Since all these rules and superstitions are outdated, what's wrong with me indulging in some me

Lu Changsheng leaned against the door frame and rubbed his eyes.

"I know."

Looking at the butler's perpetually expressionless face, Lu Changsheng suddenly asked, "How many years have you been in the castle?"

The butler was silent for a moment.

That moment was very brief, lasting only a fraction of a second, but Lu Changsheng captured it.

"It's been a long time," the butler said.

He didn't say how many years, and Lu Changsheng didn't press him for details.

"Tell the master that the lake will be cleaned up by tonight."

The butler gave a slight bow, turned, and left. His black robe cast a shadow in the corridor, and his footsteps were unhurried, exactly the same as when he arrived.

Lu Changsheng closed the door, stood behind it, and listened to the butler's footsteps getting farther and farther away, finally disappearing in the direction of the stairwell.

Lu Changsheng left the door panel, walked to the window, and drew back the curtains.

It was already broad daylight.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his face. The lake shimmered in the sunlight, and the rocks on the shore were scorching hot. Dragonflies perched on them, their wings flashing with iridescent colors in the sunlight.

Everything seemed normal. He withdrew his hand and picked up the short stick.

The small blue circle at the top is less than a third of its original size remaining. The blue line draws a thin arc on the white background, like a crescent moon about to disappear.

There's still some time left; if we save it until tonight, it should be enough.

Lu Changsheng tucked the short stick into his waistband and covered it with his coat. Then he pushed open the door, went out, went down the stairs, passed through one floor, and exited the castle through a side door.

When we arrived at the lake, the lake was empty and there was nothing there. It seemed that we would have to wait until night to see these wronged spirits.

Lu Changsheng turned around and walked back.

As he passed through the East Garden, he subconsciously glanced at the slaves working there. The woman who had been weeding there yesterday was nowhere to be seen.

Lu Changsheng didn't remember her name, but he remembered her physical features, because on her first day, she stood next to him, wearing cloth shoes with her toes exposed, her toes covered in chilblains. She never looked up or spoke while working, just kept pulling weeds, like a wound-up machine.

She wasn't there today; a man had taken her place. He was very young, probably in his early twenties, wearing a faded gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing two thin, withered arms.

Lu Changsheng did not stop walking and continued to walk forward, his gaze sweeping over the lowered faces.

He was counting. How many slaves were in the East Garden when he first arrived?

He hadn't counted them. But he remembered there were probably thirty or forty people crammed into the small garden, bent over, like a flock of sheep being herded together.

What now?

His gaze swept across the garden, landing on each of the slaves—

There were twelve people in total.

Lu Changsheng had no idea why these people had disappeared. He pondered for a moment, then calmly withdrew his gaze and returned to his room, quietly waiting for the night to fall.

As evening approached, Lu Changsheng noticed that it was getting late. He picked up the short stick, pressed the button, and let the blue light of the stick envelop him for a moment before tucking it into his waistband.

Then he pushed open the door and strode out.

Passing by An Zhiyu's room, I saw that her door was closed and the room was very quiet.

The corridor was quiet. He quickly went down the stairs, passed through the first floor, and walked out of the castle through a side door.

The night wind rushed towards me, carrying the fishy smell of the lake, the damp scent of the earth, and an even stronger stench of blood than yesterday.

In the East Garden, the slaves continued to work diligently.

Some people were moving stones, some were pulling weeds, and some were leveling the road. Just like yesterday, just like the day before yesterday, just like when they first came—heads down, backs bent, not saying a word, just working non-stop.

The old man squatted by the roadside pulling weeds. He moved slowly, but he pulled each weed out cleanly, leaving no soil behind.

As Lu Changsheng walked past him, the old man drew a character in the soil with his finger—

"night".

Lu Changsheng was startled. Even under the blue light, the old man could still see him. Lu Changsheng narrowed his eyes, and without causing any further trouble, he quickly rushed towards the lake.

They didn't stop until they reached the lakeside, but Lu Changsheng was stunned because he saw that the once terrifying lake surface was completely normal, and even the tentacles and vengeful spirits that had surrounded the lakeside had disappeared.

Lu Changsheng frowned; this was not a good omen.

Could it be because Xiao Qingniao disappeared?

