Lin Mu didn't go back to his room.
With the box Zhou Yuan had given him, he circled around to the barren mountain behind the outer sect and found a secluded rock to sit on.
The sun had risen, warming him pleasantly. In the distance came the shouts of outer disciples practicing, occasionally mixed with the cries of spirit beasts. Everything seemed normal.
Lin Mu opened the box.
Inside lay three pills, larger than those in yesterday's bottle, richer in color, more rounded. They gave off a faint medicinal scent—they really did look like good quality stuff.
"Trash can, are these pills problematic?"
The trash can poked its head out of his robe, leaned in, and sniffed.
"No problem." It said. "These are genuine Qi-supplementing pills. Good ingredients, decent refining technique. Taking them would actually be beneficial."
Lin Mu was taken aback.
"Zhou Yuan gave me real pills?"
"Yeah." The trash can nodded. "And pretty good ones too. Top grade by outer sect standards."
Lin Mu picked up a pill, examining it against the sunlight.
He thought for a moment, then suddenly laughed.
"I get it."
"Get what?"
"Zhou Yuan is running an experiment." Lin Mu placed the pill back in the box. "Yesterday's pills were slow poison. Today's pills are genuine supplements. If I took yesterday's, my body would slowly collapse. If I suspect him and don't take yesterday's, then he gives me real ones today—I'll think, 'Maybe yesterday was a misunderstanding. He really does care about me.'"
The trash can blinked. "So?"
"So he doesn't actually care which pills I take." Lin Mu said. "What he cares about is how I see him."
He closed the box and tucked it into his robe.
"This guy doesn't just want to kill me. He wants me to die still thinking well of him."
The trash can was silent for a moment.
"Host... is this guy mentally unstable?"
"How many people in the cultivation world have stable minds?" Lin Mu stood up, dusting himself off. "Let's go. Heading back."
"Back for what?"
"To wait."
"Wait for what?"
Lin Mu didn't answer.
On his way back, he passed the outer sect's training grounds.
Dozens of outer disciples were practicing their morning routines—flashing blades, clashing weapons, shouts rising to the heavens. A crowd ringed the edges, some watching, some waiting for their turn to spar.
Lin Mu intended to circle around when something caught his peripheral vision.
Wang Tiezhu.
That outer disciple who'd been full of resentment toward him yesterday morning, whose emotions the trash can had sucked away—he was standing in the crowd now, staring wide-eyed at Lin Mu.
No.
Not at Lin Mu.
Behind him.
Lin Mu instinctively turned around.
Nothing there.
When he turned back, Wang Tiezhu had already pushed through the crowd and was walking toward him.
"Lin Yuan."
Wang Tiezhu stood before him, his expression strange. Not yesterday's disdain, not the blankness after having his emotions drained, but something else... a complicated expression, like he wanted to say something but couldn't.
"What's up?"
Wang Tiezhu opened his mouth, then closed it. He glanced around, lowered his voice, and said:
"Come with me."
Then he turned and walked off, not waiting to see if Lin Mu would follow.
Lin Mu hesitated for a moment, then followed.
They walked to a quiet spot beside the training grounds. Wang Tiezhu stopped, turned around, and stared at Lin Mu for several seconds.
"What did you do to me yesterday?"
Lin Mu's heart stirred, but his face remained impassive. "Do what?"
"Don't play dumb." Wang Tiezhu frowned. "Yesterday morning I was furious at you, wanted to beat the hell out of you. Then suddenly—poof—that anger was gone. Not faded. Gone. Like someone just sucked it out of me."
Lin Mu said nothing.
"At first I thought I'd just gotten over it." Wang Tiezhu continued. "But last night I kept thinking about it, and the more I thought, the weirder it seemed. Who am I? Petty, grudges for months over little things. How could I just stop being angry like that?"
He stepped closer.
"Lin Yuan, what the hell did you do to me?"
Lin Mu looked at him.
Above Wang Tiezhu's head, a faint yellow glow now floated—not heart-shaped, but a hazy halo, like emotions still forming.
The precursor to anger.
