[Vol. 1, Fragment VII: The Inner Palace ? Diaries of Activity and Repose (Incomplete)]

  "His Majesty consumed three 'Immortality Baits' today. His spirits were greatly lifted, his skin as smooth and pristine as porcelain, though... his joints appeared slightly stiff. The Imperial Physician stated: This is an omen of 'Jade-ification', but a single step away from shedding the mortal coil and ascending to immortality. (Directorate of Astronomy Annotation: Jade-ification my ass. He just ate too many preservatives and marinated himself.)

  — Directorate of Astronomy ? Miscellaneous Division ? Private Complaint Collection

  [Internal Note / Directorate of Astronomy] "Immortality": A futile effort attempting to violate the natural laws of decay. Common methods include: pickling, air-drying, freezing, and... turning oneself into a stone that will not rot.

  The walls of the Imperial Palace were towering, so red they looked freshly painted. Under the morning light, they cast a wet, gleaming reflection that resembled undried blood.

  Xie Bi’an had been following behind the young Commander of the Mirror Demon Division for the time it took two incense sticks to burn. His legs ached, and his head was swimming—a lingering aftereffect of the Records of Strange Tales from the Great Wilderness, combined with the symptoms of an unyielding hangover.

  "I say, Commander Shen," Xie Bi’an yawned, casually steadying the dozing silver cat, Anu, on his shoulder. "Are we going to see the Emperor, or are we on a pilgrimage for sacred scriptures? This road is far too long."

  Shen Wu walked ahead, his hand resting on his cold ring-pommel saber. He didn't turn around, but Xie Bi’an could feel that the back of the Mirror Demon Division Commander, clad in his black cloud-pattern combat uniform, was stiff.

  "Keep your voice down," Shen Wu ordered, his voice low and laced with an unnatural tension. "The 'Hall of Eternal Life' is just ahead. The smell here... is wrong."

  Xie Bi’an raised an eyebrow. The kid had sharp instincts.

  The smell was indeed wrong. As they walked deeper, the air no longer carried the floral scent of the imperial gardens or the ink fragrance of the studies. Instead, it reeked of a sickeningly sweet stench mixed with mercury and sulfur. Xie Bi’an was very familiar with this smell. It was the foul odor of dead fish kept on ice for too long—a stench no amount of spices could cover up. Woven into this fishy rot was a piercing chill that coated the surrounding red walls and green tiles in a thin layer of white frost.

  "We've arrived."

  Shen Wu stopped and bowed respectfully before a massive palace building. But as he bowed, his hand subconsciously tightened around his saber hilt until his knuckles turned white, as if a savage beast was lurking behind the doors, ready to pounce.

  This palace was "weird."

  All the lattice windows were sealed shut with thick black cloth, preventing even a single ray of sunlight from penetrating. It looked like a gigantic tomb. A steady stream of white, frigid air seeped from the cracks in the main doors, dropping the ambient temperature by at least ten degrees compared to the outside.

  "Summoning—Gleaner of the Directorate of Astronomy, Xie Bi’an, for an audience—"

  A shrill eunuch’s voice echoed from within the hall. The voice carried a distinct tremble, sounding hoarse and dry, as if the speaker's vocal cords had been cracked by the cold.

  Xie Bi’an pulled his collar tighter, gestured a "please" to Shen Wu, and pushed the doors open. The moment the doors parted, thick white fog surged out accompanied by a whistling hiss, rushing directly into their faces.

  The interior of the hall was pitch black, illuminated only by a few flickering, eerie blue eternal lamps in the corners. Relying on this faint light, Xie Bi’an made out the scene inside. Even prepared, Shen Wu inhaled a sharp breath of cold air and faltered in his steps.

  Was this a solemn imperial throne room, or a lavish morgue?

  The floor was paved with Suzhou cloud brocade embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons, and priceless mermaid-silk gauze hung all around. But right now, a thin layer of frost coated the expensive brocade, and the low temperature had stiffened the mermaid silk, making it hang in mid-air like dead human skin.