Lu Changsheng squatted down and put his hand into the lake water.

The water was cold. Lu Changsheng hesitated for a moment, then walked into the lake and let the water completely engulf him.

We reached underwater.

Lu Changsheng then saw a figure dressed in black, with hair tied back tightly. A sword was slung over the back of the body, its hilt protruding from above the right shoulder, swaying slightly in the water.

Anzhiyu.

She floated in the water, as if waiting for someone in her own living room. A beam of light enveloped her entire body, shrouding her completely and isolating her from the water.

Anzhiyu.

She floated in the water, as if waiting for someone in her own living room. A beam of light enveloped her entire body, shrouding her completely and isolating her from the water.

Her eyes were fixed on Lu Changsheng's direction; she was waiting for him. Then she handed Lu Changsheng a bead, and he nodded to her before putting it on. The icy seawater was instantly shut off.

Lu Changsheng swam to her side and stopped.

The two people stood facing each other at the bottom of the lake, less than a meter apart. The blue light illuminated the water between them, making it crystal clear, and the tiny particles suspended in the water were visible.

"When did you come down?" Lu Changsheng asked.

The sound became strange underwater, muffled and indistinct, as if speaking through a thick layer of glass.

"When you leave," An Zhiyu said.

Lu Changsheng was stunned. He had come out later than him, so why had he arrived earlier?

"I climbed through the window."

Anzhiyu's explanation is concise and to the point.

Lu Changsheng nodded, and without further ado, whispered:

"Walk."

The two swam one after the other towards the bottom of the lake.

An Zhiyu was in front, and Lu Changsheng followed behind.

Both of them keenly noticed the changes in the lakebed's topography.

White, densely packed bones, stretching as far as the eye can see, covered the entire lakebed, extending from the shore to the center of the lake, and from the center to the opposite shore. There were no gaps, no empty spaces; not a single spot was not covered by bones.

Lu Changsheng felt as if he was not swimming towards the bottom of a lake, but towards a huge graveyard made up of the remains of countless dead people.

Then he saw the coffin, a huge, translucent, glass-like coffin, lying quietly in the very center of the lakebed. Bones were piled around the coffin, growing higher and higher, almost burying it.

The silvery-white liquid was still in the coffin, but the coffin itself was empty. Xiao Qingniao had disappeared, but he noticed something.

There was something on the inside of the coffin.

It wasn't the blurry, limescale-like marks that I'd seen through the silvery-white liquid before, but clear, deep lines, each one as if carved with a knife.

They are all runes.

Dense array of runes.

From the bottom to the top of the coffin, from the left wall to the right wall, from the front to the back, every corner, every ridge, and every inch of the transparent wall is carved, leaving not a single blank space.

Lu Changsheng swam to the coffin and brought his face closer.

The blue light illuminated the runes, and he recognized some of them.

"Sealing runes?"

An Zhiyu turned her gaze over and asked.

Lu Changsheng shook his head:

"It's not a sealing rune."

"The structure of sealing runes is inward, locking power inside and preventing it from escaping. Its characteristic is 'closure,' with lines connecting end to end to form a complete loop without an exit." Lu Changsheng paused, his tone somewhat grave. "These runes are clearly not like that."

The structure of these runes is outward—the lines start from the bottom of the coffin, spread upwards, and extend in all directions, like an upside-down tree with roots at the bottom of the coffin and branches reaching into every corner of the coffin.

"This is a manipulation rune."

Lu Changsheng thought for a moment and then said.

Someone is using these runes to control what's inside the coffin.

Do not--

It's not about controlling the coffin.

It's about controlling the person inside the coffin.

Lu Changsheng felt a chill creep up from the soles of his feet, not the cold of lake water, but a chill that seeped into his bones, as if someone had opened a door to an ice cellar inside him. He recalled a sentence from Xiao Qingniao's notes—"My body is hardening."

It wasn't an illness, nor a curse; these runes were transforming her. Starting from her bones, they spread outwards. First her joints, then her muscles, then her skin. They were turning her from a person into a vessel.

Anzhiyu swam to his side.

Her gaze swept over the runes on the inner wall of the coffin, her pupils contracting slightly. She had never seen so many, so dense, so intricate runes. Each stroke looked as if it had been carved with a single hair, each line as precise as if it had been sculpted by a machine.

