Mo Xi had no idea that Mengze’s side had already noticed something strange about the silk ribbon. With the night breeze blowing softly, he left the royal city, but did not immediately return to Xihe Residence.
Apart from reporting back to His Majesty, there was another very important reason he had hurried to the palace city—the clues gathered from the Time Mirror made him desperately eager to reopen the old case. Regarding the case from that year, there were three things he had to investigate clearly.
The first was the man in black.
Before Gu Mang’s betrayal, he had come into contact with a man in black. That man in black had used Chonghua’s situation to push Gu Mang toward rebellion, and Gu Mang had not shown any rejection toward him either. So, what was this man in black’s identity?
The second was Battle Soul Mountain.
Before Gu Mang’s betrayal, he had gone to Battle Soul Mountain together with the man in black. Combined with what Gu Mang had previously told him—that he felt the forbidden area of Battle Soul Mountain was “strangely familiar”—it was highly possible that Gu Mang had somehow broken through the barrier of the forbidden area at the time and gone inside to do something. But what exactly was inside Battle Soul Mountain’s forbidden area?
The third was the Yin Prison.
Through his contact with Lu Zhanxing inside the Time Mirror, Mo Xi had already confirmed that Gu Mang had gone to the Yin Prison before his betrayal and had secretly met Lu Zhanxing there. So, what kind of conversation had taken place between Gu Mang and Lu Zhanxing in the Yin Prison that year?
As long as these three matters were investigated clearly, the truth from eight years ago should be able to surface.
But these old affairs had happened in extreme secrecy. Other than Gu Mang himself, one person’s identity was unknown, while another had already become a dead soul beneath the Yellow Springs. Mo Xi did not expect Gu Mang to willingly open his mouth. That meant there were only two ways left to investigate these three matters:
One, turning back time.
Two, the records from that year.
Turning back time required the Time Mirror. However, the ancient divine mirror possessed tremendous power. A mortal body could only enter it once every ten years. Otherwise, it would inevitably be devoured by the mirror and scattered into dust. Therefore, the Time Mirror was no longer an option.
That left only the records from that year…
Mo Xi slowed his steps and glanced toward the northern side of the palace city. That was the direction of the Imperial Historiography Hall.
Every hall and pavilion in Chonghua had a History Stone embedded in it. From the day His Majesty ascended the throne, he would also wear a pendant strung together from History Stones. It could not be removed except on the day of his death. These stones faithfully recorded every little thing that happened in the empire. Each year, the court historians collected them into volumes and sealed them away inside the Imperial Historiography Hall. Mo Xi could try to search through them for secret records related to Gu Mang’s betrayal.
But the problem with the Imperial Historiography Hall was falsification.
Although the royal family had always publicly declared that the scenes recorded by the History Stones were true and reliable, everyone knew in their hearts that stones could not lie, but people could delete sections. If the ruler of a nation ordered the court historian to erase traces of certain events, which historian would dare say no?
So this path was actually just as bleak.
The sky grew darker and darker. The last remaining glow of sunset was finally swallowed by the night. The stars in the heavens and the lanterns on the ground flickered to life together. Mo Xi gazed toward the Imperial Historiography Hall. In the distant darkness, a line of palace maids on night duty carried palace lanterns as they wound their way past, like a twisting snake, passing one after another beside the white jade railings.
…The records in the Imperial Historiography Hall might indeed contain falsehoods, but at least there was still a sliver of hope. Tonight, His Majesty was ill, and most of the Imperial Guards had been concentrated around the sleeping quarters. It was precisely the perfect opportunity to infiltrate the Imperial Historiography Hall. It was worth trying.
Mo Xi watched the line of palace lanterns disappear into the distance. After pondering for a moment, he finally headed toward the Imperial Historiography Hall.
The Imperial Historiography Hall had two entrances, both equipped with barrier formations and illusions, with layers upon layers of guards stationed there. But for the empire’s foremost general, this was not much of an obstacle. Mo Xi infiltrated the main hall without much effort.
