On the night of the new moon, the sky was clear and moonless, with countless stars scattered across the dark expanse.

Fu Su stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper, gazing down at the view below. He could see almost the entire city, with countless lights twinkling brilliantly like jewels. Even with his steadfast resolve, such magnificent scenery inevitably stirred his heart and mind.

The earth lay beneath his feet, and it seemed as though he need only spread his arms to embrace the entire world.

Of course, this was merely imagination.

He had lost the right to possess this world long, long ago.

The biting wind howled past his ears, whipping Fu Su’s hair across his forehead and revealing the ugly burn scars around his eye sockets.

A clear bird cry came from overhead. A small crimson bird descended from the night sky, riding the wind currents in spiraling circles before finally perching on Fu Su’s shoulder.

Fu Su withdrew his wandering gaze and stared fixedly at the city’s nightscape below, trying to pick out the light belonging to the Dumb House among the dense constellation of lights.

Actually, even if he were gone, Bi would continue living well, wouldn’t he?

Just as he had for the past two thousand years.

But still, he felt so unwilling to accept it…

As time passed, the stars moved slowly across the night sky, the city lights gradually dimmed one by one, and the car lights on the streets became increasingly sparse.

Fu Su stood in the wind like a statue, not moving for a long time. The Minghong on his shoulder, however, couldn’t stay still. It either tilted its head to preen its own feathers or habitually tried to tidy Fu Su’s windblown hair. But Fu Su’s hair wasn’t as long as Hu Hai’s, so despite numerous attempts, Minghong failed each time. Still, it found new entertainment in this, hopping about chasing the strands of hair floating in the wind, playing with great delight.

Suddenly, Minghong stopped its movements and turned its head toward somewhere in the darkness, its gaze sharp and alert.

Sensing something, Fu Su followed its gaze and turned around, just in time to see a man in a trench coat emerge from the darkness.

This man wore leather boots but walked silently. His coat’s hem fluttered in the wind as if he had arrived riding the breeze itself. His bewitching eyes stared at Fu Su without courtesy, like an unsheathed blade, radiating deadly intent.

“Lord Chamberlain, it’s been a long time,” Fu Su smiled with the corner of his mouth, his presence completely matching Zhao Gao’s. After all, he was the heir personally cultivated by the First Emperor.

Zhao Gao was momentarily stunned by these words, then spoke in a voice completely devoid of emotion: “That title… it’s been quite a while since I’ve heard it.”

Fu Su’s hands clasped behind his back clenched uncontrollably. Was this man flaunting that he had become the Chancellor of the Great Qin Empire after Fu Su’s death? Taking a deep breath, Fu Su suppressed the anger in his heart, because dwelling on such matters wouldn’t help him at all. He organized his thoughts and slowly asked: “You arranged to meet me—what is the purpose?”

This was a strange scene indeed. Fu Su was facing the very person who had killed him, yet he remained calm and composed, as if facing a stranger.

A gentleman’s revenge may come after a thousand years.

Zhao Gao stopped in front of Fu Su and handed him a brocade box, indicating he should open it.

Fu Su accepted the box without hesitation.

This seemingly unguarded action caused Minghong on his shoulder to flap its wings twice in warning, but Fu Su still opened the lid without hesitation.

Inside the brocade box lay two jade spheres, each about the size of a fist.

The one on the left was black jade, the one on the right was yellow jade.

“What are these…” Fu Su frowned in confusion. Zhao Gao wouldn’t randomly show him two ordinary jade spheres—these two orbs must have significant origins.

“Beyond the northwest sea, north of the Red Water, lies Mount Zhangwei. There dwells a god with a human face and serpent body, colored red, with straight eyes facing true north. When it closes its eyes, darkness falls; when it opens them, light appears. It neither eats nor sleeps nor rests, and wind and rain attend upon it. This is Zhu Jiuyin, this is the Candle Dragon. These are the Candle Dragon’s Eyes.” Zhao Gao’s voice was completely flat and measured, speaking in a monotone that was extremely uncomfortable to hear.

“When it closes its eyes, darkness falls; when it opens them, light appears… The eyes of the Candle Dragon that brings night with closed eyes and day with open ones?” Fu Su was somewhat shocked. He wasn’t someone without worldly experience. On the contrary, back in the day, his father the First Emperor had shown him various divine artifacts passed down from ancient times. Furthermore, after his rebirth, he had seen many wondrous antiques at the Dumb House, so logically he shouldn’t be so disturbed.

