The moment the ashes scattered, Lin Mu's right hand returned to normal.
He examined it over and over—it was just an ordinary hand. A bit of dirt from the day's labor still under the nails, calluses on the fingertips, skin roughened by mountain wind. By all appearances, a handyman's hand.
But that sharp sting—he had definitely felt it.
"Trash can," Lin Mu whispered. "Did you see that?"
"I saw it." The trash can crouched on his shoulder, its two little eyes wide as saucers. "That heart—it shattered."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"Then what?"
Lin Mu raised his right hand and waved it in front of the trash can. "This."
The trash can was silent for two seconds.
"Host, what's on your right hand?"
"You didn't see it?"
"See what?"
Lin Mu stared into its eyes. Those mung-bean-sized little eyes were full of confusion—not faked.
"When that heart released its poison, my right hand suddenly hurt, and then all those negative emotions got sucked away," Lin Mu said. "You really didn't see anything unusual?"
The trash can's lid lifted slightly, as if in thought.
"Host, I really didn't see anything. But..." It paused. "I did sense something."
"Sensed what?"
"Something very faint. So faint it was almost imperceptible." The trash can's voice grew soft. "But that aura felt... a bit like..."
"Like what?"
"Like my own kind."
Lin Mu was stunned.
Its own kind?
The trash can was a system, a cheat code bound to him. If its own kind appeared—
"You mean, there's another system on my right hand?"
"Not necessarily." The trash can shook its head. "Could be some kind of seal. Or the power of a bloodline. I just felt that the source of that aura—it shares the same roots as me."
Lin Mu looked down, staring at his right hand.
This hand had been with him for eighteen years. Nothing special about it, ever. After transmigrating, he'd noticed nothing unusual.
But what just happened—it had definitely happened.
He tried injecting a thread of spiritual energy into his right hand.
No response.
Then he tried pinching each finger with his left hand, from thumb to pinky, inch by inch.
When he reached the ring finger—
Sting.
That needle-prick pain again.
Lin Mu stopped, staring at his right ring finger. Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on his finger. He squinted, examining closely, and finally noticed something off.
At the second joint of his ring finger, there was a ring of extremely fine lines.
They were so faint they were nearly invisible. If the sting hadn't focused his attention, he never would have noticed them in daylight.
The lines were dark gold, circling his finger like part of some totem. But too faint to make out any specific pattern.
"Trash can, come look at this."
The trash can scurried over, its lid opened as wide as possible, its two little eyes almost pressing against his finger.
After a long look, the trash can retreated, its expression turning somewhat strange.
"Host, on your finger..."
"What?"
"There's a character."
"A character?" Lin Mu was startled. "What character?"
The trash can was silent for a moment, as if deciphering.
"It's an ancient character. Very old." It said. "I can't fully recognize it, but I can guess—the meaning is 'Bury'."
Bury?
Lin Mu's heart skipped a beat.
Who would carve the word "Bury" on their own finger?
"Anything else?"
"Can't see clearly. The lines are too faint." The trash can shook its head. "Might need to wait until it brightens again. Or until your cultivation advances—then you might see clearly."
Lin Mu stared at that ring of lines for a long time, then finally lowered his hand.
No use dwelling on this now. The priority was Zhou Yuan.
That grayish-blue heart had shattered, but the poison mist it released had already entered his body. If not for his right hand suddenly activating, he might be on the ground right now.
Zhou Yuan's methods were more insidious than he'd imagined.
"Trash can."
"Yeah?"
"That poison mist the heart released—what was it?"
"Emotional toxin." The trash can said. "Condensed from hatred accumulated over a long time. It specifically erodes the mind and spirit. Those afflicted are slowly consumed by negative emotions, eventually either going mad or killing themselves. And no physical traces remain—everyone just assumes it was heart demons invading."
Lin Mu was silent for a moment.
"So Zhou Yuan doesn't just want to poison me to death. He wants it to look like I died from cultivation deviation?"
