Chapter 14 — The Dead Man in the Family Portrait

The portrait had been painted when Lu Chen was sixteen.

He remembered because he had been punished the day before.

Not for anything serious.

At least not according to him.

His master disagreed.

Apparently using a medicinal furnace to heat dumplings was a “disgrace to three thousand years of alchemical tradition.”

Lu Chen still believed that was exaggerated.

The dumplings had been excellent.

The portrait hung inside the Valley of Nine Medicines’ Hall of Guardians.

Four men.

Four positions.

Four swords.

At the far left stood the First Guardian, stern and expressionless.

Beside him—

Second Guardian Luo Shen.

Broad shoulders.

Long dark robe.

A wooden walking staff in one hand.

Warm eyes.

The faintest smile.

Lu Chen had called him Second Uncle Luo for almost as long as he could remember.

Not because they were related by blood.

The Valley had been a family built through discipleship.

Masters became fathers.

Senior brothers became brothers.

Elders became uncles.

Sometimes affection mattered more than genealogy.

Luo Shen had taught Lu Chen how to fall without breaking his neck.

Then demonstrated by throwing him down a hill.

He had taught him to distinguish killing intent from ordinary anger.

Then spent two months startling him from behind trees.

He had taught Lu Chen that a physician who could not protect himself eventually became someone else’s medicine chest.

And when Lu Chen had broken his leg at seventeen after ignoring his master’s instructions—

Luo Shen carried him thirteen kilometers down a mountain.

Complaining the entire way.

That man had died five years ago.

At least—

Lu Chen had believed he had.

Now he stood beneath Qin Medical Center staring at a bronze mirror that had shown the silhouette of a dead man.

Qin Ruoxi watched him.

“You’re certain?”

“No.”

She looked toward the dark mirror.

“You said Second Uncle.”

“Yes.”

“Family?”

“Not blood.”

“But close.”

Lu Chen didn’t answer.

That was enough.

Ruoxi leaned against the ancient stone wall.

“What happened to him?”

Lu Chen looked at the mirror again.

“Officially?”

“Yes.”

“He died during the Valley attack.”

“Did you see it?”

“No.”

“Body?”

His expression changed.

“Sort of.”

“That sounds suspicious already.”

“It wasn’t then.”

“What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

Lu Chen remained silent for several seconds.

Then turned away from the Nine-Lock door.

“They found what was left of him near the eastern defense formation.”

“What was left?”

“Burned body.”

“Recognizable?”

“No.”

“Then how was he identified?”

“His staff.”

Ruoxi’s eyes narrowed.

“Anything else?”

“Guardian token.”

“Personal belongings.”

“Yes.”

“Face?”

“No.”

“Fingerprints?”

Lu Chen looked at her.

“We were not exactly running a forensic laboratory while the sect burned.”

“I know.”

Her voice softened.

“I’m asking because you’re treating the identification like certainty.”

He didn’t answer.

She was right.

That irritated him.

Five years ago, there had been no time to question everything.

The Valley was collapsing.

People were dying.

The enemy was everywhere.

When a charred body had been found with Luo Shen’s guardian token and broken staff—

everyone accepted the obvious conclusion.

Second Guardian had died defending the eastern formation.

There had even been witnesses.

Or—

Lu Chen frowned.

Had there?

He searched the memory.

Someone told him.

Who?

Senior Brother Jian?

No.

Elder Mo?

Maybe.

Everything from that night existed in fragments.

Fire destroyed chronology.

Trauma destroyed details.

And for five years Lu Chen had been too busy surviving to reconstruct every death.

Ruoxi watched his face.

“You remembered something.”

“No.”

“You made the expression.”

“What expression?”

“The one where you realize something unpleasant.”

“Xiaoxiao has infected you.”

“With observational skills?”

“With unnecessary commentary.”

She almost smiled.

Then footsteps sounded from the corridor.

Deng Hu appeared.

“Miss Qin.”

Ruoxi straightened.

“What happened?”

“Guo Shan woke up.”

Lu Chen moved before Deng Hu finished.

Guo Shan’s room had been moved twice.

First from the public ICU.

Then from the private wing.

Now he occupied a small surgical recovery room whose existence was absent from the public hospital directory.

Qin Zhenguo had apparently built several of those.

Lu Chen was increasingly interested in how much the old man had never told his family.

Two guards stood outside.

Both personally chosen by Deng Hu.

No hospital employees entered without authorization.

Inside, Dr. Zhao sat beside the monitor.

He had fallen asleep in a chair.

A medical journal rested open on his chest.

Lu Chen looked at him.

Ruoxi whispered:

“He stayed all night.”

“I see that.”

“He said Guo Shan’s cardiac condition might deteriorate.”

“That is reasonable.”

“You’re complimenting him?”

“Don’t wake him. He may become arrogant.”

Too late.

Dr. Zhao opened one eye.

“I heard that.”

Lu Chen checked Guo Shan’s monitor.

“Then sleep less lightly.”

Dr. Zhao sat upright.

“You’re late.”

“For?”

“He regained consciousness twelve minutes ago.”

“And?”

“He asked for you.”

Guo Shan’s eyes opened.

Weak.

But clearer than before.

He looked directly at Lu Chen.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then the older man smiled.

“You really did get old.”

Lu Chen pulled a stool beside the bed.

“You said that already.”

“I wanted to confirm.”

“Your eyesight is damaged.”

“Not that badly.”

Lu Chen checked his pulse.

Better.

Still weak.

Severe damage remained throughout the body.

His cultivation foundation was beyond repair by current methods.

Possibly forever.

But alive.

