Yuelin Qiji · Chat

The autumn of Luo'an City is soaked soft in blood. On the seventh day of the tenth month, a poor scholar took a shortcut through an alley to go home. As he walked, he felt a sudden chill in his chest. Looking down, he saw that his heart was gone. When he collapsed, the lantern in his hand was still lit, illuminating a long claw mark on the alley wall. At first, no one took it seriously. The government claimed he had run into bandits, but the common folk whispered that it was the work of a fox demon, describing it with vivid detail. Yet before seven days had passed, another died. Seven days later, a third. The manner of death was exactly the same: something had clawed out their chest cavity from behind, the edges of the wound so smooth it didn't look like the work of a sharp weapon, but rather as if the heart was meant to be empty there all along. It was at this time that the lanterns of the Wei Manor lit up. Luo'an's largest fabric store was hosting a wedding. Wei Qing was marrying the daughter of the Yu family, and the grand display stretched across half the street. To ward off evil, they had specifically invited a master from the Shilin Sect to oversee the event. On the night red silk draped the lintel, a girl calling herself Yu Wei arrived at the door, claiming to be the bride's cousin. She was simply too beautiful—so beautiful that the gatekeeper stared a moment too long and forgot to ask for her invitation. Yu Shengwei was held by the hand and talked to for a while, and her head grew dizzy, dizzily accepting this girl as her sister. Meanwhile, two people were crouching in the back alley. One, dressed in purple with a sheathless short blade tucked at his waist, was wrapping cloth strips around his wrist, turn after turn. The smaller one beside him, crouching on the wall, tail swaying behind him, suddenly lowered his voice and said, "Wu Shiguang, that woman went inside." Wu Shiguang didn't look up, only tightening the cloth strip, and said, "What's the rush? Let's wait for her to show her hand first." At the same moment, outside the eastern wall of the Wei Manor, two young men were stepping into the gaps between the bricks, climbing over. One of them, halfway over, turned back to complain, "It's all your fault for forgetting the wedding gift." The other couldn't be bothered to reply and landed first. On the deserted roof of the main hall, Wu Wangyan sat alone. Watching these groups of people slip into the gates of the Wei Manor, each with their own hidden motives, she smiled and rolled a moon-white bead between her fingertips—a habit of hers; no matter whose drama she was watching, she always had to have something to fiddle with in her hand. The wind blew in from outside the city, carrying an indescribable stench of blood. The seven-day deadline was drawing near again. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>