Undercurrents of conspiracy quietly approach; Shen Yi uncovers the truth and defuses the crisis.

The moonlight spilled like a silver stream across the bluestone pavement, while Shen Yi used the tip of his boot to crush a few fallen petals of white magnolia, his gaze sweeping over the northwest corner of the array-viewing platform with a casual air.

Elder Xuanfeng had already retrieved the snapped array banner, but embedded within the cinnabar array patterns lingering on the flag base was still half a crescent-shaped jadeite shard.

"The third round of trials moved to the hour of the rat?" Hao Yu asked, shuffling closer with a roasted chicken leg in his mouth. Grease splattered onto Shen Yi's newly replaced cloud-patterned archery cuffs. "They say it's to test some sort of nocturnal combat adaptability..."

Catching a faint, elusive whiff of aloeswood incense in the air, Shen Yi suddenly pressed down on Hao Yu's shoulder. "That poria cake you brought yesterday—whose hands did it pass through?"

"Aunt Zhang at the culinary hall... Hey, what are you doing?" Before Hao Yu could finish, Shen Yi had already flashed toward the trial pavilion.

Beneath the dark-tiled eaves, thirty-six dark iron boxes were neatly aligned, each lid engraved with the birth date and hour of a trial participant.

When his fingertips brushed against the box inscribed with the two characters "Shen Yi," his ice-silkworm gloves instantly sprouted a dense layer of frost.

Gao Yao's ice-silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist. "Someone applied cold-marrow powder to the mechanism."

"More than that." Shen Yi flicked the box lid lightly, sending three poison-quenched pear-blossom needles grazing past his ear to embed themselves deep into the corridor pillar.

The silver bells tied to the ends of the needles emitted a soft chime, startling a night owl in the treetop into a frantic flurry of wings. The moonlight illuminated the dark purple demonic patterns on the needle tips—the very same immortal-suppressing assassins' weapons confiscated from demonic cultivators just last month.

Footsteps echoed from the direction of the array-viewing platform. Shen Yi reached out and shoved Gao Yao into the shadows of the corridor.

Embroidery shoes studded with cold pearls stepped across the shattered magnolias, and a jadeite thumb ring cast an eerie glow in the moonlight, stopping a mere half-foot away from the toxic needles.

"Senior Sister, watch your step." Shen Yi smiled, using a tree branch to flip up a poisoned needle. "Step on this thing, and your foot will probably swell up like a spiced pork knuckle."

Leng Shuang's silk handkerchief brushed past the tip of her nose. "Junior Brother should worry more about the trials. I hear the nocturnal combat takes place inside the Myriad Sword Tomb." As she turned, the hem of her skirt brushed against Shen Yi's dark iron box, and the spell gesture hidden within her wide sleeve moved so fast it left only afterimages.

Shen Yi stared at the newly changed nine-luan pearl-inlaid hairpin in her hair, convinced that the eyes of the luan bird were carved from red obsidian soaked in demonic blood.

When the clepsydra chimed for the hour of the rat, the system light screen at Shen Yi's wrist suddenly flickered: [Demonic weapon contact detected, Demon-Devouring Vine growth +5%].

He rubbed the dark green vine hidden in his sleeve, watching Elder Xuanfeng activate the teleportation array to the Myriad Sword Tomb.

Leng Shuang had deliberately shifted her position to the northeast corner, perfectly positioned to channel spiritual energy into the array eye.

"Raise the array!"

Three hundred bronze swords chimed simultaneously like dragons roaring, and Shen Yi's dark iron box popped open in response.

In the spot where the miasma-repelling jade pendant should have been resting lay a bronze mirror engraved with a taotie pattern.

His pupils shrank violently—this was Jian Chen's natal magical artifact, the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror, capable of devouring others' spiritual energy to nourish its master.

"Could Junior Brother Shen be so nervous that you grabbed the wrong box?" Jian Chen's voice rode within the surging sword qi, and the jade pendant at his waist was already resonating with the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror.

Shen Yi felt the spiritual energy in his dantian suddenly flow backward. The Demon-Devouring Vine writhed frantically in his sleeve, its tip piercing his skin and greedily sucking up the rebellious spiritual energy.

Gao Yao's crystal-ice sword cleaved through the surging pressure waves. "Shen Yi, you..."

"Don't come over!" Shen Yi bit the tip of his tongue to forcibly rally his spiritual energy, but the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror burst into a blinding azure radiance.

The observing disciples gasped and retreated, watching his robes billow like sails while spiderweb-like purple patterns surfaced across his exposed skin—the classic harbinger of spiritual energy berserk deviation.

Leng Shuang's gasp of shock rang out with perfect timing. "Could Junior Brother Shen be secretly practicing demonic arts?"

The Demon-Devouring Vine suddenly burst from his sleeve, its dark green tendrils instantly wrapping around the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror.

Amidst the searing agony, Shen Yi heard the system prompt chime: [Demonic artifact erosion detected, activating Demon-Devouring Vine devouring function].

