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Chapter Eleven: The Undercurrent of Changan

  As the morning mist wrapped around the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms drifting over Suzaku Street, Lin Mo was crouched in the back courtyard of a teahouse, washing dishes. A coarse linen garment concealed the scarred lines on his body, while the clear water in the wooden basin reflected a pair of bloodshot eyes—three months had passed since the collapse of the Guixu, yet he still woke up at midnight, the lingering warmth of Su Wan'er’s fading presence still in his palm.

  "Xiao Lin! The guest up front wants Longjing tea!" The shopkeeper's call echoed through the corridor.

  Lin Mo wiped his face and picked up the tea tray. As he lifted the curtain, he heard a familiar mocking voice: "Isn't this the big shot from the Beast Immortal Sect?" A group of richly dressed young men sat by the window, the leader lifting Lin Mo's chin with a folding fan. "I heard you were struggling to carry bags at the dock, needing to rest three times for one bag of rice?"

  The teahouse suddenly fell silent. Lin Mo lowered his gaze to the green porcelain teacup, the surface reflecting his pale face—it certainly looked like that of a disease-ridden wretch. But only he knew that within this seemingly frail body, fragments of the Beast Pearl were swimming through his veins, burning his meridians whenever his emotions fluctuated.

  "Young Master Zhou is joking." He bowed slightly to pour the tea, pouring hot water precisely to fill the cup seven-tenths full. "I'll go to the back kitchen right away..."

  "Why the rush?" Young Master Zhou pressed down on his wrist with the folding fan, flicking a gold coin from his fingertips. "Bark like a dog, and this money is yours."

  The tea rippled. Lin Mo saw his own reflection in the water, his pupils suddenly glinting gold, as the dormant fragments of the Beast Pearl in his dantian began to stir. Just as he was about to lose control, a clear bell chimed from outside.

  "Good tea." A girl in simple clothes lifted the curtain, silver bells in her hair chiming softly. She walked directly to sit opposite Young Master Zhou, and a piece of crystal-clear ice slipped from her sleeve. "Please get me a pot of snow-topped emerald."

  Lin Mo nearly dropped the teapot. The patterns on the ice clearly resembled frost flowers condensed from cold marrow spirit! And the instant the girl lifted her gaze, the brilliance in her silver eyes mirrored that of Su Wan'er.

  "Miss is..." he stammered, his throat tightening.

  "Su Han." The girl propped her chin and smiled lightly. "Cold, as in the passing of winter and summer."

  Young Master Zhou suddenly began to shriek. The fingers that had touched the ice became covered in white frost, his entire arm visibly stiffening. The teahouse patrons fled in terror, but Lin Mo focused on the path of the frost flowers spreading—this was exactly the "Ice Heart Lock" that Su Wan'er had used back in the day!

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  "Vixen!" Young Master Zhou staggered backward. "Call the authorities..."

  Before he could finish, Su Han flicked her fingers lightly. The frost flowers exploded into ice mist, enveloping the entire teahouse. Lin Mo caught the scent of blood in the cold mist; by the time the ice crystals fell, Young Master Zhou and the others had turned into ice sculptures, their faces frozen in horror.

  "Now it’s peaceful." Su Han lifted the teapot to pour herself some tea. "The shopkeeper said the new waiter resembles a dear friend of mine. I guess..." She suddenly leaned closer to Lin Mo's ear, "Is he the one who took a bath in the Guixu?"

  A chill ran down Lin Mo's spine. The girl's breath carried an icy scent, and as she moved, the silver bells on her wrist revealed inner inscriptions—the very soul-binding spell of the Tianji Pavilion!

  Suddenly, a whistling sound cut through the air. Lin Mo instinctively dove to protect Su Han as three black arrows shot through the air, narrowly missing his hair and embedding themselves in the beams. The arrow tails were marked with blood-red eye patterns, identical to the totems on the walls of the Guixu well.

  "Agents of the Heavenly Dao." Su Han chuckled beneath him. "Here for you?"

  The sounds of mechanisms whirring came from outside. Twelve bronze puppets emerged from the mist, their joints embedded with the stargazing instruments Lin Mo had seen in the Beast Pavilion! Grabbing Su Han, he rolled toward the counter as tea canisters were shattered by arrows, splattering Bi Luo Chun and Longjing tea mixed with porcelain shards.

  "Stay hidden!" He shoved Su Han into the wine cellar and turned to grab a fire poker. The fragments in his dantian stirred to life under pressure, and the stick gleamed with dark golden patterns; when it collided with the nearest puppet, sparks flew.

  The puppet's chest suddenly cracked open, revealing a spinning nest of soul-eating insects. Lin Mo's pupils contracted sharply as the excruciating pain from the Beast Pearl's explosion in the Guixu surged back. Just as the insects were about to pounce, an ice wall formed out of thin air, sealing the insect nest within frozen ice.

  "How weak can you be to act as a vessel?" Su Han leaned against the wine cellar door, toying with an ice spear. "Do you want me to teach you... ah!"

  She suddenly crouched down, covering her head as her silver eyes glowed with blood. Lin Mo caught a glimpse of the soul-binding spell on the back of her neck beginning to shine, and countless fragments of memories flooded into his consciousness—Qing Li forming seals in front of the ice coffin, Xiao Han pierced through the heart with a soul-piercing nail, and finally, the moment when the countless stars exploded at the bottom of the Guixu well.

  "Su..." He reached out to support her, but an ice spear pressed against his throat.

  "Don't touch me!" Su Han trembled all over, the silver bells in her hair bursting into shards. "You smell of well water... it reminds me of..."

  Suddenly, the ground collapsed. The shockwave from the self-detonating bronze puppets overturned the teahouse, and Lin Mo grasped Su Han's wrist amid the flying rubble. An eerie cold wave emanated from the girl's wrist bone, resonating with the fragments of the Beast Pearl within him.

  As the dust settled, they stood in the center of the ruins. From the shadow at the street corner emerged a hunchbacked old beggar, tapping a piece of the stargazing instrument with his bamboo staff. "Young friend, care for a divination?" His murky right eye suddenly transformed into a vertical pupil. "I foresee that tonight, at the hour of the rat, you will strangle this girl with your own hands."

  Su Han suddenly groaned. An ice-blue curse mark appeared on her neck, resonating with the golden patterns in Lin Mo's palm. The old beggar's laughter faded into the distance: "Remember, killing your beloved is the final ritual for awakening the vessel..."

  The distant sound of a watchman’s clapper echoed. Lin Mo suddenly realized that the girl in his arms was losing her breath, while his five fingers had unknowingly wrapped around her throat.

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