That was enough for today.

Guo Shan watched him.

“Your pulse-taking hand has changed.”

Lu Chen’s fingers paused.

“You can tell?”

“Barely.”

The older man closed his eyes.

“Warm.”

Life Seed.

Even damaged, Guo Shan had enough experience to sense something unusual.

Lu Chen withdrew his hand.

“My cultivation started recovering.”

Guo Shan’s eyes opened instantly.

“How?”

“Complicated.”

“Your master’s kind of complicated?”

“Probably.”

Guo Shan laughed.

Then winced.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

“You started it.”

Ruoxi approached quietly.

Guo Shan looked toward her.

“Qin family?”

She nodded.

“Qin Ruoxi.”

“Zhenguo’s granddaughter?”

“You know my grandfather?”

Guo Shan smiled faintly.

“Everyone in the Valley knew the foolish merchant who carried a poisoned disciple toward a hidden mountain.”

Ruoxi’s expression changed.

“My grandfather said almost nobody knew about that.”

“Almost.”

“Did you meet him?”

“I was one of the men sent to retrieve the medicine shipment.”

Her eyes widened.

Lu Chen turned sharply.

“You were there?”

Guo Shan nodded.

“Not during the attack.”

He breathed slowly.

“I arrived afterward.”

“You knew about the guest token?”

“Yes.”

“Why did Master give it to Qin Zhenguo?”

Guo Shan looked at Lu Chen.

“That question can wait.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Senior Uncle.”

“Little Chen.”

They stared at each other.

Ruoxi looked between them.

Dr. Zhao quietly moved his chair farther away.

Experienced man.

Guo Shan finally sighed.

“You still don’t know when to stop.”

“You taught me persistence.”

“I taught you self-defense.”

“Same principle.”

“Not even remotely.”

Lu Chen leaned forward.

“Why did Master give Qin Zhenguo a Valley guest token?”

Guo Shan’s expression became more serious.

“Because your master believed Jiangzhou would matter one day.”

Silence.

Ruoxi frowned.

“Why?”

“He never told me.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes.”

Annoying.

“Did he tell anyone?”

“Second Guardian.”

Everything in Lu Chen went still.

Guo Shan noticed.

“What?”

“Luo Shen.”

Guo Shan’s face changed.

Not dramatically.

But enough.

“Why are you asking about him?”

Lu Chen looked at Ruoxi.

She closed the room door.

Then he placed the small bronze mirror on Guo Shan’s blanket.

The older man stared at it.

His breathing changed.

“Where did you get this?”

“Beneath the hospital.”

Guo Shan looked toward Ruoxi.

“Your family found the vault?”

“We found part of it.”

Guo Shan closed his eyes.

“Then the old fool’s plan worked.”

Lu Chen’s voice sharpened.

“What plan?”

His senior uncle opened his eyes.

“Your master’s.”

“Explain.”

Guo Shan looked exhausted already.

But something in Lu Chen’s expression told him evasion was over.

“The Jiangzhou vault wasn’t created by the Valley.”

“What?”

“It was discovered.”

Ruoxi stepped closer.

“When?”

“Thirty-three years ago.”

“Before my grandfather built the hospital.”

“Yes.”

“Who discovered it?”

Guo Shan looked toward Lu Chen.

“Luo Shen.”

Silence.

Lu Chen felt something cold settle in his chest.

“Second Uncle found it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

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“We never knew.”

“Master?”

“Knew more than he admitted.”

Of course.

That sentence had become the story of Lu Chen’s life.

Guo Shan continued.

“The structure beneath this hospital is older than the Valley of Nine Medicines as we knew it.”

“How old?”

“No one determined.”

“Hundreds of years?”

“Thousands, maybe.”

Ruoxi stared.

Dr. Zhao looked toward the floor as though reconsidering the structural integrity of his workplace.

Guo Shan continued.

“The Nine-Lock symbol already existed here.”

Lu Chen’s brows drew together.

“The Valley copied it?”

“Yes.”

That changed everything.

He had assumed the symbol belonged to his sect.

Apparently the sect had inherited it from something older.

“The Nine Medicines inheritance?”

Guo Shan’s gaze snapped toward him.

“You found it.”

Not a question.

Lu Chen said nothing.

Guo Shan laughed weakly.

“The old bastard actually succeeded.”

“My master?”

“Yes.”

“What did he succeed at?”

Guo Shan looked around.

“Who knows?”

“Ruoxi.”

Lu Chen pointed.

“Dr. Zhao.”

The cardiologist raised one hand slightly.

“Unfortunately.”

Guo Shan almost smiled.

Lu Chen continued.

“Deng Hu outside.”

“No cultivators?”

“Not nearby.”

Guo Shan became serious.

“Good.”

He lowered his voice.

“The Nine Medicines inheritance did not originate with the Valley.”

Lu Chen’s pulse changed.

“Where did it come from?”

“We don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Very little.”

“Try me.”

Guo Shan stared at the ceiling.

“Our oldest records said the founder of the Valley discovered only fragments.”

“Fragments of what?”

“A medical inheritance.”

Lu Chen thought of the blank manuscript.

Nine Medicines.

Nine Gates.

“Why hide it?”

“Because everyone who seriously investigated it died.”

Silence.

Dr. Zhao cleared his throat.

“I preferred when the problem was heart disease.”

No one disagreed.

Lu Chen leaned closer.

“How did they die?”

“Different ways.”

“Specific.”

“One disappeared.”

“Another?”

“Cultivation deviation.”

“Another?”

“Murdered.”

“By whom?”

“Unknown.”