But these were the Candle Dragon’s Eyes—the legendary Candle Dragon!

Logically speaking, those eyes shouldn’t be so small… and they looked quite ordinary.

Fu Su couldn’t help but start muttering complaints in his heart, and his facial expression inevitably showed some doubt.

“Actually, those two lines don’t have only those interpretations.” Zhao Gao revealed an inscrutable smile and gestured toward the two jade spheres. “Ming means vague and ethereal, while hui refers to the end of the month—the last day of each lunar month. And shi means to see, while ming means clarity.”

“So you’re saying that on the night of the new moon, one can see something?” Fu Su felt Zhao Gao’s explanation was far too forced, but he casually followed his lead with the question.

“The left eye can observe the past, the right eye can see the future.” Zhao Gao said flatly. “Touch them with your hand, then close your eyes. If the Young Master doesn’t believe it, you’re welcome to try.”

Fu Su looked up at the night sky and saw no trace of the moon, only then realizing that tonight was indeed the new moon. He looked back down at the seemingly unremarkable jade spheres in the brocade box and said with little interest: “Isn’t everyone’s future just to step into death? What’s worth seeing about death?”

“Oh? I didn’t expect the Young Master to be such a carefree person. Are you really not curious about how you’ll die in the future, or when you’ll die?” Zhao Gao’s voice sounded particularly sinister, yet carried a seductive quality.

Fu Su’s eyes remained clear and unwavering. He closed the box lid and handed it back, looking directly at Zhao Gao with meaningful light laughter: “As someone who has already died once, I’m not particularly concerned about such things.”

The corners of Zhao Gao’s lips curved slightly, but he didn’t accept the returned brocade box. Instead, he persisted in his persuasion: “Actually, you can see not just the ultimate future, but anyone’s future at any time. Young Master, are you truly not curious?”

Fu Su’s hand holding the brocade box trembled slightly, and his firm resolve rarely wavered.

There couldn’t be such a good thing that required no price to be paid.

And Zhao Gao couldn’t possibly be so kind-hearted as to eagerly present such a wonderful item to him.

But right now, he had nothing left, so it seemed he had nothing left to fear losing.

Fu Su slowly drew back the box he had been offering, removed his gloves, revealing fingers that already showed signs of corpse spots. Despite Minghong’s anxious chirping, he stubbornly opened the brocade box. Unexpectedly, Zhao Gao casually added another comment.

“However, if the Young Master wishes to see that Lord Minister’s future, I advise against trying.”

Fu Su’s hand froze in mid-air as he looked up with a dark expression: “Why?”

Zhao Gao again displayed his rigid expression of smiling without warmth, pointing to himself: “Not just that Lord Minister, but myself and your worthless younger brother—none of us can have our futures seen with the Candle Dragon’s Eyes.”

“Because we are all the departed.”

“The departed?” Fu Su frowned as he repeated the word.

“That’s right. Actually, death originally represented two concepts. Si means to pass away, while wang means to flee. The Shuowen states: ‘Wang means to escape.’ In the phrase ‘mending the pen after the sheep have fled,’ the fled sheep refers to escaped sheep, not dead sheep.” Zhao Gao’s tone inevitably carried some pride and arrogance, even his emotionless monotone could convey this. “The dead are those who have passed away, while the departed are actually those who have escaped from Death’s control.”

Fu Su fell into contemplation. Why could the Book of the Dead summon him—could it be that he was also considered a departed soul rather than a dead spirit? Then he should also count as one of the departed, and shouldn’t be able to use these Candle Dragon’s Eyes to see his own future, right? Had Zhao Gao brought these unusable Candle Dragon’s Eyes just to toy with him?

As if reading Fu Su’s thoughts, Zhao Gao raised an eyebrow mockingly: “Though we cannot see the departed’s futures, we can glimpse the futures of humans who have intersections with the departed.”

Fu Su felt uncomfortable about the words “humans,” as clearly in Zhao Gao’s mind, he himself was no longer human.

Setting this thought aside for now, Fu Su stared at the yellow jade sphere for a long moment, then finally pressed down his hand that had been suspended in air for so long.

Minghong cried out again in worry, but was silenced by Zhao Gao’s cold glance, not daring to move.