"Pretty much." The trash can nodded. "This person's schemes run deep."
Lin Mu lay back on the bed, staring at the beam above.
Outside the window, the moon had emerged again, casting silver light across the floor.
"Trash can."
"Yeah?"
"You said Zhou Yuan hates someone. Is that someone me?"
The trash can was silent for a moment.
"That heart tilted toward you. It was sensing you. But those cracks, that spoiled aura—they didn't form in a short time." It said. "Zhou Yuan's hatred for you—it didn't start today."
Lin Mu closed his eyes.
The original owner's memories scrolled through his mind. Three years. For three years, Zhou Yuan had been kind to him—bringing food, bringing pills, helping with missions. The original owner considered him his best friend. Never doubted him.
But now, thinking back—how much of that "kindness" was real?
The original owner's dantian—shattered for no reason. The original owner's body—growing weaker and weaker. The pills the original owner took before he died—all given by Zhou Yuan.
If Zhou Yuan had been laying the groundwork from the very beginning—
Lin Mu opened his eyes.
"Tomorrow, I'm going somewhere."
"Where?"
"The Alchemy Hall."
Early the next morning, Lin Mu got up.
He tidied himself, changed into relatively clean clothes, tucked the porcelain bottle Zhou Yuan had given him into his robe, and headed out.
The Alchemy Hall sat between the outer and inner sects, occupying a sizable area. Every day, disciples came to buy pills, submit tasks, or request alchemists to refine things for them.
Lin Mu had never been here before.
Neither had the original owner. Too poor to afford pills.
He stood at the entrance, watching disciples stream in and out, feeling a bit lost.
"Host, how are you planning to investigate?" the trash can whispered from inside his robe.
"Ask directly."
"Huh?"
Lin Mu walked in.
Inside, the Alchemy Hall was larger than it appeared from outside, divided into several sections. On the left, counters selling finished pills. On the right, a reception area where one could discuss custom requests with alchemists. At the back, a row of rooms with "Alchemy Chamber" signs on their doors, faint medicinal scents seeping through.
Lin Mu approached the counter.
Behind it stood a middle-aged disciple in the Alchemy Hall's distinctive blue robes, a small furnace embroidered on his chest. He was organizing account books and didn't look up at the sound of footsteps.
"What do you need?"
"Senior Brother, I'd like to ask about something."
The middle-aged disciple raised his head and glanced at Lin Mu.
That glance swept from top to bottom, eyes clearly assessing—the quality of his clothes, the calluses on his hands, his posture. After this assessment, his gaze cooled somewhat.
"Outer sect?"
"Yes."
"What do you want to ask?"
Lin Mu pulled the porcelain bottle from his robe and placed it on the counter.
"I'd like to know which alchemist refined these pills."
The middle-aged disciple picked up the bottle, examined the patterns on its surface, then uncorked it and sniffed.
"These pills..." He frowned. "Where did you get them?"
"A senior brother gave them to me."
"The one who gave you these pills—are they your enemy?"
Lin Mu's heart stirred, but he arranged just the right amount of surprise on his face. "Senior Brother, what makes you say that?"
The middle-aged disciple set the bottle back on the counter, his expression turning somewhat subtle.
"The ingredients are legitimate enough, but there's a problem with the refining technique." He said. "The fire wasn't controlled properly during refining, producing some impurities. Taking them won't do much for your Qi, and over time, they'll gradually damage your meridians. Once or twice, no problem. Long-term, your body will collapse."
Lin Mu was silent for two seconds.
"Can you tell who refined them, Senior Brother?"
The middle-aged disciple shook his head. "The technique is too rough. No distinct style. But..." He picked up the bottle again, examining it. "The patterns on this bottle—I think I've seen it somewhere before."
"Where?"
The middle-aged disciple thought for a moment, then suddenly slapped his forehead.
"Right. Last month, an outer disciple came to buy materials for pill refining. He bought the same type of bottles as this batch." He pulled out an account book and flipped through several pages. "Look, it's this person—Zhou Yuan, outer disciple. Purchased ten jade bottles, three portions of Qi-Gathering Grass, five Pure Spirit Fruits..."