“Upper Court?”

Guo Shan’s face darkened.

“The name did not exist then.”

“How far back?”

“Centuries.”

That was much larger than the current conspiracy.

Too large for Chapter Fourteen.

Lu Chen mentally set it aside.

Immediate first.

“Luo Shen.”

Guo Shan’s eyes changed again.

“What about him?”

“The mirror showed his silhouette.”

Guo Shan stopped breathing for half a second.

Then:

“Impossible.”

“You saw what happened in the Valley.”

“I saw enough.”

“Did you see Luo Shen die?”

Guo Shan answered immediately.

“Yes.”

That changed the room.

Lu Chen sat straighter.

“You saw the body?”

“No.”

“You just said—”

“I saw him die.”

“How?”

Guo Shan’s expression became distant.

“Three days before the final attack.”

Silence.

Lu Chen stared.

“What?”

“Luo Shen died three days before the Valley fell.”

The words did not fit.

They could not.

“The official story—”

“Was false.”

Lu Chen’s voice became cold.

“Why?”

“To hide the breach.”

Ruoxi leaned forward.

“What breach?”

Guo Shan looked toward Lu Chen.

“The Nine-Lock Repository.”

Everything connected.

Pei Mingshan.

The stolen seal.

The scarred infiltrator.

Luo Shen.

“Start at the beginning,” Lu Chen said.

Guo Shan closed his eyes.

Then opened them again.

“Three days before the attack, Second Guardian summoned me to the repository.”

“Why you?”

“I supervised external security.”

“What did he find?”

“Someone had entered the Ninth Lock.”

Lu Chen’s jaw tightened.

“Impossible.”

“That is what I said.”

“The Ninth Lock required Valley Master authority.”

“Normally.”

“And the Keeper’s seal.”

“Yes.”

“Pei Mingshan was dead.”

Guo Shan looked at him.

“We believed so.”

“Luo Shen?”

“Had been investigating Pei’s old access records for months.”

“Why?”

“He discovered movement.”

“What kind?”

“Repository doors opening when no authorized keeper was present.”

Ruoxi frowned.

“Someone had access for years?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

Guo Shan’s eyes moved toward Lu Chen.

“At least twenty-two.”

Exactly what Returning Spring’s memory had shown.

Lu Chen’s hands tightened.

“Then what happened?”

“Luo Shen entered the Ninth Lock.”

“With you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“He told me to guard the outer corridor.”

“Then?”

Guo Shan’s face changed.

“I heard fighting.”

Lu Chen stopped moving.

“I entered.”

“And?”

“Luo Shen was on the floor.”

“Alive?”

“Barely.”

“Who attacked him?”

Guo Shan swallowed.

“I didn’t see a face.”

Of course.

“A robe?”

“Valley robes.”

“Rank?”

“Guardian.”

Ruoxi looked sharply at Lu Chen.

Guo Shan continued.

“I attacked.”

“What happened?”

“They escaped through a passage behind the Ninth Lock.”

Lu Chen frowned.

“There was no passage.”

“There was.”

“What?”

“None of us knew.”

“Master?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did Luo Shen say?”

Guo Shan’s expression became pained.

“He told me not to trust his face.”

Silence.

The same message as the bronze mirror.

Faces are the least reliable part of a man.

Lu Chen felt cold.

“What exactly?”

Guo Shan breathed slowly.

“His last words were…”

The older man closed his eyes.

“‘If you see me again, it isn’t me.’”

No one spoke.

Not Lu Chen.

Not Ruoxi.

Not even Dr. Zhao.

Guo Shan opened his eyes.

“He died in my arms.”

Lu Chen looked away.

Second Uncle Luo.

Really dead.

At least according to Guo Shan.

Three days before the attack.

Then who had been identified as his corpse at the eastern formation?

A staged body.

A cover story.

Someone needed the Valley to believe Luo Shen died during the attack rather than before it.

Why?

To hide that the Repository had already been compromised.

Or to use his identity afterward.

Lu Chen looked back.

“Who ordered you to keep his earlier death secret?”

Guo Shan’s expression changed.

That was answer enough.

“Who?”

“Your master.”

Lu Chen went still.

Of course.

“Why?”

“He said if the enemy knew we discovered the infiltration, everyone would die sooner.”

“They died anyway.”

Guo Shan flinched.

Lu Chen regretted the words instantly.

Not because they were false.

Because they were cruel.

Guo Shan looked toward the ceiling.

“Yes.”

Quiet.

“They did.”

Lu Chen exhaled.

“Sorry.”

Guo Shan’s eyes moved back to him.

“You learned manners.”

“Temporary condition.”

“That sounds better.”

Ruoxi walked toward the window.

There wasn’t one.

She turned back.

“So Luo Shen was not the traitor.”

“Correct,” Guo Shan said.

“Someone used his face.”

“Likely.”

“And Pei Mingshan’s authority.”

“Yes.”

“Possibly his face too.”

“Yes.”

She looked at Lu Chen.

“Seven faces.”

He nodded.

The bronze mirror had shown seven silhouettes.

Dead identities.

Trusted identities.

The enemy was not merely disguising appearance.

It was inheriting credibility.

A dead Valley elder could pass checkpoints.

A missing Keeper could open repositories.

A trusted guardian could issue orders.

That was far more dangerous than shape-shifting.

It was institutional infiltration.

Lu Chen hated that he understood how effective it was.

“Can a cultivation technique truly change a person’s face?” Ruoxi asked.

Guo Shan answered:

“Several.”

“Height?”

“Some.”

“Voice?”

“Yes.”

“Life Meridian?”

