Starfall Nine Heavens

The warehouse was quiet.

Lin Fan was sorting through a batch of goods that had been delivered that morning. The items were acquired from an old collector, who said they were folk artifacts from the late Qing Dynasty and early Republic of China: copper locks, snuff bottles, old account books, faded New Year pictures, and an octagonal copper mirror the size of a palm.

The wooden crate had been dismantled and stuffed with shock-absorbing straw. Lin Fan put on cotton gloves and took out the items one by one, arranging them on the long table. A snuff bottle with a chipped corner, a rusted copper lock, a moon lute with a broken string, several account books damaged by insects... all were worthless old items. But Shi Yue had said that there might be a "treasure" hidden among these old things.

While tidying up the bottom of the box, Lin Fan touched something carefully wrapped in oilcloth.

He unwrapped the layers of packaging, revealing a bronze mirror. The mirror was about eight inches in size, cast in bronze, with cloud and thunder patterns engraved on the edges and auspicious beast designs in relief on the back. The mirror surface was hazy, as if covered with a layer of mist, and had not been cleaned for many years; it could only barely reflect a person's image.

It looks like an ordinary old mirror, and its condition isn't even that good.

Lin Fan placed it on the long table and turned to get the register.

I had only taken two steps when a strange sound came from behind me—like metal vibrating at a low frequency, buzzing, which made my teeth ache.

He turned around abruptly.

A layer of grayish-black mist was rising from the surface of the bronze mirror on the long table. The mist seemed to come alive, slowly flowing across the mirror and forming a vortex in the center.

Deep within the vortex, something seemed to be watching him.

It wasn't his imagination. Lin Fan could feel a pair of cold eyes staring intently at him. The temperature in the shop seemed to drop suddenly; even the afternoon sun couldn't dispel the chill.

"Blood...fresh..."

A voice rang out directly in his mind. It wasn't something he heard with his ears; it drilled straight into the depths of his consciousness. Lin Fan's hair stood on end. The voice was filled with malice and hunger, like a wild dog that had been starving for a long time smelling meat.

Immediately afterward, a chilling current of air crept up his arm, raising goosebumps wherever it passed. Even more terrifying, along with this cold air, a jumble of chaotic images and emotions were forcibly crammed into his mind—

In the dark alley, a woman's terrified face, sharp claws tearing through flesh, blood spurting out...

Desperate cries, the sound of bones being crushed, the final convulsions as internal organs are ripped out...

The thrill of killing, the satisfaction of devouring life, the hatred for all living things...

"roll!"

Lin Fan gritted his teeth and growled, the veins on his forehead bulging. The images were too real, as if he had experienced them himself. That violent desire was desperately trying to penetrate his consciousness, trying to make him agree, trying to make him succumb.

Just when he was about to give up—

The jade pendant on his chest suddenly became hot.

This time, the heat wasn't the previous lukewarm kind; it was scalding, as if something inside was burning. Immediately afterward, a cool current surged from the jade pendant, like the first rays of dawn, spreading from the chest throughout the body. The chilling force that had invaded the consciousness was instantly dispelled, like snow meeting boiling water.

The bloody images in my mind shattered.

Lin Fan shuddered, finally regaining control of his body. He staggered backward, knocking over the chair behind him, panting heavily, his back soaked with cold sweat.

The grayish-black aura seeping from the mirror was still churning, as if it hadn't expected to fail. Enraged, the mirror suddenly shone with a ghastly white light, and a solid, arrow-like beam of gray energy shot towards Lin Fan's brow!

Lin Fan tried to dodge, but his body was still stiff and he couldn't move at all.

"Certainly."

A voice rang out in the store. Gentle, yet carrying an undeniable power.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment.

The gray arrow of mist was gently caught by a hand less than three inches from Lin Fan's brow. The fingers were long and clean, like those of a scholar; with just a gentle twist, the gray mist dissipated.

