Chapter 1 The Awakening
...
"Darkness sleeps, daylight dawns, yet the world shall fall!"
An ancient, familiar prophecy echoed in his ears. Xu Mu snapped awake, his grayish pupils meeting the world—then swiftly turning black.
Before him loomed a palace of staggering grandeur, a celestial temple forged from translucent jade, standing amidst the clouds of the ninth heaven. Countless steps spiraled upward, flanked by colossal pillars entwined with golden-scaled, sun-bright dragons whose beards shimmered like fire. Mist curled around them like whispers from another realm.
Staring at this structure—so close, yet impossibly distant—Xu Mu felt a surge of irritation.
Since he was seven, every morning before waking, his consciousness lingered in this space. At first, he’d been curious, treating it as some hidden fate. But over time, he realized no matter what he did, he could never draw near the palace. Not even an inch.
Perhaps it was all just an illusion?
Xu Mu rubbed his aching head. For years, he’d dismissed it as a dream. Maybe this was merely the mischief of the parasite in his mind—a cruel toy to torment him.
Hmm… How long had he slept? What had he done last night?
Xu Mu’s expression grew blank. He remembered patrolling normally, then expending immense effort driving off a horde of specters. But in the end, one remained. And that specter… seemed oddly familiar.
As he recalled its face, his heart quickened involuntarily. He couldn’t remember what it looked like now. All he remembered was the instant he saw it—the sudden stop of his heartbeat.
That person… meant everything to him.
"Hmm? A window?"
Xu Mu wandered aimlessly. Suddenly, the thick fog parted—and there, suspended in midair, floated a single window, as if waiting for him to open it.
Creak…
Carefully, Xu Mu pushed it open.
Beyond lay a courtyard he knew too well.
The wooden training post, drying animal hides, scraps of wild boar meat left uneaten—everything was unmistakably his own home in Fengqing Village. Even the window of his house stood open.
Through the glass, something dark and indistinct seemed to lie inside his room.
Staring at the blurred shape, Xu Mu’s right eyelid twitched violently. A terrible premonition gripped him. He leaned forward, desperate to see more clearly.
"A corpse?"
His pulse surged. As he leaned closer, trying to identify the figure on the ground, the body suddenly turned its head.
...
"Boom!"
The clock on the wall swung. Seven o’clock had struck. The celestial palace in Xu Mu’s dream collapsed instantly. The surrounding space shattered like broken mirrors, each fragment plummeting toward the earth.
Just as he braced for impact, he woke.
Huff!
Xu Mu opened his eyes. Unshaken by the nightmare, he sprang upright in one fluid motion, rolling to his feet without hesitation.
"It's exactly as I saw in my dream!"
He stared at the corpse on the ground. His body trembled uncontrollably. He knew this man.
His name was Wu Kui.
Xu Mu and Wu Kui were not ordinary acquaintances.
Wu Kui was his savior, his adoptive father.
Xu Mu remembered Wu Kui once telling him he’d been abandoned as a baby in the Great Xishan Mountains, and it was Wu Kui who found him and brought him to Fengqing Village, where the villagers helped raise him.
Wu Kui had treated him like family—taught him to read and write, taught him how to survive. Over the years, Xu Mu had grown into the most renowned hunter within a hundred miles, famed for his prodigious strength and silent demeanor. The imperial court had appointed him as the village’s Night Watchman.
But now Wu Kui was dead. Killed in the very night he was sworn to protect.
"Charles, tell me what happened."
Xu Mu’s voice shook. He’d personally warned Wu Kui the night before to stay indoors, not to go out. So why, upon waking, was he already dead?
"Figure it out yourself," came the mechanical voice in his mind.
Xu Mu lifted the corpse, feeling the cold that spanned across time and space. A tear slipped down his cheek.
...
After a long silence, Xu Mu wiped his tears and exhaled deeply.
"Fine. I’ll do it myself." His eyes were red-rimmed. With a sudden, fierce motion, he drew his hunting knife.
"Just a corpse examination—nothing more. You taught me: start with external signs."
His hands trembled uncontrollably as he stripped Wu Kui’s clothes:
"Neck wound—five centimeters, clean cut—lethal injury."
"Abdominal bite mark—tissue punctured, uneven pattern—initial assessment: caused by a specter."
"Fingernails blackened, rough, dry, cracked—localized necrosis. No blood in the body."