Guo Shan looked toward Lu Chen.

“That is harder.”

Exactly why the mirror said to watch it.

Lu Chen leaned forward.

“Could two different bodies have identical Life Meridian patterns?”

“No.”

“Not even twins?”

“Similar. Not identical.”

“Cultivation disguise?”

“Can obscure.”

“Alter?”

“Temporarily.”

“Perfectly?”

Guo Shan hesitated.

“I have never seen it.”

Lu Chen remembered the scarred man entering an elevator and another face leaving.

Same underlying pattern in the mirror.

So the Life Meridian was the fingerprint.

Good.

That gave him something the enemy might not know he could use.

Unless they already knew.

They probably did.

Annoying.

“Senior Uncle.”

Guo Shan looked at him.

“Who was the Guardian who attacked Luo Shen?”

“I said I didn’t see the face.”

“But you saw something.”

Silence.

“Height?”

“Average.”

“Build?”

“Male.”

“Technique?”

Guo Shan’s expression changed.

There.

“Technique.”

“What?”

“One strike.”

“Which?”

“Palm.”

“Describe it.”

Guo Shan hesitated.

Then raised his right hand weakly.

“Attack came from below.”

He demonstrated.

“Internal force entered through the ribs, split into three channels.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“Three-Branch Breaking Palm.”

Guo Shan nodded.

The technique was Valley-specific.

Not medical.

Combat.

Taught only to four guardians and the Valley Master.

Lu Chen’s master could use it.

Luo Shen could use it.

First Guardian.

Third Guardian.

Fourth Guardian.

And—

Lu Chen.

Eventually.

“Who knew it then?” Ruoxi asked.

Lu Chen answered.

“Five people.”

“Living?”

“At that time.”

“Now?”

Lu Chen did not answer.

Because all five, except perhaps his master, were believed dead or missing.

Convenient.

Ruoxi looked toward Guo Shan.

“Could the attacker have copied the technique?”

“Yes.”

“How difficult?”

“Very.”

Lu Chen thought.

One strike was not proof.

But it narrowed the possibilities.

“First Guardian?”

“Died twelve years before the attack.”

“Body?”

Guo Shan looked at him.

“Confirmed.”

“Third Guardian?”

“Died during the Valley attack.”

“Body?”

“Confirmed by several disciples.”

“Fourth?”

Guo Shan’s expression changed.

Lu Chen noticed immediately.

“What?”

The older man looked away.

“Fourth Guardian disappeared six months before Luo Shen died.”

Lu Chen’s face hardened.

“Why was I never told?”

“You were a disciple.”

“I was twenty-three.”

“A young disciple.”

“I created Heaven-Reversing Life Art at twenty-three.”

“And became more annoying because of it.”

Not wrong.

“Name.”

Guo Shan sighed.

“Shen Tuo.”

Lu Chen knew the name.

Everyone did.

Fourth Guardian Shen Tuo.

Quiet.

Severe.

Rarely inside the Valley.

Responsible for external intelligence and medicinal trade routes.

Lu Chen had met him perhaps ten times.

Never liked him.

Not because Shen Tuo was cruel.

Because he always watched people as though calculating their price.

“Why did he disappear?”

“Mission.”

“Where?”

“No one knew.”

“Ordered by Master?”

“Supposedly.”

“Supposedly?”

“Your master denied sending him.”

Silence.

That was significant.

Ruoxi asked:

“Then someone forged the order.”

“Yes.”

Lu Chen’s mind connected threads.

Fourth Guardian disappears.

Months later Luo Shen discovers long-term Repository infiltration.

Three days before Valley destruction, Luo Shen is killed by someone using a Valley Guardian technique.

Then the sect falls.

Shen Tuo could be involved.

Or another stolen identity.

No conclusions.

Not yet.

“What did Fourth Guardian look like?” Ruoxi asked.

Lu Chen stared at her.

She shrugged.

“I’m going to search thirty years of records. A description helps.”

Guo Shan answered:

“Tall. Thin. Left-handed.”

“Scar?”

“No.”

“Distinctive?”

“He wore prayer beads.”

Lu Chen remembered.

Dark red wood.

Always on right wrist.

The bronze mirror had shown seven silhouettes too quickly.

Had one carried beads?

He wasn’t sure.

Memory was dangerous when motivated.

He would not force it.

“Get the old Valley portrait records if we can find them,” Lu Chen said.

Ruoxi nodded.

“Where?”

Lu Chen looked at Guo Shan.

The older man smiled tiredly.

“You really don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Your master kept copies.”

“Where?”

“Jiangzhou.”

Lu Chen stared.

“Where in Jiangzhou?”

Guo Shan’s smile widened.

“Ask Qin Zhenguo.”

Ruoxi closed her eyes.

“My grandfather has been hiding things again.”

“Yes.”

Lu Chen almost felt sorry for the old man.

Almost.

Qin Zhenguo arrived forty minutes later.

In a wheelchair.

Angry about the wheelchair.

Accompanied by two nurses.

Angry about the nurses.

And carrying a thermos of medicinal soup.

Apparently not angry about the soup.

He entered Guo Shan’s room.

Stopped.

For the first time since Lu Chen had met him—

Qin Zhenguo looked genuinely shaken.

“Guardian Guo.”

Guo Shan smiled faintly.

“Foolish merchant.”

Ruoxi stared.

“Grandfather?”

Qin Zhenguo laughed.

A rough, emotional sound.

“You’re alive.”

“Apparently.”

The old men looked at each other.

Thirty-one years of history passed silently between them.

Lu Chen folded his arms.

