It was still deep into the night when Xing Yue finally gathered herself enough to move again. The air outside the brothel felt colder than before. Or perhaps it was simply because of what she had seen.
The noisy establishment behind her spilled warm lantern light onto the narrow street, turning wet stone pathways gold and crimson. Laughter leaked through the walls alongside the distant notes of piper melodies and guqin strings. Drunken customers moved in and out of the entrance while servants carried empty jars into the night.
Everything looked normal. Too normal.
Because moments earlier, hidden amongst the crowd and moving figures, Xing Yue had caught sight of someone.
Just a glimpse. Nothing more.
Yet that glimpse alone had nearly frightened the soul out of her body. Her fingers curled tightly beneath her sleeves. If that person ever came into direct contact with her— If fate decided they should truly meet— She knew she would not escape.
Not this time.
Xing Yue was not someone who frightened easily. She had survived heavenly wars.
She had watched stars collapse. She had endured exile, accusations, humiliation, and centuries of silence. Fear rarely reached her anymore. But there were exceptions. There would always be exceptions.
Drawing a slow breath, she turned toward the brothel entrance again. She only managed two steps.
Then, she heard a clap. A single sound echoed behind her. Not loud. Not threatening. Yet it froze her in place more effectively than chains.
"Well, wow." A familiar voice carried through the quiet street. "What on earth is a Star god like you doing in a place like this? Are you not worried it might affect your image? Even if only a little?"
Xing Yue stopped walking immediately.
Her body stilled so completely it almost looked unnatural. For a moment, she resembled someone whose movements had been paused by unseen hands.
Then slowly, very slowly—She turned. Her expression had already changed. Every trace of fear vanished beneath practiced calm.
"Same goes for you," Xing Yue replied coolly. "I suppose you truly are my follower. Wherever I go, you appear. Sounds almost poetic."
The woman standing behind her visibly twitched. Her eyebrow moved so sharply it looked painful.
"You—" she started. "Who exactly is following you? You have the nerve—"
"Otherwise?" Xing Yue interrupted lazily. "Why would Record Keeper Guo N'Yang be here? Surely you did not descend simply because you missed me."
The woman before her folded her arms.
This was Guo N'Yang. The Keeper of Records from the Celestial Library. The collector of things forgotten and recorder of things that should never be forgotten.
And unfortunately, Xing Yue's lifelong rival.
From the very first day they had existed.
Born from heavenly clouds during the same celestial cycle.
Created on the same day. At nearly the same moment. Many immortals once called them the Heavenly Twins.
Neither of them accepted the title. Twins implied closeness. Understanding. Affection.
They possessed none of those things.
What they possessed instead was endless rivalry. Arguments.Competitions. Sabotage.
The kind of relationship that turned peaceful halls into disasters.
During their younger years, their feuds had become so frequent that even Heavenly Cloud Woven itself—the celestial realm meant to embody harmony—felt less peaceful whenever they occupied the same region.
Eventually, Tian Zhao, the Heavenly Emperor, lost patience. So he separated them.
Xing Yue had been placed under the guidance of AnZi, the Star Goddess of that era.
Guo N'Yang had been sent to train beneath Fengjue, the previous Keeper of Records.
Far apart. Out of sight. Out of trouble.
For the first time in decades, Heaven became quiet again.
Which was exactly why seeing Guo N'Yang here felt wrong. Very wrong.
"I already told you," Guo N'Yang said stiffly, "I am not following you. I am carrying out orders from above."
Xing Yue scoffed quietly.
"Orders from above?" she repeated. "Let me guess. Tian Zhao wants me back so he can erase me properly this time? Remove the imposter?"
Her voice remained calm. Too calm. The melancholy hidden beneath it barely surfaced. Guo N'Yang noticed. She simply just chose not to care.
"Are you planning to run?" Guo N'Yang asked instead. "Look, I know you stole the Scroll of Hundred Memories from the Pool of Knowledge. I simply chose not to report it.
Xing Yue's eyes narrowed.
"You—"
"Me what?" Guo N'Yang cut in smoothly. "Are you about to ask how I know?"
She stepped closer. Moonlight caught silver threads embroidered into her robes.
"You forget who I am. I am Keeper of Records. I know every scroll that exists. Every archive. Every hidden text. Even those yet to be written."
Her expression hardened.
"I am still shocked a scroll of that magnitude ended up in the mortal realm."
Xing Yue released a tired breath.
Not angry. Just tired.
"I already told everyone," she said quietly, "I was not the one who stole the Whiskers of Fate. I was not even there."
