was enormous — easily large enough to hold a thousand people. Everything about its design spoke of wealth that had long since stopped needing to announce itself.
Inside the auction hall, the seats were filling with customers in all manner of dress. Most had opted for the cautious approach: black robes, masks, identities kept close to the chest. A few hadn't bothered — either because they were there purely to watch, or because they were too poor to matter, too powerful to care, had backing deep enough to make concealment pointless, or were simply not thinking about it at all.
In one of the VIP rooms.
Feng Han sat on the couch with the fixed, glassy expression of a man who had seen too much and processed none of it. He looked like a wooden puppet. A puppet with a disturbingly vacant smile.
Two hours.
For two solid hours he had watched item after item pass through the hall. Pills. Techniques. Spell manuals. Artifacts. Rare and extraordinary, every one of them.
And not a single one could help him cultivate.
He already knew this. He had tried similar things before — nothing worked. The Heavenly Curse on his status panel was not decorative.
He let out a long, silent exhale and stood up.
"Han'er — going somewhere? Bored? Do you want to head back?" Feng Qian asked absently, picking through a fruit platter while flipping through the auction catalog.
"I just need the washroom, Mom. I'll be back." Feng Han said, and slipped out before she could respond.
He needed a moment to decompress. Or several moments. He began to walk.
The Auction House was vast — hundreds of rooms branching off labyrinthine corridors, every door he passed firmly locked. Nothing to see, nowhere to go. He wandered anyway, because standing still felt worse.
Time stretched.
The corridors seemed to go on without end. Logically, he should have hit a turn, a fork, a dead end — something. But the hallway simply continued, unhurried and indifferent.
Just as he considered turning back, something caught the corner of his eye.
A massive gate. Standing at the corridor's end — except a moment ago, he was certain there had been nothing there at all.
He stopped.
...Should I?
What if something dangerous is sealed inside?
At worst — I die. But wasn't that exactly how this life began?
It was a more alarming thought than it should have been — not because it was dramatic, but because it didn't slow him down even slightly.
Feng Han stepped forward.
He drew closer, until the gate rose above him and made him look very small indeed.
At that moment, his eyes went white.
Not dimmed. Not unfocused. White — as though the pupils had simply ceased to exist.
On his chest, a faint light pulsed slowly. On and off. On and off.
From the front pocket of his robes, a small metallic shape was just barely visible — tetrahedral, engraved with intricate patterns — hanging there as if it had always been there, as if it had always known this moment was coming.
The source of the light.
The locket.