“So everyone knew everyone except me.”

Qin looked toward him.

“You were not born when we met.”

“That has never prevented old people from withholding information.”

“Respect your elders.”

“Answer the question.”

“What question?”

“Portraits.”

Qin Zhenguo froze.

Ruoxi sighed.

“Grandfather.”

He looked toward Guo Shan.

“You told him?”

“A little.”

“Traitor.”

Guo Shan smiled.

“Wrong word lately.”

That killed the humor.

Qin’s expression became serious.

“Yes.”

He looked at Lu Chen.

“There is an archive.”

“Where?”

“Not here.”

“Where?”

“My old house.”

“Which old house?”

Qin hesitated.

Ruoxi stared.

“We have an old house?”

Qin looked uncomfortable.

Lu Chen almost enjoyed this.

“Apparently the Qin family has hidden properties now.”

Ruoxi gave him a look.

“Not helping.”

Qin sighed.

“A residence outside Jiangzhou.”

“How far?”

“Forty kilometers north.”

“What’s inside?”

“Things entrusted to me.”

“By Master?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Over many years.”

Lu Chen’s expression hardened.

“You said you never maintained contact.”

“I did not.”

“Then how did he give you things over many years?”

“Other people delivered them.”

“Who?”

Qin thought.

“Different people.”

“Names?”

“Some.”

“Valley disciples?”

“Sometimes.”

“Luo Shen?”

Qin’s face changed.

There.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Several times.”

“Last?”

Qin looked toward Guo Shan.

“Twenty-six years ago.”

Before Luo Shen’s death.

Long before the Valley fell.

“What did he deliver?”

“Portraits.”

Ruoxi leaned forward.

“Why?”

Qin looked toward Lu Chen.

“Your master said one day someone might try to erase the Valley.”

Silence.

Lu Chen’s chest tightened.

“And?”

“He wanted a copy of every important record kept somewhere beyond cultivation circles.”

“Why trust you?”

“I asked the same.”

Of course.

“What did he say?”

Qin Zhenguo smiled faintly.

“He said cultivators search sects.”

“And?”

“They rarely search boring businessmen.”

Lu Chen almost laughed.

That sounded painfully like his master.

“What else is stored there?”

Qin looked away.

“Some books.”

“How many?”

“Several.”

“Several.”

“Yes.”

“Define several.”

“Perhaps…”

He hesitated.

“Two hundred.”

Lu Chen stared.

Ruoxi stared.

Guo Shan began laughing and immediately regretted it.

Qin continued quickly.

“Mostly copies.”

“What else?”

“Medical notes.”

“What else?”

“Old photographs.”

“What else?”

“Sealed boxes.”

Lu Chen’s voice became dangerously calm.

“How many boxes?”

“Sixteen.”

Ruoxi covered her face.

“Grandfather.”

Qin became defensive.

“I was told not to open them!”

“You built a secret Valley archive and never mentioned it?”

“I did not build it.”

“Who did?”

Silence.

Ruoxi lowered her hands.

“Grandfather.”

Qin reluctantly answered:

“Luo Shen.”

The room went silent again.

Lu Chen stared.

“When?”

“Thirty years ago.”

One year after Qin first encountered the Valley.

One year before Qin built the hospital.

“Why did Luo Shen build an archive near Jiangzhou?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did Master know?”

“Yes.”

“Who else?”

Qin looked toward Guo Shan.

“Possibly him.”

Guo Shan shook his head.

“Not location.”

Interesting.

The archive had been compartmentalized.

Master knew.

Luo Shen knew.

Qin knew.

Perhaps few others.

Which meant it might have survived precisely because the traitor did not know where it was.

Unless they did.

Lu Chen stood.

“We go tonight.”

Qin Zhenguo immediately said:

“No.”

Everyone looked at him.

Lu Chen raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“It has been untouched for five years.”

“That is the point.”

“No.”

Qin’s expression became serious.

“Your master left instructions.”

“What instructions?”

“The archive opens only when two conditions are met.”

Lu Chen stared.

“What conditions?”

Qin looked toward Returning Spring at Lu Chen’s side.

“First, the sword returns.”

One.

Lu Chen’s expression tightened.

“And second?”

Qin looked directly at him.

“The Ghost Physician begins cultivating again.”

Silence.

Ruoxi slowly turned toward Lu Chen.

Guo Shan closed his eyes.

Dr. Zhao muttered:

“I no longer enjoy predictions.”

Lu Chen touched his lower abdomen.

Life Seed.

One reopened meridian.

The second condition had occurred last night.

Which meant—

the archive could now open.

Again, his master had anticipated everything.

Or at least built multiple contingencies.

Lu Chen was beginning to suspect the old man had slept even less than he pretended.

“How does the archive know?” Ruoxi asked.

Qin answered:

“I don’t know.”

“Helpful.”

“I am a businessman.”

“You own hospitals.”

“Not ancient magical archives.”

Dr. Zhao looked offended.

“Can we stop saying magical?”

No one responded.

They agreed to wait until Guo Shan was more stable before traveling north.

“Agreed” was generous.

Qin Zhenguo ordered it.

Ruoxi supported him.

Dr. Zhao threatened medical consequences.

Lu Chen discovered that being a recovering cultivator did not prevent a coalition of elderly patients, executives, and cardiologists from overruling him.

So he returned to the clinic.

At 3:46 in the afternoon.

Xiaoxiao sat at the consultation table drawing.

Madam Zhou had apparently picked her up early.

Lu Chen checked the time.

“You’re supposed to be at school.”

“Teacher meeting.”

He looked at Madam Zhou.