Stumbling backward, he slammed heavily against the sword-testing rock. The realgar powder shaken loose from his sleeve mixed with fresh blood, tracing distorted incantations across the ground.

"Enough!" Elder Xuanfeng's horsetail whisk swept away the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror, the mirror's surface reflecting the control hand seal Jian Chen had failed to retract in time.

Crouched beside the sword-testing rock, Shen Yi breathed heavily, his peripheral vision catching Leng Shuang using a silk handkerchief to wipe her jadeite thumb ring. The corner of that handkerchief was embroidered with the exact same luan bird pattern found on the array banner fragments.

As Hao Yu rushed to support him, he pressed a medicinal pill into Shen Yi's palm. "Aunt Zhang said someone touched the food box this morning, wearing silver finger guards inlaid with red agate."

Swallowing the fishy taste of sweet blood, Shen Yi watched Gao Yao tear the hem of her skirt to bandage his wounds.

The ice crystals at the young girl's fingertips condensed into the shape of twin lotus blossoms, the stamens glowing with the dark green juice secreted by the Demon-Devouring Vine.

When Elder Xuanfeng announced the suspension of the trials, the vine in his sleeve suddenly trembled—a familiar scent of aloeswood was mixed in the night wind, drifting from Leng Shuang's quarters toward Jian Chen's practice room.

"Let me see your wound." Gao Yao pulled back his blood-stained collar, her voice suddenly dropping to a whisper. "Is that thing in your sleeve devouring demonic qi?"

Taking advantage of the motion to brush a fallen flower petal from her temple, Shen Yi concealed a small bud split from the Demon-Devouring Vine into her hair ornament.

The moonlight passed through the semi-transparent skin of the vine, revealing a slowly flowing purple halo within—the recoil force of the devoured spiritual energy.

The taste of blood rust still lingered in Shen Yi's throat, but the stinging pain of the Demon-Devouring Vine wandering through his meridians kept him exceptionally clear-headed.

Rising with the support of Gao Yao's arm, he crushed two red-gold pills hidden in his sleeve pocket into mist with his spiritual energy—these were life-extension pills refined in the system space last month using the Nine-Nether Underworld Lotus, and they were now seeping through his pores straight into his spiritual platform.

"On the day Aunt Zhang steamed the poria cakes," he leaned against Hao Yu's shoulder, panting as his fingertips traced a secret code in his friend's palm, "do you remember the frost flowers on the window lattice of the western courtyard's culinary hall?"

Hao Yu's pupils constricted slightly.

When he went to fetch the food box at the卯 (Mao) hour yesterday, he had clearly seen a thin layer of ice coating the carved wooden windows, even though the kitchen stove had burned all night—this was the telltale trace left behind by frost-attribute cultivation techniques.

The moonlight wound like a river across the bluestone path, and Shen Yi smiled faintly as he looked at the mark left by the sweep of Leng Shuang's skirt.

That streak of begonia red was mixed with nearly invisible silver threads—the residual trace of Jian Chen's signature sword qi, "Thousand-Thread Attraction."

Feigning a stagger, he crashed into the sword-testing rock again, the realgar powder and blood droplets shaking from his sleeve coagulating into half a luan bird pattern on the ground.

"Elder Xuanfeng," Shen Yi raised his voice abruptly, his right arm bound by the Demon-Devouring Vine plunging fiercely into a crack in the sword-testing rock, "this disciple requests an inspection of the teleportation array's eye stone."

Jian Chen's sword began to hum of its own accord, and Leng Shuang's nine-luan pearl hairpin shattered in response.

Amidst the gasps of the crowd, Hao Yu suddenly pulled a recorded image jade slip from his bosom—the image clearly showed a hand wearing red-agate silver finger guards applying cold-marrow powder to the mechanism of the dark iron box.

"This is the recorded image of the culinary hall's backyard at the Chen hour today!" Hao Yu ripped open his collar, exposing the red friction marks on his chest left by carrying the recording stones. "Please, Elder, examine these finger guard patterns closely. Aren't they identical to Senior Sister Leng Shuang's..."

Leng Shuang's jadeite thumb ring suddenly burst with cyan light, only to be ruthlessly suppressed by Elder Xuanfeng's horsetail whisk.

When the silver finger guard engraved with the frost flower emblem tumbled from her sleeve, the observing disciples recoiled in horror by three paces.

Shen Yi noticed Jian Chen quietly altering his stance, his sword qi grinding the shards of the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror into dust.

"The Myriad Sword Tomb trial is suspended." Elder Xuanfeng's voice carried the crushing pressure of thunder. "Leng Shuang is confined to the Cliff of Contrition for three years and shall copy the Heart-Cleansing Mantra three thousand times."

The night wind whipped up the scattered magnolia petals, and as Leng Shuang departed, her embroidered shoes crushed the pearls she had dropped.

Leaning against the sword-testing rock, Shen Yi coughed as the dark green juice secreted by the Demon-Devouring Vine slowly repaired his damaged meridians.