This is not a task that one person can complete.

This level of precision can only be achieved after many people, over a long period of time, and through numerous revisions.

Xiao Yuheng is not doing this alone.

He has helpers.

Lu Changsheng took a deep breath, the icy water filling his mouth and making him cough. He steadied himself, swam to the side of the coffin, and placed his hands on the coffin wall. The transparent wall was thick and cold, like a giant block of ice. The surface was so smooth that there was almost no friction; his palms would slip when he pressed them, and he needed a lot of strength to keep his balance.

An Zhiyu swam to the other side of the coffin. She glanced at Lu Changsheng, who nodded. The two of them exerted force simultaneously, and the coffin swayed slightly before slowly tilting.

Bones slid off the top of the coffin, crashing to the bottom of the lake with a clatter, raising a cloud of white bone fragments. The coffin tilted further and further until, with the combined efforts of two people, it was finally overturned completely.

She crouched at the bottom of the coffin, kneeling on one knee amidst the pile of bones, leaning forward until her face was almost pressed against the transparent wall at the bottom of the coffin. Blue light shone on her face, illuminating her calm, emotionless eyes.

Lu Changsheng swam to her side and followed her gaze.

Amidst the dense array of runes, there was a blank space. It wasn't large, about the size of a palm, like a blank area deliberately left on a piece of paper already covered in writing. Words were inscribed in that blank space.

Lu Changsheng moved his face closer. The blue light illuminated the strokes. He could see them clearly.

"My brother Yuheng, with my body, fed countless wronged souls. Though I am dead, my spirit will not perish."

Lu Changsheng's fingers froze.

The blue light shone on those words, illuminating every stroke, every punctuation mark, and every hint of despair that permeated the lines.

Lu Changsheng raised his head and looked at the bottom of the lake outside the coffin. Blue light illuminated an area of ​​several meters around it. Bones. White, densely packed, endless bones.

Those bones weren't naturally deposited. They were thrown in. One by one, day after day, year after year. Every person Xiao Yuheng killed was thrown into this lake. Their resentment was absorbed by the runes on the coffins, poured into Xiao Qingniao's body, and used to control her, transform her, turn her into—

Lu Changsheng dared not think any further.

He felt An Zhiyu's hand on his shoulder. The pressure was neither too light nor too heavy, but it carried a clear meaning, as if trying to pull him back from some state. He turned his head. An Zhiyu looked at him, the blue light shining on her face, illuminating her calm eyes.

"Let's go," she said.

Lu Changsheng nodded, glanced back at the coffin, and then swam upstream without looking back.

This trip to the bottom of the lake has confirmed two things: first, Xiao Qingniao is indeed missing; second, the Xiao Qingniao at the banquet was not the real Xiao Qingniao, but a person possessed by a vengeful spirit, controlled by Xiao Yuheng, and possessing only a 99% physical body.

The two people went upstream.

An Zhiyu led the way, with Lu Changsheng following behind. The lake water surged in from all directions, pressing down on them, but the water-repelling beads created a small, dry space around them, enough for them to breathe, enough for them to speak, enough for them to see each other's faces in the darkness.

Lu Changsheng watched An Zhiyu's retreating figure.

Her movements were fluid, each stroke clean and crisp, without any unnecessary energy expenditure. Her sword was slung behind her back, the hilt protruding from above her right shoulder, swaying slightly in the water.

"Anzhiyu, how much longer do you have with your short stick?"

Lu Changsheng asked, his short stick only had the blue light of the Spirit Star, which was not enough for him to get back to his room.

An Zhiyu didn't speak. She paused in her forward swimming and then took out a short stick from her hand.

Lu Changsheng looked at the short stick, which was no different from his own, but the blue circle at the tip of the short stick in An Zhiyu's hand was almost full.

The blue lines are drawn from the starting point to the end, almost meeting at the very last second. Like a full moon, it is missing only a thin, almost invisible gap.

Lu Changsheng's pupils contracted slightly.

"Where did you come from?"

An Zhiyu did not answer immediately. She untied the short stick from the rope, held it in her palm, and pressed her thumb on the button at the top.

"Mrs. Song," she said.

Lu Changsheng was stunned for a moment.

Madam Song.

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