  Flanking both sides of the great hall were hundreds of massive, transparent crystal coffins arranged in neat rows. Inside each coffin lay a woman dressed in palace attire. Their complexions were rosy and lifelike, frozen smiles gracing their lips as if they were merely asleep. But Xie Bi’an could tell at a glance that their chests... were not rising and falling.

  "Tsk."

  Rather than being afraid, Xie Bi’an let out a click of his tongue in disgust. He walked up to a crystal coffin and knocked on the lid as if appraising an antique, producing a crisp rapping sound.

  "This wax-sealing craftsmanship is too shoddy," he shook his head, muttering in a voice only he could hear. "Injected too much embalming fluid; the faces are stretched out of shape. Plus, they added too much lead powder. It'll turn black over time. If I took this to the Ghost Market, I'd have to sell it at a seventy percent discount."

  Beside him, Shen Wu’s eye twitched, staring at Xie Bi’an like he was a lunatic. Was this man actually criticizing the poor craftsmanship of the Imperial Palace’s "collection"?

  "Gleaner Xie... you have arrived."

  An ancient, dry voice, sounding like two pieces of rotting wood rubbing together, echoed from behind the heavy curtains in the very center of the hall.

  Xie Bi’an snapped back to attention and knelt to perform the customary greeting. His movements were standard, yet permeated with an undeniable sense of perfunctoriness.

  "Your humble servant, Xie Bi’an, greets His Majesty."

  "Rise... grant him a seat."

  A young eunuch brought over an embroidered stool. After sitting down, Xie Bi’an noticed the eunuch’s movements were incredibly stiff. He walked without bending his knees, emitting a grinding creak-creak of mechanical friction, as if his joints were packed full of sand.

  "My beloved subject Xie," the old Emperor’s voice continued, carrying an unconcealable excitement. "I heard that at White Horse Temple, you turned that Filthy thing... into a Liuli Buddha?"

  "To reply to His Majesty," Xie Bi’an cupped his hands. "It was just a parlor trick. Merely sweeping away Filth, nothing to boast about."

  "No... that is a great ability."

  A hand, withered like firewood, abruptly thrust out, violently ripping aside the heavy curtains with a sharp swish. Xie Bi’an finally laid eyes on the Emperor, who, according to rumor, hadn't attended court in twenty years.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  He sat on the dragon throne, draped in a voluminous, bright yellow imperial robe. But he was far too thin; his entire being resembled a skeleton wrapped in clothes. There wasn't a single wrinkle on his face, his skin as smooth as a peeled egg—not because he looked young, but because his facial skin seemed to have been stretched taut by some translucent gelatinous substance, giving it an unnatural, plastic-like texture. His eyes were huge, lacking whites, appearing only as two bottomless black holes.

  "I... have continuously searched for the method of immortality." The old Emperor tremblingly picked up a pill that radiated a metallic luster, his eyes obsessed. "The Imperial Preceptor said that mortal flesh and blood will ultimately rot. Only gold and stone can remain immortal."

  He tossed the pill to Xie Bi’an.

  "Look at this. This is the 'Nine-Turn Golden Elixir' refined personally by the Imperial Preceptor."

  Xie Bi’an caught the pill. It was heavy and icy to the touch. He pinched it lightly with his thumbnail. With a sharp scrape, his nail nearly broke. The thing was as hard as scrap iron.

  Xie Bi’an brought it close and sniffed, his brow furrowing instantly.

  The greasy odor unique to aged corpse wax hit his nose, mixed with the earthy stench of cinnabar, lead, and mercury. Beneath that gleaming golden exterior hid a faint, irrepressible stench of rot. It was as if someone had forcibly plastered a thick layer of heavy metal putty over rotting meat just to cover it up.

  This was called an immortal elixir? Edible? This was essentially sugar-coated industrial waste.

  "Your Majesty," Xie Bi’an toyed with the "Golden Elixir," his tone carrying a hint of an expert's tact. "This thing... has too much fire energy. Eating too much of it might 'burn' the stomach and intestines."