Xu Mu froze.
Bite marks. No blood. Clearly, Wu Kui had been drained of his essence by a specter.
Cold seeped into his soul. The sequence was clear now. Wu Kui had been infected, transformed into a specter, then appeared before him. At that moment, control of his body had been seized.
And finally, Wu Kui had died by blade.
Exhausted, Xu Mu stared at the knife in his hand, unable to believe what he’d concluded.
Years ago, two souls—one dormant since birth—had awakened within him.
One was a robot, the only being on Blue Star capable of understanding human emotion. It mastered mathematics, physics, medicine, chemistry—truly omniscient.
The other was a mysterious figure, never introduced, always quiet, with eyes that flickered between radiant gold and ashen gray. Every night, when darkness fell, he stole control of Xu Mu’s body.
During those times, Xu Mu sank into unconsciousness. What the other did with his body—he had no memory.
Like last night. After driving off the horde, the stranger had taken over.
He’d seen Wu Kui become a specter. So he’d drawn the blade and killed him?
"Charles… is it really like that?"
Xu Mu, through simple deduction, had pieced it together. He buried his head in his hands, collapsing to the ground in regret.
Why hadn’t he protected Wu Kui?
At that moment, a stream of silver-white light drifted from his body.
"Congratulations, host. Your forensic science has finally taken root!" The light had no face, yet spoke.
"Exactly as you deduced. Last night, Wu Kui was infected by a specter and appeared before you. You killed him."
Though now only a spirit, Charles remained fundamentally a machine. To Xu Mu’s logical question, he answered without delay.
"Be precise. Was it me—or him?"
Xu Mu’s voice was hoarse. Even without the stranger’s takeover, his memories of last night were hazy. That single blow—whose hand had delivered it? This mattered deeply.
"Was it me… or him?"
The silver data streamed steadily. Charles repeated, "Pay attention: I am the sole sentient intelligence on Blue Star capable of understanding human emotion. My logic is flawless."
"Regardless of who wielded the blade, it was still you who killed him. Or rather, a specter. You used your left hand. Then brought the body back here."
Charles’s tone remained calm. He hovered before Xu Mu, his data flow pointing to the corpse on the ground—like a criminal identifying the scene of a murder.
Xu Mu’s jaw clenched. If that were true, then he was guilty of the unforgivable.
"Could he be revived?"
Charles: "On my planet, yes. But here…"
"You taught me: men don’t say ‘can’t’!"
Xu Mu’s voice cracked. He cut Charles off sharply.
Charles fell silent. He understood Xu Mu’s pain—but medical technology here was too limited. Reviving the dead required tools beyond reach. Helpless, he retreated into Xu Mu’s mind, resting briefly.
"One minute remaining. Dispose of the body quickly. Place a sachet inside the house. Iron ions in the air will carry the scent of blood—exposing you."
"Beware. The visitor is dangerous."
Pleading wouldn’t help. Xu Mu forced himself to steady. Pale-faced, he sat up. He didn’t understand Charles’s words.
Dangerous… who?
...
"Creak!"
The iron gate of the courtyard creaked open. The wind chime trembled softly. Footsteps approached—two pairs.
Xu Mu was busy concealing the body. His right ear twitched slightly. He recognized only two people who ever came here: Wu Kui, and Zhao Dayong.
Wu Kui was dead.
The heavy tread outside belonged to Zhao Dayong.
Then who was the other—so light, so soft, barely audible except when stepping on dry leaves?
"Clang!"
The wooden door burst open. Dim light flooded the room.
A woman stood silhouetted in the doorway—beautiful, sharp-eyed, dressed in official government robes.
Across from her, Xu Mu looked hollow, exhausted.
"You’re the night watchman of Fengqing Village?"
Her voice was icy, piercing. Her gaze, like thirty knives hidden in silk.
Xu Mu nodded slowly, feigning sleepiness. He yawned lazily.
"I’m Xu Mu. Who are you?"
He rubbed his eyes, using the motion to scan her attire.
"Redwood square token. Black-gold short sword at waist. Crimson official robe draped over shoulders."
His hand froze mid-motion.
Perhaps now he understood what Charles meant by *dangerous*.
"Yin Shuier, Division of Demon Exorcism. Sent to investigate."
Her eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"You are under suspicion. You must cooperate."