Ren Xiaosu fell asleep. After spending so long lying motionless in the wilderness just to catch a single sparrow, he was exhausted. Anyone who understood such things knew—that kind of stillness, while remaining constantly alert, consumed the most energy.
Before sleeping, he reminded Yan Liuyuan again:"If you see those people, stay far away from them. There's no way they don't know Mount Jing is dangerous. Normal people always avoid it, yet they insist on going through it. My gut tells me this isn't simple."
"Mm," Yan Liuyuan nodded obediently. "I know."
In truth, Ren Xiaosu and Yan Liuyuan were a strange pair. A few years ago, they hadn't even known each other. But Ren Xiaosu decided to protect the young Yan Liuyuan—partly because he accidentally discovered Yan Liuyuan's secret, and partly because Ren Xiaosu's headaches had troubled him for so long that he needed someone to keep watch at night.
Back then, Ren Xiaosu told him plainly: they were using each other.Yet after all these years, it was impossible to tell what was affection and what was convenience anymore.
Yan Liuyuan was always sharp and cunning outside, but only in front of Ren Xiaosu did he become an obedient, well-behaved child.
Sometimes Yan Liuyuan would say that his life was something Ren Xiaosu exchanged with his own life, but Ren Xiaosu never acknowledged that.
Now Ren Xiaosu wanted to understand the strange change that had happened inside his mind. Tonight, he deliberately stayed awake for a long time, wanting to see whether the "illness" that had hounded him for years would return. In the end, that familiar chaos did not appear.
It was as if that palace had always been hidden within the fog in his mind, and now the black mist had finally cleared away.
Ren Xiaosu needed to see what exactly was inside that palace.
Yan Liuyuan glanced at the sleeping Ren Xiaosu, then quietly picked up the bone knife and sat by the shack's entrance. The shack had only a thick curtain for a door. Now that it was autumn, the cold seeped in.
At that moment, the rain stopped.
Footsteps sounded outside the curtain. Boots stepping on post-rain mud made a sticky, slippery sound.
The curtain was lifted slightly. But before the visitor could pull it fully aside, Yan Liuyuan's bone knife was already pressed against the person's neck.
It was a pretty face—a beautiful woman stood outside.
Yan Liuyuan frowned. She wasn't a stranger; she lived nearby.
The woman smiled. "Liuyuan, still awake? Where's Xiaosu? I heard he got back."
"Sister Xiaoyu, he's already asleep," Yan Liuyuan said with a polite smile. "If you have something to say, you can tell me."
Xiaoyu's expression grew a bit awkward. "He didn't get hurt this time, did he?"
"His palm got pecked by a sparrow. But Sister Xiaoyu, you don't need to care that much about my brother. You're eight years older than he is."
Whenever Ren Xiaosu was asleep, Yan Liuyuan became unexpectedly mature for his age. Whether he faced strangers or acquaintances, no matter what they said, the bone knife in his hand never left Xiaoyu's throat.
Xiaoyu took out a cigarette and a lighter from her bag. It was a rolled cigarette—the kind only workers in coal mines or power plants under the refuge fortress could get.
Many laborers worked not just for food and pay but also for that one cigarette a day. After work, crowds could be seen smoking together each evening. Ren Xiaosu had once told Yan Liuyuan that those cigarettes likely contained far more addictive substances than tobacco.
And the cigarette Xiaoyu was smoking now clearly wasn't something she earned through labor.
After taking a couple of puffs, Xiaoyu seemed lost in thought. "You're a sharp kid. I just think of you two as my little brothers."
"Oh." Yan Liuyuan suddenly asked, "Are you sick?"
Xiaoyu blinked. "Yeah… is my voice a little hoarse?"
"No," Yan Liuyuan shook his head and smiled. "I asked because when you were smoking… one of your nostrils didn't let out smoke."
Xiaoyu: "…"
For some reason, Xiaoyu always felt Yan Liuyuan disliked her.
"I'll head back, then," Xiaoyu said. "When your brother wakes up, tell him I came by."
"Mm," Yan Liuyuan replied with a bright smile. "I'll tell him."
After Xiaoyu left, Ren Xiaosu's voice suddenly came from behind Yan Liuyuan:"Don't bully Sister Xiaoyu all the time. She has a hard life."
"Brother, she's not clean," Yan Liuyuan said. "And she only gets close to you because you bring home prey."
"Who's clean?" Ren Xiaosu said calmly. "Anyone who wants to survive in this world can't stay clean. Everyone is forced by life. Keep your distance if you must, but don't mock her."
In this market town, a woman who lived alone and managed to stay "clean" simply wouldn't survive.
Ren Xiaosu thought for a moment. "Besides, she never said she liked me. And you're sure she approached me because of the prey I bring back? Not because of my good looks?"
"Brother, no one here has washed their face in months… everyone looks the same," Yan Liuyuan said, speechless. "And weren't you asleep? How are you still awake?"
"Thinking about something," Ren Xiaosu replied briefly.
He wasn't actually asleep—he was exploring the palace in his mind.
Inside that circular palace, the walls were lined with old wooden cabinets, like a massive exhibition hall. But the display shelves were shrouded in black fog, concealing whatever floated within.
At the center of the hall was a single table, and on it sat an old brass typewriter—obsolete even before the Cataclysm. The kind that clacked loudly with each keypress.
This typewriter had only twenty-four copper keys, each engraved with a single character: Justice, Integrity, Honesty, Kindness, Prosperity, Strength…
Very positive values, to say the least.
But the typewriter seemed filled with endless sheets of parchment. And without anyone touching the keys, they moved on their own. On the emerging paper were the same two lines he'd seen that afternoon:
"Task: Give your prey to someone else.Task completed. Reward: Basic Skill Learning Blueprint — Ability to learn others' skills."
He had no way to tell whether this was an illusion or something else entirely. Legends spoke of people capable of constructing "memory palaces," entire imaginary universes shaped by their mental power.
But this palace… didn't seem to match those descriptions.
And why ask him to give his prey away? Was this typewriter trying to turn him into a good person?
A good person—in a world where even speaking of morality was a luxury?
Not a chance.
His consciousness stood in the center of the vast palace, inspecting the display cases around him. Something floated within each cabinet, but the swirling darkness obscured everything, keeping him from seeing what lay inside.
The cabinets extended all the way to the domed ceiling, like a colossal museum. Ren Xiaosu approached one cabinet and reached toward the object in the fog, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't penetrate the resisting force of the darkness.
It was a power he could not touch—not yet.
Whether the palace truly existed would have to be proven through action.