Unlike the other magnificent and splendid palace chambers, the structure of the Imperial Historiography Hall was extremely unusual. Rather than resembling a palace, it was more like a tomb.
At the entrance of the main hall stood a stele, carried on the back of a sculpture of Bixi, the sixth son of the Dragon. Four words were written upon the stele:
“Yesterday Has Died.”
These four words had been written by Chonghua’s second ruler.
At that time, Chonghua had only just been established as a nation. The founding ruler suddenly died from an old illness left behind by years of warfare. His final edict had not yet been drafted, and the rightful successor had not yet been determined. Whether the eldest should inherit, the most worthy should inherit, whether an elder brother’s death should mean succession by a younger brother, or whether the son should inherit his father’s position—none of it had yet been decided.
Thus, whether members of the royal family or powerful ministers and nobles, everyone watched that vacant throne with covetous eyes.
Afterward, the bloody storm of the struggle for power raged throughout Chonghua for a full fourteen months.
During those fourteen months, countless people were wrongfully imprisoned, and countless souls died unable to rest in peace. Only when the founding ruler’s seventh son ascended the throne did the storm gradually subside.
Under such political circumstances, even after ascending the throne, the ruler could not find peace.
This second-generation ruler lived every day amid political schemes and calculations. His queen, his children, and even he himself suffered all kinds of plots and secret attacks. He lived every day as if walking on thin ice, until eventually he developed a mental illness—a paranoid obsession.
He had to frequently come to the Imperial Historiography Hall to inspect the records of the past, checking them over and over again.
For example, where had a certain royal brother gone that day?
Or, what people had a certain important minister met the day before?
As long as he caught even the slightest clue, he would follow the thread and investigate it, firmly grasping every trace and clue in the palm of his hand.
Under such a mental state, the second ruler’s entire life was exhausting beyond words. Only when he grew old, stepped down from his high position, and passed the throne on to his son did he finally relax.
Only then did he realize that yesterday’s many things were like yesterday’s death. Things of the past were truly better left in the past.
So he came to the entrance of this palace, which he had frequently visited in his younger days and which was extremely important to Chonghua, and erected a stele, leaving behind these four words:
Yesterday Has Died.
Since yesterday had already died, why should the ruler continue to dwell upon it? Why not turn back?
When the third generation came to power, the new ruler was deeply moved after seeing the inscription on the stele. First, out of mourning for his father, and second, in accordance with his predecessor’s final wishes, he had the Imperial Historiography Hall renovated and rebuilt in the shape of a tomb.
Within this special palace, the buildings became tomb chambers, while the past became the deceased, serving as a warning to everyone:
“Be benevolent. Let go.”
Do not pursue matters when there is nothing to pursue; do not cling when there is something to cling to.
Over all these years, hardly anyone ever came to the Imperial Historiography Hall to investigate the past. Although there were many guards, they had become lax and inattentive. That was also why Mo Xi had been able to arrive inside the main hall so easily without announcing himself.
Tap, tap…
Mo Xi’s iron-plated military boots stepped upon the brick floor, producing hollow echoes in the empty space.
The Imperial Historiography Hall was deep and vast, constructed in the same style as an actual tomb. Along the entire passageway stood twelve stone guardian beasts used to suppress tombs, and the deepest point extended more than one hundred and fifty feet below ground.
On both sides of the main walkway were “tomb chambers”—in other words, places where the empire’s historical records were sealed away. They were arranged according to year, with sealing stones outside, the names of the corresponding dynasties and eras engraved upon their surfaces.
Mo Xi quickly arrived before the “tomb chamber” from eight years ago. Looking at the inscription shimmering with flowing gold, he raised his hand and sensed it faintly, immediately detecting a powerful barrier spell.
Then the tomb guardian beast carved in raised relief upon the stone door let out a deep, muffled sound.
The stone beast opened its mouth.
“Who—has—come—”
The imposing voice echoed endlessly through the tomb passage.
“Who—is—there—?”
This was also a seal placed by the second ruler.
The Imperial Historiography Office recorded the passing years and history. In principle, everything should be open and aboveboard. But if everyone could freely enter and investigate other people’s pasts, the royal city would probably descend into even greater bloodshed.