As she said that, she suddenly became angry. "You took my immortality, you erased my title.What else do you want?"
Guo N'Yang crossed her arms tighter.
"Are you seriously telling me some magical spirit copied your appearance just to steal the Whiskers of Fate?" she asked flatly. "Stop entertaining ridiculous thoughts."
That earned her a glare. A genuine one. From the heart. Xing Yue was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Everything was just taking a troll on her, and Guo N'Yang has just gracefully attached herself to it.
"Go tell the Heavenly Emperor I will return after this case," she finally said.
Guo N'Yang immediately scoffed. "As though I would believe that."
Xing Yue pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Look, Guo N'Yang."
For once, there was no sarcasm. No mockery. Only fatigue.
"We have spent centuries fighting. We disagree on nearly everything." Her voice softened. "But you know me."
She looked directly into Guo N'Yang's eyes.
"Tian Zhao knows me too. I do not bluff."
Guo N'Yang hesitated. Only slightly.
"In as much as I want to believe you," she admitted, "I still dislike you tremendously."
She paused. "Which makes trusting you exceptionally difficult."
Silence stretched between them. Behind them, drunken laughter exploded from inside the brothel. Someone broke a cup.
Music continued. Life continued.
Meanwhile, under cold moonlight, two immortals argued over ancient wounds.
Finally, Xing Yue sighed.
"There are deaths happening here," she said. "Deaths I cannot explain."
She glanced toward the brothel. "That man inside and I are trying to find the murderer."
Guo N'Yang frowned.
"You?" she asked skeptically. "You fight wars. Since when do you sit around thinking like a detective?"
Xing Yue decided conversation had reached its limit. Slowly, she raised one hand. A faint shimmer gathered around her fingertips.
Tiny threads of pale light wrapped around her fingers like soft starlight.
Her incantation skills were mediocre at best.
Truthfully, she had learned most of what she knew by secretly observing Jiang Yunxian.
He made complicated techniques appear effortless. She copied only the simpler ones.
Thankfully—
The Chant of Transfer belonged among the simpler techniques. The glowing light collected into a small floating symbol.
Xing Yue gently blew across her fingertips.
The spell drifted forward like scattered dust.
Guo N'Yang's eyes widened.
"You would use techniques on me—"
The spell touched her. The world twisted.
And suddenly, the cold night outside the brothel disappeared around them.
___
What rushed into Guo N'Yang's mind was not merely a collection of memories.
It was experience.
One moment she stood beneath the cold night sky outside the brothel, and the next, reality itself bent around her as scenes crashed into her consciousness with brutal force.
She saw everything. Not from a distance.
Not like watching someone else's story unfold. She watched it like she experienced it. The deaths. The investigations. Of the bracelet
The confusion, that settled in her was palpable.
The unease that followed them from one location to another. She saw what Rong Qi had seen. She saw what Jiang Yunxian had witnessed. Most importantly—She saw what Xing Yue had seen.
The memories rushed through her mind with such terrifying realism that for a brief moment she almost forgot where she truly stood. The smell of blood returned. The unnatural silence around the corpses returned. The burning farmhouse.That indescribable wrongness surrounding each death wrapped around her senses again like cold hands.
Her breathing faltered. This was the Chant of Transfer. Among heavenly techniques, it was often described with contradictions.
It was the easiest chants known to history. The safest that could be used at anytime, any place and very most, the dangerous that it send waves of panic in both the oerdormers of such chants.
Also known among immortals as the Truth Chant.
Not because it forced honesty through words. Words could lie. Expressions could deceive. Even souls could disguise themselves. Memories rarely did.
The chant transferred lived experiences directly into another consciousness. It bypassed explanations entirely. There was nothing to argue against. Nothing to
reinterpret.
Only truth.
Which was exactly why so many immortals feared it. The technique itself required an absurd balance. Too much control and the transfer collapsed. Too little focus and both parties could suffer spiritual backlash. One needed enough carelessness to allow minds to connect, yet enough discipline to maintain separation.
A contradiction.
Like most heavenly techniques. And its dangers were infamous. The performer and receiver became temporarily linked, their consciousnesses pressing against one another like rivals fighting for the final bowl of tangyuan during a festival.
If the memory being transferred happened to be deeply buried—if it carried trauma—
If it touched hidden wounds or carefully locked secrets—
The consequences could become catastrophic. The receiver might become trapped. The performer might lose themselves.
In worst cases, one consciousness devoured the other. Countless immortals avoided the chant entirely. Not because it was difficult. Because it was terrifying.
Guo N'Yang finally returned to herself with a sharp inhale.