Lin Mu's gaze fixed on the account book.
Zhou Yuan's name was written there, clear as day.
"Thank you, Senior Brother." He pocketed the bottle and turned to leave.
At the entrance, he suddenly stopped.
Because he saw someone.
Zhou Yuan was walking in from outside, a warm smile on his face. He carried a cloth bundle in his hand. Seeing Lin Mu, he registered just the right amount of surprise.
"Junior Brother Lin? What a coincidence—you're at the Alchemy Hall too?"
Lin Mu looked at him.
Looked above his head.
Above Zhou Yuan's head, two hearts now floated.
One was the grayish-blue from yesterday, surface covered in cracks, beating slowly.
The other—
Was black.
Pure black, like condensed ink, its surface smooth as a mirror. It beat very slowly, and with each beat, the light around him seemed to distort. wait—the light around it seemed to warp, as if being sucked into it.
Lin Mu stared at that black heart. A chill ran down his spine.
"Junior Brother Lin?" Zhou Yuan stepped closer. "What's wrong? You don't look well."
Lin Mu snapped back to reality and forced a smile.
"Nothing. Maybe I didn't sleep well last night."
Zhou Yuan nodded, his gaze falling on Lin Mu's hand.
"You brought those pills?"
Lin Mu looked down—he was still clutching that porcelain bottle.
"Senior Brother Zhou has sharp eyes." He pocketed the bottle. "Perfect timing. I was actually hoping to ask you—what are these pills for?"
Zhou Yuan smiled.
"Qi supplements. I specially refined them for you. What, haven't taken them yet?"
"Haven't had the chance."
"Perfect then." Zhou Yuan pulled a small box from his cloth bundle. "I refined another batch today. Better than last time. Don't take those old ones—take these new ones instead."
He extended the box toward Lin Mu.
Lin Mu looked down at the box.
An ordinary wooden box, palm-sized, no markings on its surface.
But his gaze didn't rest on the box.
It rested on that black heart above Zhou Yuan's head.
That heart beat once.
In that instant, a flash of an image crossed Lin Mu's vision—
A youth lay on the ground. Blood seeped from his seven orifices. His eyes were wide open. The youth's face—was identical to Lin Mu's own.
The image came and went in a flash.
Lin Mu's hand trembled slightly.
"Junior Brother Lin?" Zhou Yuan asked with concern. "Are you unwell? Shall I escort you back?"
Lin Mu raised his head, looking at Zhou Yuan's warm face, at those eyes full of concern.
Then he smiled.
"No need. I can manage on my own." He accepted the box. "Thank you, Senior Brother Zhou."
He turned and walked out.
Out of the Alchemy Hall, through the corridors, to a deserted place.
He stopped, looking down at the box in his hand.
"Trash can."
"Here."
"When that black heart beat just now—did you see anything?"
The trash can was silent for a moment.
"Host, I didn't see anything. But..." Its voice tightened slightly. "I did sense something."
"Sensed what?"
"That black heart contains the resentment of the original owner."
Lin Mu's fingers tightened slightly.
The original owner's resentment.
The youth who exhausted himself to death at the cafeteria entrance.
The youth who thought Zhou Yuan was his best friend.
The youth who was poisoned bit by bit, never knowing the truth until the very end.
Lin Mu pocketed the box and looked up at the distant sky.
The sky was blue. The clouds were white.
Wind blew from the mountains, carrying the scent of grass and trees.
"Trash can."
"Yeah?"
"Keep an eye on Zhou Yuan for me."
"Keep an eye on him for what?"
The corner of Lin Mu's mouth lifted slightly.
"Keep an eye on when he reveals that black heart again."
He raised his right hand toward the sun.
On his ring finger, those dark gold lines seemed slightly clearer than yesterday.
The character "Bury."
He wanted to know what lay hidden behind it.