The moment Fu Su’s finger touched the yellow jade sphere, it emitted a glowing yellow light. A vertical pupil suddenly appeared in the center of the yellow sphere, like a monster opening one eye.

Fu Su slowly closed his eyes.

On the silent street, three figures stood in quiet stillness. The dim yellow streetlight above them flickered several times, seeming to grow even dimmer.

Tang Yuan looked terrified.

Whether he was afraid of the doctor who might come after them or shocked that his senior brother had actually made a mistake and let the spirit of the green stone tablet escape, he couldn’t tell.

But since the doctor had already seen them, Tang Yuan didn’t have the courage to flee now. He could only reflexively reach out to catch that green point of light, but it was futile—the green light only flashed between his fingers for a moment before instantly vanishing without a trace.

Tang Yuan stamped his feet anxiously. Although he felt the green stone tablet wasn’t a malevolent antique, since it had already begun tempting humans to give up their lives, letting it escape this time could spell trouble for the future.

“Hmm? What are you trying to catch? Are there still fireflies in this season?” The doctor’s voice still carried obvious anger.

Tang Yuan knew this uncle had a good temper and rarely got angry, so this time he must have really been infuriated. Tang Yuan shrank his neck, considering whether to throw himself into his senior brother’s embrace for protection…

But just as this thought emerged, he noticed his senior brother’s expression looked somewhat off.

Well, though it was still the same expressionless face as before, he could clearly see that his entire body had stiffened. Huh? Speaking of which, the careless mistake of letting the green stone tablet escape didn’t seem like something his senior brother, who Master described as brilliant and mighty, would make! Could it be that senior brother and the doctor knew each other? The doctor uncle had never mentioned it!

While he was pondering this, the doctor had already stridden over, pulled Tang Yuan to hide behind himself, and questioned the boss standing there with full wariness: “You… who are you? Why are you abducting my Tang Yuan?”

Tang Yuan helplessly wiped his face behind the doctor’s back, made an apologetic gesture toward his senior brother, then tugged at the doctor’s sleeve while acting cute: “Uncle, don’t wrongly accuse people! I was hungry and wanted to come out to buy food!”

“You’re lying!” The doctor furrowed his brow tightly, his anger rising as he looked down at Tang Yuan’s Bambi-like eyes. He couldn’t maintain his stern expression for more than a few seconds before giving in, pinching the boy’s little cheeks and scolding: “If you were hungry, why didn’t you order delivery? You’ve used this excuse more than ten times already! Can you show some sincerity and come up with a new one?”

“Sorry…” Tang Yuan apologized meekly, wondering how to explain this properly. But the doctor uncle was too crafty! He had actually put a tracking bracelet on him!

The doctor could tell from Tang Yuan’s expression that the little guy was making up excuses. He decided to properly deal with this kid when they got home, while shifting his gaze to the young man standing across from them.

Actually, the doctor had vaguely heard about the strange incidents that had been occurring at this intersection over the past few days. Not only had he heard about them, but he had personally witnessed the initial car accident. So when he saw on his phone’s location map that little Tang Yuan had run here alone, he became so angry. Every day, strange people would take the place of the green stone tablet and stand here, then die afterward. The doctor obviously already suspected the young man across from them.

He carefully examined the other person—looked to be around twenty years old, wearing a normal coat on the outside, but underneath was a strange shirt embroidered with crimson dragon patterns. His face was hidden in the shadows where the streetlight couldn’t reach, so only the line of his jaw was visible…

The more the doctor looked, the more his heart raced, because though he had never seen this person before, there was a suffocating sense of familiarity washing over him.

“Uh… are you…” The doctor unconsciously took a step forward.

The young man said nothing, only quietly put the small bamboo cage in his hand back into his coat pocket, then turned to leave.

The doctor awkwardly stopped in his tracks, because Tang Yuan was desperately tugging at his sleeve.

“Hey, Uncle, let’s go get late-night snacks! You didn’t get to eat the spicy crab last time, let’s go buy another pot!” Tang Yuan planned to smooth things over with food. After all, he had already recognized his senior brother, and senior brother would come find him sooner or later!

In the doctor’s moment of distraction, the young man had already passed through the barriers and disappeared into the bustling commercial street.

“You little brat, you make mistakes and still dare to order food!”

“Uncle, you’re the best! Uncle!”

“…Let’s go.”

“Hooray!”