Moonlight. Street. Cold air. Brothel entrance.
Reality slowly reconstructed itself around her. Now understanding what Xing Yue had experienced firsthand, she could not stop the slight shiver that traveled through her body.
Those deaths— They were horrific.
Not simply violent. Wrong.
There was something fundamentally unnatural hidden beneath them. And now Xing Yue looked pale. Of course she did.
That memory belonged to her.
She had forcefully extracted those experiences from her own consciousness and transferred them outward. No matter how simple she tried to make it appear, such techniques were exhausting.
Guo N'Yang stared at her rival with complicated emotions. She had descended under orders.
Tian Zhao wanted Xing Yue returned.
That had been simple. Now— Nothing felt simple.
What should I do? she silently wondered.
But Guo N'Yang refused to lose face.
Straightening herself immediately, she crossed her arms and scoffed.
"I wonder where you learned such a spell from."
Xing Yue raised an eyebrow.
"Guo N'Yang, I think that should not be your question."
She smiled faintly.
Guo N'Yang "..."
"I think your question should be: How did I miss this? I have buried myself inside the library for so long that I never realized something like this happened."
She tilted her head.
"That should be the real question, no?"
But before Guo N'Yang could open her mouth, Xing Yue interrupted before she could answer.
"But as a heavenly embodiment, I shall answer anyway."
Guo N'Yang's eye twitched immediately at those words. Shameless. Absolutely shameless.
"I happened to meet an old friend," Xing Yue continued. "He knows many spells. Learning one or two techniques from him was not difficult."
Guo N'Yang rolled her eyes openly.
Heavenly embodiment?
Her rival truly grew more shameless with age. Yet annoyingly clever too. A terrible combination.
Bah!
What an irritating person. After a moment, Guo N'Yang sighed.
"Then Chufang and I are coming too."
Xing Yue blinked. "Coming where?"
"With you."
Guo N'Yang pointed toward the brothel entrance. "I have to keep an eye on you."
Xing Yue stared. "Keep an eye on me? Have you cultivated enough combat techniques or spiritual arts to maintain this so-called keeping watch?"
Guo N'Yang immediately replied.
"But I possess the weapon needed to drag you back to Heaven."
She smiled. "Do you disagree?"
Xing Yue already knew. Refusing would create a longer argument. A louder one.
Probably a more destructive one. So with visible reluctance, she exhaled heavily and accepted defeat.
Together, they entered the brothel. Warmth immediately swallowed them. Noise crashed into them next. The atmosphere inside had somehow become even more chaotic. Lantern light painted every corner gold and crimson. Musicians continued playing despite growing disorder. Servants rushed between tables carrying trays while customers shouted over one another.
Then Xing Yue noticed the source. Her eyes widened.
Jiang Yunxian had already finished every jar previously placed at their table. Every single one.
And now—
He was competing. Across from him sat a young woman with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
Xing Yue at much could guess that this was Guo N'Yang's apprentice: Chufeng. She knew that immortals that always lock themselves in the library, like Guo N'Yang would get an apprentice. Just like it happened to Guo N'Yang herself with her teacher, Fengjue.
Empty jars surrounded both of them. More were stacked nearby. The brothel owner himself had abandoned his counter to watch. Customers crowded around. People shouted bets. Coins changed hands rapidly.
One merchant slammed money onto a table.
"Five silver pieces on the quiet man!"
Another customer yelled.
"No way! The girl is winning!"
A third drunken spectator shouted.
"They both look sober! Add another round!"
From near the entrance, Xing Yue and Guo N'Yang watched in stunned silence. Nearby, the brothel owner leaned toward a waiter and whispered frantically.
"We are doomed."
The waiter blinked. "What?"
"The wine is finished.". The owner nearly cried.
"Tell Old Li to brew more immediately before these people drink us into bankruptcy!"
The waiter ran.
Around them, cheering erupted as Jiang Yunxian casually emptied another cup.
Chufang responded by grabbing an entire jar. People screamed louder. From the doorway, both heavenly rivals sighed simultaneously.
"In all my decades of life," Guo N'Yang muttered while rubbing her forehead, "I have never seen people compete over who becomes drunk first.". She looked horrified.
"This is certainly new."
Mentally, she was already considering formally disowning her apprentice.
Beside her, Xing Yue nodded slowly. "For once since we were formed," she said quietly, "I agree with you."
She stared at Jiang Yunxian. Then at the crowd. Then at the mountain of empty jars.
At that moment, Xing Yue began wondering how one officially, secretly, and discreetly unfriend someone without letting the heavens know they had ever been associated with in the first place.