  "Yes. My stomach and intestines... burned away long ago."

  The old Emperor sighed and patted his iron-stiff belly, producing a dull thump like striking thick leather.

  Suddenly, he stood up from the dragon throne. His movements were bizarre, like a marionette manipulated by strings, every bone protesting the motion.

  "I am very interested in your abilities. The Imperial Preceptor’s Golden Elixirs can only be taken internally, and the price is quite high. But your 'Liuli' seems to be able to perfectly seal everything from the outside?"

  When mentioning the words "Imperial Preceptor," the old Emperor’s voice noticeably trembled, his terrified gaze darting toward the shadows on the western side of the hall.

  "My beloved subject Xie," the old Emperor extended his skeletal, chicken-claw-like hand and grabbed Xie Bi’an’s sleeve. His fingernails were shockingly long and displayed a sickly bruised purple hue. "You were able to turn that pile of rotting meat into Liuli... then can you turn me into Liuli as well?"

  Xie Bi’an’s pupils contracted, and he quietly withdrew his sleeve.

  This old lunatic. He doesn't want to be cured; he wants to turn himself into a specimen.

  "Your Majesty," Xie Bi’an said calmly. "Liuli-fication is irreversible. Once turned to Liuli, though immortal, you will lose all sensation. How is that any different... from being dead?"

  "Dead?"

  The old Emperor suddenly laughed. When he laughed, the collagen on his face didn't shift or crease in the slightest. Only his mouth tore open into a wide gash, revealing blackened gums inside.

  "How is my current state... any different from being dead?"

  He violently ripped open the front of his robes.

  Beside them, Shen Wu let out a very soft intake of breath. The veins on the back of his hand bulged—he was desperately suppressing the urge to draw his blade. Xie Bi’an, however, merely narrowed his eyes, a cold glint of "just as I thought" flashing in their depths.

  Beneath that magnificent imperial robe, the old Emperor’s chest... was hollow.

  There was no heart, no lungs. The thoracic cavity had been hollowed out, the ribcage acting like a cage housing a transparent container filled with green liquid. Floating in the center of the container was a slowly beating jade heart, connected to countless translucent, fleshy tendrils. The jade heart was not pure; it was covered in black blood vessels. With every beat, it pumped a stream of fluorescent green liquid that flowed toward his limbs and bones.

  "Do you see?" The old Emperor pointed at the container, his voice shrill and mournful. "This is the immortality the Imperial Preceptor gave me! This 'Water of Eternal Life'... I have to change it ten times a day! Otherwise, it starts to stink!"

  He roared madly, his voice echoing through the grand hall, causing the surrounding crystal coffins to hum in resonance.

  Suddenly, the roaring stopped abruptly.

  The hall fell into a deathly silence. The old Emperor slowly leaned in close to Xie Bi’an. His black-hole eyes stared dead at him, and his voice became extremely light, extremely flat, as if sharing an earth-shattering secret:

  "Do you smell it?"

  He twitched his nose neurotically. "It was... smellier yesterday."

  "I have had enough of this rotting stench!" The old Emperor lost control of his emotions again, grabbing Xie Bi’an’s shoulders with astonishing strength. "Turn me into Liuli! I want to become that clean, transparent Liuli that will never, ever stink!"

  "Meow—!!"

  A sharp yowl, like tearing silk, interrupted the Emperor’s rant.

  Anu, who had been feigning sleep on Xie Bi’an’s shoulder the entire time, suddenly sprang into action. She seemed to have been nauseated by the rotting smell. With a flash of silver, her claws raked three deep gashes across the back of the Emperor’s hand.

  "Insolent!" Shen Wu instinctively drew his saber half an inch from its sheath, but immediately forced it back down.

  Xie Bi’an, however, raised a hand and pressed down on the spine of Shen Wu’s blade, his gaze fixed dead on the wounds on the Emperor’s hand.

  There was no blood.