She nodded.

True.

Good.

Xiaoxiao held up the drawing.

“I made family.”

Lu Chen stopped.

A large sheet of paper.

Crayon people.

One small figure with pigtails.

One taller man with absurdly long arms.

One woman in a blue dress.

Another older woman.

A rabbit.

And something resembling a sword.

Lu Chen pointed.

“Why is the sword in the family?”

Xiaoxiao looked confused.

“It lives here.”

“That is not how family works.”

“Rabbit lives here.”

“The rabbit is stuffed.”

“Still family.”

Lu Chen decided not to enter the philosophical trap.

He pointed toward the blue-dress figure.

“Who is that?”

Xiaoxiao smiled.

“Pretty Auntie.”

Of course.

“And Grandma Zhou?”

The older figure.

“And this?”

The sword.

“Returning Spring.”

“And this?”

He pointed to a strange black stick figure in the corner.

Xiaoxiao’s smile disappeared.

“Bad man.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“Why is there a bad man in the family picture?”

“He’s not family.”

“Then why is he there?”

“He’s watching.”

Lu Chen stopped breathing.

Madam Zhou looked over.

“She drew that before you came.”

His gaze moved toward the figure.

Tall.

Black.

One arm longer than the other because children did not understand proportions.

No face.

Just a circle head.

He crouched.

“Xiaoxiao.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you draw him?”

She shrugged.

“I saw him.”

Everything inside Lu Chen became cold.

“Where?”

“Outside.”

“When?”

“Today.”

Madam Zhou’s expression changed.

“What?”

Xiaoxiao pointed toward the broken-window side of the clinic.

“Across the road.”

Lu Chen stood immediately.

“What did he look like?”

“Old.”

“Scar?”

She thought.

“No.”

“Hair?”

“Gray.”

“Clothes?”

“Black.”

“Did he speak to you?”

“No.”

“Did he come inside?”

“No.”

“How long was he there?”

Xiaoxiao shrugged.

“Little.”

Madam Zhou looked worried.

“I didn’t see anyone.”

Lu Chen took out his phone.

Called Ruoxi.

“Camera footage. Clinic street. Today.”

Her voice changed immediately.

“What happened?”

“Someone watched Xiaoxiao.”

“I’ll get it.”

The call ended.

Lu Chen crouched again.

“Did the man do anything?”

Xiaoxiao thought carefully.

Then nodded.

“He smiled.”

That did not help.

“How?”

She demonstrated.

A normal smile.

Not frightening.

Which somehow made it worse.

“Anything else?”

“He touched his wrist.”

Lu Chen’s attention sharpened.

“Which wrist?”

She raised her left.

“What was on it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bracelet?”

“Maybe.”

“What color?”

“Red.”

Prayer beads.

Fourth Guardian Shen Tuo wore dark red prayer beads.

Lu Chen’s pulse changed.

No.

Too easy.

He refused the conclusion immediately.

Could be anyone.

Could be deliberate misdirection.

Could be a bracelet.

Could be unrelated.

He looked toward the street.

Whoever had stood there had allowed a four-year-old to notice him.

Why?

A warning?

Observation?

Or a test of Lu Chen’s response?

His phone rang.

Ruoxi.

“That was fast.”

“I pulled the municipal camera feed.”

“And?”

“Your street camera glitched for eleven minutes.”

Of course.

“Other cameras?”

“Convenience store at the corner caught part of him.”

“Send.”

Image arrived.

Poor angle.

Male.

Older.

Black coat.

Gray hair.

Face turned away.

Left wrist—

dark red beads.

Lu Chen stared.

Ruoxi continued:

“I ran the image against public databases.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“If he wants us to identify him through a face, the face may be the lie.”

Silence.

Then:

“Life Meridian.”

“Yes.”

“We need you close.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you recognize the beads?”

“Maybe.”

“Who?”

Lu Chen looked toward Xiaoxiao.

She was adding flowers to her family portrait.

“Fourth Guardian Shen Tuo.”

Ruoxi went silent.

“The missing one.”

“Yes.”

“Possible traitor.”

“Possible.”

“And he was watching your daughter.”

“Yes.”

Her voice hardened.

“I’ll send security.”

“No visible security.”

“Lu Chen.”

“No armed parade outside my clinic.”

“Your daughter—”

“I know.”

His voice became colder than hers.

“I know.”

Ruoxi stopped.

“I’ll place plainclothes coverage two streets out.”

He considered.

“Fine.”

“I am not negotiating further.”

“Good.”

The call ended.

Lu Chen looked at Xiaoxiao.

She noticed his expression.

“Big trouble face?”

“Yes.”

“Because bad man?”

“Maybe.”

She walked over.

Placed the crayon in his hand.

“Draw him better.”

Lu Chen looked at the blank-faced figure.

“I’m not good at drawing.”

“I know.”

He stared at her.

She smiled.

At least some threats remained ordinary.

That evening, Lu Chen closed the clinic early.

He checked every window.

Every lock.

Every roof access point.

He placed small medicinal powders at entryways—not mystical formations, simply substances that would reveal footprints or disturbed air.

Old Valley habits.

Xiaoxiao watched.

“Are we playing detective?”

“No.”

“Looks like detective.”

“Go brush your teeth.”

She saluted.

“Okay.”

He watched her climb the stairs.

Then Returning Spring hummed.

Once.

Lu Chen froze.

The sword lay against the wall.

He approached.

No one nearby.

No obvious spiritual pressure.

Yet the blade had reacted.

He placed one hand on the hilt.

Life Seed pulsed.

One functioning meridian opened slightly.