Therefore, the second ruler had established this layer of enchantment. Anyone who entered the “tomb” to investigate the past had to truthfully report their real name to the tomb guardian beast, so that they could be tracked down in case anything unexpected happened.
Even the ruler himself was no exception.
Mo Xi knew perfectly well that he had already made a grave mistake by doing this, but for the sake of learning the truth, the price was nothing.
He placed his hand over the spirit stone between the tomb guardian beast’s brows and said:
“Xihe Residence, Mo Xi.”
The red spirit-stone eyes embedded within the tomb guardian beast emitted a dazzling glow, seemingly verifying whether Mo Xi’s words were false.
After a while, the radiance faded, and the enormous sealing stone gave a heavy, muffled rumble.
That ancient-sounding voice, as though chanting from time immemorial, intoned:
“Yesterday—Has—Died—”
Along with the second ruler’s final warning to his descendants, the door opened.
A stone chamber containing three hundred and sixty-five coffins, radiating a bone-piercing chill, was revealed completely before Mo Xi’s eyes.
Three hundred and sixty-five coffins represented the three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. Every event that happened in Chonghua each day had been collected into jade scrolls, categorized and placed inside the coffins.
Mo Xi remembered the period he needed to investigate with crystal clarity. There was no need for him to calculate anything. Without the slightest hesitation, he headed straight toward several coffins deep within the “tomb.”
The closer he came to the truth, the faster his heart beat.
Mo Xi stopped before a coffin, his dark eyes filled with shifting, uncertain emotions.
Then he raised his hand.
But before his fingertips could touch the coffin, his heart suddenly tightened—
Mo Xi’s gaze shifted to the side of the coffin.
The layer of dust there was clearly uneven.
Mo Xi’s heart turned cold.
This coffin had been opened!
He hurriedly pushed open the coffin lid. The instant he saw what was inside, his already uneasy and anxious heart felt like a stone that had fallen from a cliff into a bottomless abyss, continuously plummeting downward.
The inside of the coffin was a complete mess.
The jade slips carrying the records of the past had been destroyed to the greatest extent possible. Some of the bamboo-like slips had been shattered almost entirely into powder!
Mo Xi’s expression changed drastically. He immediately activated spells one after another, opening dozens of coffins around him.
Sure enough, the slips inside them had all been shattered as well…
Although he had already anticipated before coming here that this trip would not go smoothly, seeing such a scene with his own eyes still felt like he had been struck hard over the head with a club!
He braced both hands against the edge of the coffin, closed his eyes, and forced himself to calm down.
The jade slips inside the coffins had been made from Kunlun immortal jade, making them extremely difficult to damage. Now that they were shattered, it meant that someone must have known the secrets from that year and did not want those secrets exposed.
Who could it be?
Beneath his deep, prominent brows, Mo Xi’s eyes remained tightly closed, his eyeballs shifting beneath his eyelids.
For a moment, several figures flashed through his mind—
Murong Lian.
The Imperial Historian.
His Majesty.
Even Gu Mang himself before the betrayal.
All kinds of guesses surged through his mind. Just as his heart and organs were being tormented by these possibilities, a sudden commotion rang out from outside, dragging Mo Xi’s thoughts back.
Footsteps and shouting could be heard in the distance.
“Someone has trespassed into the Imperial Historiography Hall!”
“Go search!”
Mo Xi immediately looked up at the open stone door, then at the stone coffins scattered with shattered jade slips.
He knew that after today, he would probably never again have such an easy opportunity to return here.
With his thoughts racing, regardless of whether the jade slips could be repaired, he raised his hand and swept it through the air.
Countless fragments of jade slips immediately floated up like a river of stars, and he collected every one of them into his Qiankun pouch.
By this time, the cultivators guarding the Imperial Historiography Office had already arrived in groups, holding magical artifacts.
Mo Xi had originally intended to conceal himself and evade them, leaving the chaotic Imperial Historiography Hall as quickly as possible before the cultivators could spread out.