  The flesh peeled back, revealing not red muscle, but a layer of grayish-white, fibrous stuffing. Fine dust drifted out from the wound, dancing under the eerie blue light. Xie Bi’an held his breath, recognizing exactly what that material was.

  The substance resembled cotton, but was sharper, carrying the pungent odor unique to fire-resistant materials. It was known as... Fire-Washed Cloth (Asbestos).

  "Hahahaha..."

  Looking at the fluff leaking from his own hand, the old Emperor wasn't angry; instead, he laughed with even greater madness. He reached in and pulled a clump of "cotton" from the wound, holding it under his nose and sniffing greedily.

  "Look! My beloved subject Xie! I rotted through long ago! This skin bag is stuffed with nothing but rotting wadding! Even the Imperial Preceptor refuses to spare me a second glance!"

  He jerked his head around, mad ghost-fire burning in his bottomless black eyes.

  "I give you one month."

  "In one month’s time, I will hold the 'Grand Ceremony of Liuli' here in the Hall of Eternal Life. You will be responsible for... completely sealing me."

  "Achieve this, and I promise you the position of Director of the Directorate of Astronomy, or even... half of this empire."

  The old Emperor leaned close to Xie Bi’an’s ear, his voice dropping low like an evil spirit:

  "Fail... and I will hand you over to the Imperial Preceptor to be made into the ten thousand and first 'Medicine Human' in this palace, just like them."

  He pointed to the women in the crystal coffins flanking the hall.

  The hand Shen Wu used to grip his saber was trembling slightly. As a Commander of the Mirror Demon Division, he had seen countless demons and monsters, but never had he witnessed a truth so despairing—the master of this nation was nothing more than a skin sack stuffed with waste materials.

  Yet Xie Bi’an remained expressionless.

  He simply brushed non-existent dust from his shoulder, acting as if negotiating the most ordinary of business deals, even though his stomach was churning violently:

  "This humble servant obeys the decree."

  By the time they walked out of the palace gates, the sun had risen high in the sky.

  Yet Xie Bi’an still felt a deadly cold clinging to his body. It wasn't the weather; it was from the proximity of the Emperor. It felt as if the asbestos fluff from the old Emperor was still stuck to his clothes.

  "Gleaner Xie," Shen Wu, who had been brooding silently beside him the entire way, suddenly spoke up. Though he tried to keep his tone calm, his face was terrifyingly pale. "His Majesty... is he still human?"

  "Human?"

  Xie Bi’an walked to the edge of the moat. Resting his hands on the white marble railing, he looked at his reflection in the water.

  "If having your organs hollowed out, being stuffed with cotton and preservatives, and being installed with a blackened heart counts as living... then I suppose he still counts as 'human'."

  "Anu," he called out calmly.

  The silver cat on his shoulder opened her mouth and spat out the small clump of grayish-white fluff she had clawed loose earlier. The fluff hit the river water with a sizzling hiss, instantly poisoning a patch of fish and shrimp around it. A layer of greasy green foam floated to the water's surface.

  Xie Bi’an sneered and unhooked the wine gourd from his waist, forgetting that it had long been empty. He could only swallow dryly in disappointment, trying to push down the hallucinatory stinging sensation in his throat.

  "The empire of Great Wei... truly is 'gold and jade on the outside, rotting cotton on the inside'."

  He raised his head, looking at the distant Imperial Palace—resplendent in gold and jade, yet reeking of corpse rot. Then he looked toward the west, at the towering "Star-Plucking Pavilion," said to be where the Imperial Preceptor observed the stars.

  At this very moment, a gaze was passing through the heavy palace walls, falling coldly upon him.

  "Commander Shen, it seems we've taken on one hell of a mess."

  Xie Bi’an rubbed his fingertips together and sniffed them. The earthy, lead-and-mercury stench from touching the "Golden Elixir" still seemed to linger.

  "Get ready to work. This Grand Ceremony of Liuli... I’m afraid it’s going to kill a lot of people."