The world sharpened.

Not dramatically.

Sounds clearer.

Airflow.

Heartbeat.

A faint presence.

Outside.

Roof.

Lu Chen moved.

Fast.

Faster than he had moved in five years.

Not former speed.

Not close.

But enough.

He reached the rear stairs.

Climbed.

Pushed open the roof door.

Empty.

Night wind.

Water tanks.

Neighboring rooftops.

Then—

a figure stood on the building opposite.

Black coat.

Gray hair.

Dark red prayer beads around one wrist.

The same man.

He faced Lu Chen.

Distance of perhaps twenty meters.

Lu Chen activated Life Meridian perception.

Golden threads appeared.

For one second—

the man’s channels became visible.

Lu Chen’s heart stopped.

Not because he recognized them.

Because he didn’t.

No Valley Guardian he remembered had meridians shaped like that.

Too many forced pathways.

Three major channels had been rerouted.

Artificially altered.

The man smiled.

“You learned quickly.”

Lu Chen placed one hand on Returning Spring.

“Who are you?”

The man looked toward the clinic below.

“Your daughter draws well.”

Every trace of warmth left Lu Chen’s face.

“Do not speak about her.”

The stranger smiled slightly.

“There he is.”

“Who?”

“The boy from the Valley.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“Name.”

The man raised his left hand.

Prayer beads clicked.

“Does this help?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Faces lie.”

The smile widened.

“Good.”

So he knew about the mirror.

That mattered.

“Life Meridians are harder.”

The stranger’s expression changed for the first time.

Only slightly.

Then:

“Your master prepared you well.”

“You knew him.”

“Yes.”

“Shen Tuo?”

The man laughed.

“No.”

Too fast?

Maybe deliberate.

“Then why his prayer beads?”

He looked at the beads.

“These?”

One finger rolled across them.

“He gave them to me.”

“When?”

“Before he died.”

Lu Chen’s expression hardened.

“Shen Tuo is dead?”

The stranger tilted his head.

“Aren’t all your uncles dead?”

Loaded sentence.

“Second Guardian Luo Shen died three days before the attack.”

The stranger’s smile faded.

Interesting.

“You spoke to Guo Shan.”

“Yes.”

“Then he remembers more than expected.”

“You branded him with Yan Wusheng’s identity?”

“No.”

Truth?

Hard to tell.

Life Meridian showed tension but not enough.

“Who did?”

The stranger looked toward the eastern skyline.

“People who enjoy dead names.”

“You?”

“Sometimes.”

At least honest.

“Who are you?”

He looked back.

“A messenger.”

“From whom?”

“The person who owns the name you are chasing.”

“Yan Wusheng is dead.”

This time—

the man laughed.

Genuinely.

“Is he?”

Lu Chen’s grip tightened.

“You know.”

“I know names die more slowly than people.”

Exactly the pattern.

“Is Yan Wusheng a person or a title?”

The stranger stopped laughing.

Good question.

Lu Chen saw it.

“Interesting.”

The man studied him.

“You really are his disciple.”

“Answer.”

“No.”

Of course.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“Then leave.”

“I came to warn you.”

“About what?”

“The archive north of Jiangzhou.”

Lu Chen went still.

Someone had ears everywhere.

“Don’t open it.”

“My master intended me to.”

“Your master intended many things.”

The stranger’s voice changed.

“He was wrong about one.”

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“You.”

Silence.

The statement was designed to provoke.

It almost worked.

Lu Chen remained still.

“Explain.”

“He believed if you lost your cultivation, you would become cautious.”

The man smiled.

“He badly underestimated your talent for walking directly into trouble.”

Lu Chen almost laughed.

That also sounded like something his master might believe.

“How do you know what he believed?”

“No answer.”

“Were you Valley?”

The stranger’s face became unreadable.

Then:

“For longer than you.”

That mattered.

“Which generation?”

No answer.

“Guardian?”

Nothing.

“Keeper?”

Tiny reaction.

There.

Lu Chen noticed.

Nine-Lock Repository.

“Pei Mingshan?”

The stranger smiled.

“Dead.”

“Luo Shen?”

“Dead.”

“Shen Tuo?”

The prayer beads clicked once.

“Dead.”

Three answers.

Same word.

“Who killed them?”

The stranger looked at him.

“Not the same person.”

That was information.

Unintentional?

Probably not.

He wanted Lu Chen to have it.

Why?

“Why warn me away from the archive?”

“Because the thing inside does not belong to you.”

“What thing?”

The man looked toward Returning Spring.

“You think your master hid records there.”

“He did.”

“Yes.”

The stranger’s voice softened.

“But records are not why the archive was built.”

Lu Chen’s Life Seed pulsed.

“What is?”

The man turned slightly.

“Ask Qin Zhenguo what lies beneath the cellar.”

“What cellar?”

No answer.

“You’re wasting my time.”

“No.”

The stranger’s eyes shifted toward the clinic below.

“I am extending your daughter’s.”

That did it.

Lu Chen moved.

Returning Spring left the scabbard.

One reopened meridian flooded with qi.

The distance between rooftops was too wide for his current strength.

Lu Chen did not jump.

He threw a needle.

The man’s eyes changed.

He shifted.

The needle passed his shoulder.

Exactly where Lu Chen expected.

Second needle.

Hidden behind first.

The stranger raised his hand.

Caught it.

And froze.

Golden Life Essence traveled through the metal.

Not enough to injure.

Enough to expose.

His altered Life Meridian reacted.

For half a second—

the artificial rerouting disappeared.

The original pattern surfaced.

Lu Chen saw it.

