天命五劫

The ice beneath Ling Tian's feet cracked into a spiderweb pattern. The "Heaven and Earth in Reversal" hexagram was torn apart and reformed by the golden silkworm gu insects, transforming into a line of bloody script: "Mao Hour, Early. Kaiyang Alley. Knock on the door with a copper coin seven times."

He clenched the copper coin engraved with the character "Xuan," its sharp edge cutting into his palm. Blood droplets fell onto the ice and congealed into an arrow, pointing southward toward the city.

Morning mist in Kaiyang Alley carried the metallic scent of rust. Fragments of bone were wedged between the cracks of the bluestone slabs. When Ling Tian counted the seventh brick, his fingers brushed against tarnished copper—an indentation of a hexagram appeared on the brick's surface, perfectly matching the copper coin in his grasp.

The moment he embedded the coin into the slot, an iron chain dangled from the eaves, at the end of which hung a child's corpse. Seven copper coins were nailed into its chest in the shape of the Big Dipper, with the last coin engraved with the character "Xuan."

The child's corpse suddenly opened its eyes. Its decayed vocal cords rasped out human speech: "To defy destiny… first sever your heart's demons…" Before the words had fully faded, the corpse exploded into a mist of blood, and the copper coins embedded themselves into the surrounding brick walls. The red threads connecting them wove into a net.

Ling Tian struck out with his fist, shattering the flying copper coins, yet they curved midair, embedding themselves instead into the locust tree behind him. The bark peeled away, revealing a hidden door—its handles shaped like twin bronze divination disks, missing the "Qian" trigram coin.

He pressed his blood-stained coin into the mechanism, triggering the grinding of gears within.

At the center of the secret chamber, a bronze coffin was seeping blood. On its lid was an engraved star map, with five blank spaces marked in cinnabar. Two of them had already been filled—one coin bore the name "Ling," the other "Xuan."

Suddenly, the Blood Bodhi in Ling Tian's arms grew scorching hot. Scarlet threads, like roots, burrowed from his skin and pushed a third copper coin into the vacant "Kan" position.

With a thunderous crash, the coffin lid flew open. What erupted from within was not corpse gas but a swarm of moths. Their wings shimmered with phosphorescent dust, forming a face—the face of the very Eastern Depot officer Ling Tian had killed three days prior.

The moths flocked toward the bronze coffin, and the dust settled into a copper mirror inside. Yet, its reflection did not show Ling Tian but the back of a robed figure, flipping copper coins in his fingers while arranging the "Heaven and Earth in Reversal" hexagram before the City God Temple.

"Wu Hour, Third Quarter… City God Temple…"

The figure's murmur echoed through the mirror, his voice distorted as if heard through rippling water.

Ling Tian smashed the mirror with his fist. But instead of shards, a swarm of golden silkworm gu insects burrowed into his ear canal. Agony surged through him as visions flooded his mind—himself at three years old, nailed to an altar, his father pressing a copper coin into his brow, the "Xuan" character glistening with blood. His mother screamed beside him, clutching half of the Heavenly Craft Codex—the missing cover of which now lay in his own arms.

Rain dripped black from the eaves of the City God Temple. When Ling Tian kicked open its rotting doors, the copper mirror on the offering table suddenly shattered. A pale hand stretched out from the fragments, its tiger's mouth bearing the same birthmark as his own.

The moment it grasped his wrist, silver-threaded gu worms wriggled from its rotting flesh, burrowing into his veins toward his heart.

"Seventy-nine generations…" rasped a voice from the mirror. "Pain is the bait for the Heart Lock Gu. The longer you nurture it, the closer you draw to Ling Huaiyuan…"

Ling Tian tore the worms apart, but the silver threads wove themselves into a sword formation midair.

Ripping open his collar, he let the Blood Bodhi's roots surge forth. The living crimson threads crushed the sword formation in an instant. The mirror let out a cold laugh before shattering completely, revealing a hidden chamber behind it.

A jade-glazed jar sat within, containing a floating human heart. The organ was inscribed with hexagrams, and the blood vessels connecting it were made of red silk threads.

Outside, the clatter of hooves broke the silence. The Eastern Depot officers rode in, their mourning staves wrapped in talisman paper. The copper bells on the stave tops jingled, and corpses along the streets twisted upright, their joints bending backward like spiders.

Ling Tian embedded his copper coin into the socket atop a mourning stave. The talisman paper ignited, and the horde of dead turned on their former masters.

The leading officer tore off his mask, revealing the tumor-ridden face of the pawnshop master. As his flesh melted into a crimson mist, his final words fused with the screeches of gu worms:

"You're nothing but a used-up divination vessel! Ling Huaiyuan should have died thirty years ago!"

When the fifth watch's clapper echoed across the city, Ling Tian discovered a hidden chamber at the bottom of the temple's well.

A desiccated corpse was nailed to the wall, clad in the official robes of the previous dynasty's Astronomical Bureau. In its clenched hand was a star map, its five vacant hexagram positions marked with names: "Ling, Xuan, Xiao, Shi, Su."

At the corpse's feet lay a ceramic urn brimming with copper coins, every single one engraved with the character "Xuan."

Beneath the pile, a prescription slip was pressed:

"Seventh day of the seventh month, Third Quarter of Zi Hour. Feed the Blood Bodhi with the blood of Five Tribulations to nourish Heaven's Mandate