"What do you think I did?" Lin Mu countered.
"I don't know." Wang Tiezhu said. "But I know you did something. We've known each other three years. You think I don't know you? Before this, you couldn't even speak up when someone bullied you. How could you suddenly have tricks like this?"
Lin Mu was silent for two seconds.
"If I told you I did nothing, would you believe me?"
"No."
"Then if I told you I just helped you clear out some useless emotions, would you believe me?"
Wang Tiezhu froze.
He stared at Lin Mu, his gaze growing complicated.
"Clear... emotions?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
Lin Mu didn't answer. He reached into his robe and touched the trash can's lid.
The trash can shifted slightly, as if to say: Host, be careful.
Wang Tiezhu noticed the movement. His gaze dropped to Lin Mu's robe.
"What are you hiding in there?"
"A... thing." Lin Mu said. "It can absorb negative emotions."
Wang Tiezhu's eyes went wide.
"Absorb negative emotions? How? Where do they go? Are you messing with me?"
The more he talked, the more agitated he became. The yellow glow above his head grew denser, on the verge of taking shape.
Lin Mu sighed.
"Trash can."
A soft sigh came from his robe.
The next second, the trash can emerged, dropped to the ground, and rolled—gulu gulu—right to Wang Tiezhu's feet.
Wang Tiezhu looked down, saw the dusty little bucket, and froze.
"What the hell is that?"
The trash can's lid flipped open and took a sharp inhale toward him.
Wang Tiezhu's expression went blank.
Three seconds later, the trash can rolled back to Lin Mu's feet. Its lid snapped shut with a smack, and it let out a tiny burp.
Wang Tiezhu came to. He looked down at his hands, then up at Lin Mu.
"What just... happened?"
"Your anger got sucked away." Lin Mu said. "Now you have no problem with me."
Wang Tiezhu stood there dumbly for a moment.
Then his expression changed.
Not anger, not confusion, but—
Fear.
"What... what kind of person are you?"
Lin Mu looked into his eyes.
Those eyes now held nothing but terror. Above his head—nothing. Sucked too clean, not a trace left.
"Someone trying to stay alive." Lin Mu said.
He picked up the trash can, tucked it back into his robe, and turned to leave.
"Wait!"
Wang Tiezhu caught up and grabbed his sleeve.
Lin Mu turned back.
Wang Tiezhu opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something but couldn't get it out. His expression flickered several times before he finally blurted:
"Can you... can you check if I have other useless emotions?"
Lin Mu blinked.
"What?"
"I mean," Wang Tiezhu lowered his voice, "I'm tired every day. Irritated. Frustrated. Can't keep up with cultivation, get mocked by others, bullied by senior brothers, and I don't dare fight back. All these emotions pile up inside me, crushing me. That... that thing of yours—can it suck them all away?"
Lin Mu stared at him for several seconds.
Wang Tiezhu's eyes held longing, fear, and a hint of hope.
Above his head—nothing. Clean as a blank sheet of paper.
"You sure?"
"Sure."
Lin Mu was silent for a moment.
"Trash can."
"Here." A muffled voice came from his robe.
"What do you think?"
The trash can paused for two seconds, then said:
"Host, he really does have too many emotions. You sucked away his anger just now, but the anxiety, the low self-worth, the feel wronged—those are still there. If this keeps up, he'll definitely have problems."
Lin Mu thought for a moment, then released his arm.
"Fine. But not today."
"Why not?"
"Because I have things to do." Lin Mu said. "Tomorrow. Same time, same place. If you still want to, come find me then."
He turned and walked away.
This time, Wang Tiezhu didn't follow.
Back in his room, Lin Mu closed the door and set the trash can on the table.
"Host, why did you agree to help him?"
Lin Mu sat down, looking at the trash can.
"Because there's something I want to know."
"What?"
"If I sucked away all of Zhou Yuan's emotions, what would he become?"
The trash can was stunned.
"Host, you mean—"
"Zhou Yuan hates me." Lin Mu said. "But if I suck away all that hate, would he still hate me?"