His heart slammed.

Familiar.

Not Shen Tuo.

Not Luo Shen.

Someone else.

A memory.

A man kneeling beside a sixteen-year-old Lu Chen after training.

Laughing.

Bandaging his hand.

Calling him an idiot.

Lu Chen whispered:

“No…”

The stranger ripped the needle out.

The artificial meridians returned.

But too late.

Lu Chen had seen.

The man’s smile disappeared.

“That was clever.”

Lu Chen stared.

“Senior Brother Jian?”

Silence.

Wind crossed the rooftops.

The stranger’s expression revealed nothing.

But he did not laugh.

Senior Brother Jian.

Jian Wei.

Lu Chen’s oldest senior brother.

The disciple who had shouted during the Valley attack that the defensive formation had been opened from inside.

The man Lu Chen remembered bleeding near the western gate.

The man whose corpse—

No.

Lu Chen had never seen his corpse.

He had only been told Jian Wei died.

Another dead identity.

Or—

another stolen face without the face.

Life Meridian.

The pattern had been his.

Could even that be forged?

The bronze mirror had said harder.

Not impossible.

Lu Chen refused certainty.

“Are you Jian Wei?”

The stranger looked at him for a long time.

Then smiled sadly.

A completely different smile from before.

One Lu Chen remembered.

That hurt more than anger.

“Still too quick to trust what you recognize.”

Then he stepped backward.

Lu Chen’s eyes narrowed.

“Stop.”

“Open the archive if you want.”

The man’s voice carried across the gap.

“But when you do…”

He looked toward the dark city.

“…do not let Qin Zhenguo enter first.”

“Why?”

“Because the archive remembers blood.”

Lu Chen frowned.

“What does that mean?”

The stranger continued backing toward the far roof edge.

“And Little Chen?”

Lu Chen froze.

Only Valley family called him that.

The man smiled.

“Your rabbit apples were always terrible.”

Then he fell backward.

Lu Chen rushed to the edge.

Nothing.

No body.

No sound.

A narrow alley below.

Empty.

He had disappeared.

Lu Chen stood beneath the night sky.

Returning Spring in one hand.

Heart pounding.

Senior Brother Jian.

Alive?

An impostor?

A manipulated body?

Someone who somehow possessed his Life Meridian pattern and childhood memories?

The enemy had seven faces.

Perhaps Lu Chen had just met one.

Or perhaps—

he had just met someone who had survived five years by pretending to be the enemy.

His phone vibrated.

Qin Ruoxi.

Lu Chen answered.

“What?”

“We found the cellar.”

He became still.

“What cellar?”

“At my grandfather’s old house.”

Of course.

“How?”

“He finally told us.”

“And?”

Ruoxi’s voice sounded wrong.

“Lu Chen…”

“What?”

“There is a door beneath it.”

His grip tightened.

“What kind?”

“Nine-Lock symbol.”

Another one.

“Anything else?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“My grandfather saw the photograph of Fourth Guardian Shen Tuo.”

Lu Chen waited.

Ruoxi continued:

“He says Shen Tuo visited the house twenty-nine years ago.”

That was not impossible.

Shen Tuo had still been alive then.

“What did he do?”

“He brought one of the sixteen sealed boxes.”

“And?”

Ruoxi’s voice became quieter.

“My grandfather says Shen Tuo told him…”

She hesitated.

“…‘If Luo Shen ever returns, kill him before he speaks.’”

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

One dead guardian distrusted another.

One senior brother possibly alive.

A false Pei Mingshan.

A hidden archive.

And somewhere in the middle—

his master had known enough to prepare for all of it.

Lu Chen looked toward the rooftop where the stranger had disappeared.

“What did you get yourself into, old man?”

Returning Spring hummed softly.

No answer.

An hour later, in a dark room far from the clinic, the gray-haired stranger removed the prayer beads from his wrist.

Then removed the face.

Not literally.

His features shimmered.

Shifted.

The old appearance disappeared.

A younger man stood before the mirror.

Late thirties.

Sharp features.

A scar through one eyebrow.

He looked at the acupuncture mark on his shoulder.

Golden residue remained.

His expression became complicated.

A woman behind him spoke.

“You let him touch your Life Meridian.”

“He surprised me.”

“That doesn’t happen often.”

“No.”

She stepped closer.

“Did he recognize you?”

The man looked into the mirror.

For a long time.

“Yes.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not enough.”

The woman’s expression hardened.

“You were ordered not to contact him.”

“I stopped taking orders five years ago.”

“That is debatable.”

He looked down at the red prayer beads.

“Did Guo Shan remember Luo Shen?”

“Yes.”

“Then time is shorter than we thought.”

The woman crossed her arms.

“What about the archive?”

“He’ll open it.”

“You warned him.”

“He never listened to warnings.”

A faint smile appeared.

“You sound fond of him.”

The man’s eyes became distant.

“He was my little brother.”

Not by blood.

By Valley.

The woman studied him.

“And now?”

He looked at the golden needle mark.

“Now I don’t know what he is becoming.”

A voice came from the darkness behind them.

“You should be more concerned with what you are becoming.”

Both turned.

A figure stood in the doorway.

Black robes.

Crescent ring.

The younger man’s expression became cold.

“Did he send you?”

“No.”

“Then leave.”

The newcomer smiled.

“Luo Shen wants the archive opened.”

The younger man froze.

Then slowly looked up.

“You said Luo Shen?”

“Yes.”

His face changed.

Not fear.

Something worse.

Recognition.

“Luo Shen is dead.”

The newcomer’s smile widened.

“Which one?”