But after thinking carefully, he realized that he had openly reported his identity to open the tomb. Once the people of the Imperial Historiography Hall questioned the tomb guardian beast one by one, it would take at most an hour before news of his unauthorized entry into the Imperial Historiography Office reached His Majesty’s ears.
And what could he do during this one hour?
After thinking it over, Mo Xi took a deep breath, straightened his robes and crown, and slowly walked out from the depths of the passage.
Although he was still some distance away, the captain of the guards immediately noticed him. He drew his sword and shouted angrily:
“What rebel has come here, daring to bypass the Imperial Guards and trespass—”
He did not finish speaking.
His words abruptly died in his mouth.
The captain of the guards had seen the man slowly walk out of the shadows, revealing a face with deep, striking features, illuminated by moonlight and carrying the coldness of frost.
All the Imperial Guard cultivators who had been shouting and bustling about were stunned.
Some of them instinctively dropped to their knees.
“Lord Xihe!”
“This subordinate deserves death! I did not know Lord Xihe’s carriage was here. I spoke out of turn!”
Mo Xi’s prestige in Chonghua was simply too high. His upright and noble image was also deeply rooted in everyone’s hearts.
If someone else appeared inside the Imperial Historiography Hall without reporting their arrival, the Imperial Guards would certainly first think that person had trespassed.
But if it was Mo Xi, it was different.
Their first thought would certainly be that Lord Xihe had received some secret mission that did not require informing them.
No one would believe that Lord Xihe could, for the sake of some person or some matter, commit an act that defied the authority of the heavens.
And Mo Xi was betting precisely on this point.
He was betting his thirty years of spotless reputation.
He walked before these dumbfounded Imperial Guards, his sharp gaze sweeping across the faces of these young men.
“There is no rebel,” he said. “It is a secret order from the Military Affairs Office. I need to access the records from that year.”
The Imperial Guard captain hesitated.
“Lord Xihe, do you have His Majesty’s imperial decree token…?”
“I already said it is a secret order.”
Mo Xi’s pale lips moved slightly. Turning his frost-cold face away, he said coldly, “How could there be an imperial decree token?”
“But—”
“This matter concerns military affairs and involves important classified information. I originally did not wish for more people to know. It is only that all of you have diligently performed your duties and discovered me rather quickly.”
Mo Xi looked toward the Imperial Guard captain.
“If Captain has doubts, you may accompany me to His Majesty’s sleeping quarters to verify it.”
Who did not know that His Majesty had been terribly ill these past few days?
If he went over there now to press the matter, he would offend Lord Xihe on one hand, and on the other, he might be scolded harshly by His Majesty and thrown out.
What was more, the person standing before them was Mo Xi.
Chonghua’s most upright and honorable general, the empire’s foremost meritorious commander, a pure-blooded noble from four generations of military lineage.
What reason was there to doubt him?
Once the Imperial Guard captain thought this through, he immediately lowered his head and cupped his hands.
“Lord Xihe, please forgive us. This subordinate was merely conducting a routine inquiry. Please do not take offense!”
Mo Xi said calmly, “It is fine. You only need to remember that what happened today must not be spoken of outside.”
“Yes!”
And so, seemingly calm and cold, Mo Xi left the Imperial Historiography Hall.
Only after he stepped outside and the night wind blew against him did Mo Xi realize that his inner robes were already soaked with sweat.
Although the matter had temporarily been covered up, there was absolutely no wall in the world that could keep out every wind. Mo Xi did not know how long he could keep his investigation of the old case hidden.
Mo Xi gazed at the moon over the imperial capital, at the frost covering the eaves of countless households.
His fingers tightened inside his sleeves, tightly clutching the Qiankun pouch containing the fragments of the jade slips.
Jade slips of historical records damaged to this extent would require the most outstanding artifact-refining master to repair.
He had no time to delay.
He had to immediately find an artifact refiner who was exceptionally skilled and, more importantly, trustworthy, and have them attempt to repair the fragments…
He had barely formed this thought when the figure of a suitable person immediately appeared in his mind.