The bronze mirror fell to the ground with a clatter. The gray mist on the mirror surface dissipated, and it completely returned to the appearance of an ordinary ancient mirror, except for a few small cracks.

Lin Fan stumbled back two steps, panting heavily, and steadied himself by grabbing the worktable. His heart pounded in his chest, and his back was covered in cold sweat. He looked up at the person who had approached.

He was a man around fifty years old, dressed in a dark gray Zhongshan suit, with an upright posture. His face was refined, his eyebrows and eyes gentle, and a comfortable smile played on his lips. But his eyes—calm, deep, seemed to see through people's hearts, as if they held the entire starry sky.

The man made a grasping motion with his left hand toward the mirror on the ground.

The ancient mirror flew up with a sound and landed steadily in his hand. Then, a faint blue light emanated from the tip of his right finger and he gently touched the mirror's surface. The blue light seeped into the bronze mirror like water, causing it to tremble slightly and emit a low hum before falling completely silent. Even the cracks seemed to darken slightly, as if sealed by some force.

The whole process took only two or three seconds, and it was incredibly smooth.

Lin Fan was stunned. This wasn't movie special effects; it was real power happening right before his eyes. Su Wan's sword, the shadowy figure from that night, were nothing compared to the shock of what he was seeing—that effortless composure, as if he were just casually brushing dust off a table.

"...Mr. Lu?" Lin Fan asked tentatively.

He recalled Han Feng's rambling words: "The real boss of our Chenyuan Pavilion is surnamed Lu, Lu Xiuyuan. He's a true master, elusive and rarely seen..."

The middle-aged man turned to look at him, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes: "Oh? You recognize me?"

"I've heard Han Feng mention it," Lin Fan answered honestly, his heart still pounding.

"That kid." Lu Xiuyuan smiled, placed the bronze mirror on the long table, and looked Lin Fan up and down. "But you are the one who surprised me a bit."

He walked up to Lin Fan, his gentle gaze filled with inquiry: "What was in that mirror just now was a low-level demonic thought born from residual demonic energy. Although it's not particularly powerful, even an ordinary cultivator at the Spirit Gathering Realm would be momentarily shaken if caught off guard. But you—"

Lu Xiuyuan paused, his admiration deepening: "You, an ordinary person who hasn't even started cultivating, were able to remain conscious and resist under that kind of mental erosion. That willpower is not easy to come by."

Lin Fan's throat went dry, and his hand instinctively pressed against his chest. The warmth of the jade pendant was slowly fading, but the feeling of that cool current protecting his mind was still clearly imprinted in his mind. He knew that he was able to hold on only because of the jade pendant, but he couldn't say that.

"I just feel... I can't faint." Lin Fan offered a barely plausible reason, "If I faint, I might not wake up again."

That's the truth. In that darkness and amidst the endless stream of images, he had only one thought: hold on, don't fall.

Lu Xiuyuan nodded: "The will to survive is also a kind of will. That's right."

He stopped asking questions and instead looked at the bronze mirror on the long table: "This mirror must have been a burial object from some ancient battlefield or tomb. The place where it was buried was filled with yin energy and death energy, and it was also permeated with demonic energy. Over time, it developed some evil thoughts. It's not a proper demonic object, but rather a vessel possessed by demonic energy."

Looking at the seemingly ordinary bronze mirror, Lin Fan found it hard to believe that it had almost cost him his life.

"Mr. Lu," Lin Fan hesitated for a moment before asking, "what did you mean by 'Spirit Gathering Realm' and 'cultivator'? Also, what exactly is a demon? And what about that thing you just did..." He gestured with Lu Xiuyuan's hand, which was making a grabbing motion in the air with glowing fingertips, "What was that?"

Too many questions weighed on his mind. From that rainy night a month ago to today's terrifying experience in the mirror, the world had torn open before his eyes, revealing a bizarre and grotesque world beneath. He needed answers.

Lu Xiuyuan glanced at him. His gaze was deep, as if he were weighing something.