He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Or rather—if the hate gets sucked away, is Zhou Yuan still Zhou Yuan?"
The trash can was silent for a long time.
"Host... this idea of yours is kind of dangerous."
"I know."
Lin Mu lay down on the bed, closing his eyes.
"But I want to try."
In the afternoon, Lin Mu went out again.
He went to a place—in the original owner's memory, it was called "Reflection Cliff."
Reflection Cliff sat at the farthest edge of the outer sect, near the back mountain cliffs, usually deserted. It was where disciples were sent for punishment—facing the wall, reflecting on their mistakes, exposed to wind and sun, utterly miserable.
But Lin Mu wasn't going there to reflect.
He was looking for something.
The original owner's memory held a vague image: three years ago, when he first arrived at Tianxuan Sect, he'd picked up a stone near Reflection Cliff. It was black, unremarkable, but it warmed up when held in his palm.
Later, that stone disappeared.
The original owner hadn't thought much of it—assumed he'd tossed it somewhere.
But now Lin Mu thought back and found it strange—because on the night the original owner's dantian shattered, the last thing he'd held in his hand was that stone.
Reflection Cliff was even more desolate than he'd imagined.
Lin Mu walked along the cliff's edge, looking down, searching for something. The wind was strong, whipping his robes noisily.
Half an hour of searching turned up nothing.
"Host, are you sure this is the place?"
"Not sure." Lin Mu said. "The original owner's memory is too fuzzy. Just remembers it being by the cliff, near a big rock."
"Then take your time. I'll keep watch."
Lin Mu continued forward.
At a turn in the cliff, he suddenly stopped.
Because someone was there.
An old man in gray robes sat on a rock by the cliff, his back to Lin Mu, fishing.
Below the cliff—nothing but a sheer drop into endless depths. The old man's fishing rod extended out, its line dangling in midair, swaying in the wind.
Lin Mu blinked.
Without turning around, the old man's voice reached him:
"Young man, what brings you to Reflection Cliff?"
Lin Mu paused for a second.
"Looking for someone."
"Who?"
"A stone."
The old man's back stiffened slightly.
Then he slowly turned around.
It was a very ordinary face—the kind you'd lose in a crowd. But those eyes—
When those eyes looked at Lin Mu, he felt like he was being seen through.
Inside and out, nothing left hidden.
"Stone?" The old man smiled. "What stone?"
Lin Mu didn't answer.
Because he saw it.
Above the old man's head—nothing.
Not sucked away. Simply... absent.
This person had no emotions at all.
"Young man," the old man set down his fishing rod and stood up, "is the stone you're looking for this one?"
He pulled something from his robe.
Black. Fist-sized. Surface smooth as a mirror.
Identical to the black heart above Zhou Yuan's head.
Lin Mu's pupils contracted sharply.
"You—"
"Me what?" The old man walked over and held out the black stone. "Take it. It was yours to begin with."
Lin Mu looked down at the stone.
In its surface, his face reflected.
But that face wasn't his.
It was the original owner's.
"Three years ago, you lost it." The old man said. "Three years later, it came back on its own."
Lin Mu looked up.
"Who are you, really?"
The old man smiled.
"Just a fisherman."
He pressed the stone into Lin Mu's hand, then turned and walked away.
After a few steps, he stopped and said without turning back:
"Oh, and that little trash can of yours? Interesting thing. Make sure it eats enough. Don't let it go hungry."
Then he simply vanished.
As if he'd never existed.
Lin Mu stood there, clutching the black stone, feeling warmth spreading through his palm.
On the stone's surface, something flowed.
He looked down—
The face reflected in the stone had changed.
From the original owner's face to his own.
Lin Mu froze.
The next second, the stone suddenly crumbled to powder, slipping through his fingers, carried away by the wind until nothing remained.
But where the powder had passed, lines remained.
On his right ring finger.
The character "Bury."
Clearer than ever.
Lin Mu stared at that character for a long time.
Then he looked up at where the old man had disappeared.
Nothing there.
Only the wind, and the endless drop into darkness.