Li Wei stood atop the roof of the warehouse, his robes fluttering in the morning breeze as the first golden rays of dawn kissed the battered tiles beneath his feet. The faint scent of iron and burnt qi still lingered in the air. From this height, the city's outskirts appeared calm again—an illusion only fools would believe.

He took another slow sip from the porcelain cup in his hand, letting the warmth of the tea travel through him. Bitter… but alive. The aftertaste of battle clung to his tongue as surely as the blood that had stained his palms only hours before.

Below him, the small compound was littered with the remnants of battle—charred corpses, split weapons, and faint wisps of burnt spiritual essence that had not yet dispersed. Just last night, over a dozen highly trained martial practitioners had come to end his life. They had worn the insignia of the Golden Sparrow Sect, but their qi bore a stench he could recognize anywhere: corruption mingled with celestial interference.

"Wolves in silk, dogs under heaven," he muttered to himself, setting the cup down beside his foot. "When the sun rises, even the ghosts pretend to be men."

At that time, when the strike came, Li Wei had only just received the System's offer—a reward he had neither sought nor fully trusted. The warehouse had been cloaked in the dull glow of lanterns, its silence shattered when the formation outside ignited.

He remembered it vividly: shadows creeping across the floorboards, muffled footfalls, then the sudden crackle of spiritual energy as they breached both entrances simultaneously.

He had smiled then—not from arrogance, but from a weary understanding. "The world never tires of testing me," he had said softly, activating the Mirror Seal Fragment that hovered in his System inventory.

The item had cost him nothing. That alone had been reason for suspicion.

Yet when the storm of blades and techniques descended upon him, the fragment's power surged forth—an ethereal barrier of mirrored light that reflected not just attacks, but intent.

Every killing will, every blood-soaked oath, had turned back upon its source. Within moments, those same assassins were screaming as their spiritual projections tore themselves apart. Their bodies had burned with white fire, leaving nothing but faint silhouettes of ash.

Li Wei sipped his tea again, eyes narrowing as he replayed the memory. "The system's hand grows bolder," he murmured. "Aid and deception—two faces of the same coin."

He did not believe in coincidences. He had been a wanderer, a cultivator who had clawed his way up from the gutters of the northern borderlands. Fortune had never favored him without a hidden cost. If the System had intervened so precisely—discounting, gifting, and arming him in perfect rhythm with the ambush—then it was not by chance.

"Every thread of fate has a puppeteer," he whispered, watching a hawk circle above the distant treeline.

The Mirror Seal Fragment still pulsed faintly in his consciousness, a remnant of its bond to his soul. When he closed his eyes, he could see it—an intricate sigil etched upon the surface of his inner world, reflecting fragments of his spirit back at him. Beautiful. Dangerous.

'Once accepted, it cannot be undone,' the warning had said.

He now understood why.

The price of survival was never written in gold or coins. It was written in essence, in the weight of one's own spirit. And now, part of his soul no longer belonged to him.

He turned his gaze toward the hills in the distance, where the border between the Qianlong and Huanjing provinces connect "So," he muttered, "the winds shift again. Even out here, far from the imperial capital, their shadow reaches me."

From behind him, the old warehouse door creaked open. A low voice called out, hoarse but respectful. "Master Li, the cleanup is nearly done. What should we do with the remains?"

Li Wei didn't turn. "Bury the bodies by the northern ditch," he said evenly. "But burn the ashes of their spirits. No trace must remain. The Golden Sparrow Sect has ways of calling back the fallen."

The man hesitated. "Understood. But… Sir, their weapons—some are from an imperial forge. Would it not be wise to—"

Li Wei raised a hand, silencing him. "Melt them. Every last one. Steel that has tasted treachery carries misfortune. To wield it is to invite calamity."

The subordinate bowed low, his steps retreating quickly back inside.

Li Wei let the quiet settle once more, while his eyes glimmered in the sunlight. The Mirror Seal Fragment had saved him, but it had also revealed something far more disturbing. During the battle, as his enemies' techniques rebounded upon them, he had caught glimpses of something beyond the material plane.

It was like a shimmering lattice of symbols connecting the assassins' souls to some distant source.

A celestial imprint.

That meant only one thing: they were not acting alone. Someone high in the imperial court—or worse, within the heavens themselves—was feeding them power.

He clenched his jaw. "The heavens meddle again… always with mortal lives as their board pieces."

There was an old proverb his master once told him: "When the stars descend, the wise hide their name." It had sounded poetic back then—now, it was survival.

He tilted his head back toward the light, the sun haloing his features. "If the heavens wish to test me," he said softly, "then I'll carve a path they cannot close."

Hours passed. The morning became noon, and the warehouse grew still. Li Wei remained upon the roof, lost in quiet thought. Around him, the air shimmered faintly with residual energy. The Mirror Seal Fragment continued to hum beneath his consciousness, and then—suddenly—it pulsed.

A system chime echoed in his mind, cold and metallic.

[System Alert: Mirror Seal Resonance Increasing]

Warning: Celestial interference has detected host signature.

New Quest: "Echoes of the First Seal" — Investigate the origin of the Mirror Fragment. Completion Reward: Unknown.

Li Wei's expression darkened. "So it begins again…"

He summoned the system interface with a flick of his hand. The translucent screen hovered before him, displaying the familiar menu. Yet now, a new section pulsed with faint silver light—an emblem shaped like a broken mirror shard.

When he touched it, an image unfolded—an expanse of void, where countless mirrors floated aimlessly. Within each, fragments of faces, voices, and realms flickered in and out of existence. Some bore the glow of the heavens; others, the darkness of hells.

And at the very center, a great mirror stood cracked down the middle—its reflection distorted beyond comprehension.

Li Wei's heart skipped a beat. "The Mirror Realm…" he whispered.

He had read about it once, in forbidden records of the Eastern Archives. The Mirror Realm was said to be the border between the mortal plane and the Celestial Abyss—a prison of reflections where gods sealed their failures. No mortal artifact should bear its mark.

"Why would the system grant me something from there?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Unless…"

Unless it wanted to use him as a vessel.

He dismissed the screen and exhaled deeply. His breath left a thin mist that shimmered with qi. Beneath his calm exterior, unease gnawed at him. The system had aided his survival—but now, it was tying his fate to realms no human should tread.

Still, retreat was not in his nature. He stood, adjusting his outer robe, and picked up the teacup beside him. Only a drop remained. He poured it upon the roof, a silent offering to those who had perished in foolish loyalty.

"May your spirits find peace," he said softly. "And may your masters choke on their own folly." As he turned to descend, his gaze caught a flicker of movement on the far horizon—a faint ripple in the air, like heat over sand. His pupils constricted.

Someone—or something—was watching him.

He smiled faintly, not with warmth but with challenge. "If you've come to finish what your lackeys started," he murmured, "then come closer. The sun's light welcomes all."

The wind picked up again, carrying the faint echo of laughter—or perhaps memory—across the roof. Li Wei's eyes hardened.

There was no rest for those who walked between heaven and hell. And as the sun climbed higher, burning away the last shadows of night, Li Wei knew his woes had only just begun.

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