Gao Yao's ice silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist, turning into warm water the moment it touched his skin—this girl had actually spared no expense of her core vital essence to heal his injuries.

"Silly girl." Shen Yi used a blood-stained finger to brush away a tear from her eyelashes, taking the opportunity to tuck a Demon-Devouring Vine sprout into her hair. "You look like a painted-face cat when you cry."

Gao Yao's crystal-ice sword suddenly leveled across his neck, the blade wrapped in twin-lotus patterned spiritual energy. "If you ever use demonic qi to feed that vine again, I will..."

"Will what?" Shen Yi caught her fluttering ribbon between his teeth, tasting the sweet, crisp fragrance of snow lotus on her lips—this girl had actually dissolved life-saving medicinal pills into her lip balm.

Sensing pure spiritual energy, the Demon-Devouring Vine curled up happily inside his sleeve.

Squatting behind the sword-testing rock and gnawing on a roasted chicken, Hao Yu pointed grease-stained fingers at the recorded image jade slip. "Aunt Zhang said she also smelled aloeswood that day, the exact same spice Senior Sister Jian Chen uses to scent his robes..."

His words were cut short by the sudden, piercing ring of swords.

Three hundred bronze swords vibrated incessantly within the Myriad Sword Tomb, and the barrier surrounding the trial platform rippled with blood-red waves.

Shen Yi's pupils contracted sharply—the demonic qi devoured by the Demon-Devouring Vine earlier was now condensing into an ink-black vortex within his dantian, while the system light screen flashed frantically: [Tribulation-stage demonic cultivator remnant soul fluctuation detected].

Elder Xuanfeng's horsetail whisk swept across the array-viewing platform, and the shattered banner fragments suddenly pieced themselves together into a complete array diagram.

When the taotie pattern merged with the luan bird pattern on Leng Shuang's handkerchief, Shen Yi's Demon-Devouring Vine abruptly pointed toward the northeast—the direction of Jian Chen's secluded cave dwelling.

"The final showdown is being brought forward." Shen Yi chewed up the red-gold pill hidden beneath his tongue, his spiritual energy surging through his meridians wrapped in the stench of blood.

Under the guise of straightening Gao Yao's collar, he slipped the array banner fragment stained with realgar powder into her waistband.

The moonlight swept past Jian Chen's profile, illuminating the fleeting flash of purple light deep within his eyes—the brand of the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror's backlash.

The cyan bricks of the trial platform suddenly cracked into spiderweb fissures, and a teeth-grating sound of metal friction echoed from deep beneath the earth.

Shen Yi's Demon-Devouring Vine burrowed into a ground fissure, retracting back into his sleeve with half a bronze mirror fragment wrapped in its tip.

When the mirror surface reflected Jian Chen's spell-casting hand seal, the system notification rang out abruptly: [Natal magical artifact bond detected. Would you like to consume 500 planting points for traceability?]

In the night wind, Shen Yi caught the humid scent of an impending mountain storm.

Gazing at the relit teleportation array on the trial platform, his fingertips rubbed the newly grown barbs of the Demon-Devouring Vine—still stained with Jian Chen's sword qi.

Gao Yao's crystal-ice sword emitted a warning chime, its blade reflecting the thunderstorm patterns vaguely visible within the clouds.

As Elder Xuanfeng's decree resounded through the firmament, Shen Yi was toying with the fragment of the bronze mirror.

The moonlight flowed like a river across the surface of the fragment, reflecting the nine-tiered jade steps rising slowly from the depths of the trial platform—the path of trial leading to the core of the Myriad Sword Tomb.

The Demon-Devouring Vine twisted restlessly around his wrist, its tip pointing toward the faint silhouette of the sword pavilion looming at the end of the jade steps.

"Tomorrow at the Chen hour, the final trial." Hao Yu mumbled vaguely around a mouthful of chicken. "They say we have to ascend the Heart-Inquiring Steps."

Shen Yi's boot heel crushed the black mist seeping from the ground fissure, and the system light screen popped up with a prompt: [Host spiritual energy purity has reached the early Nascent Soul stage. Unlocking the third layer of the God-Tier Spiritual Field].

Looking up at the bronze bell hanging from the eaves of the sword pavilion, he suddenly remembered the shattered red obsidian on Leng Shuang's hairpin—that stone had once sealed demonic qi sharing the same origin as the bell.

Gao Yao's ice silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist, condensing into a twin-lotus seal upon his skin. "If you try to act tough again..."

The sharp screech of a night owl pierced the silence, and Shen Yi suddenly pulled her into his embrace.

The Demon-Devouring Vine sprout blossomed into an ink-black lotus flower amidst her hair, the purple glow flashing at its stamen quietly syncing with the vibration frequency of the sword pavilion's bell.

As the first ray of dawn pierced the clouds, a deafening roar of snapping chains echoed from beneath the trial platform—a sound hauntingly reminiscent of the clear chime of the Spirit-Swallowing Mirror shattering.