Everyone followed the maid through the labyrinthine hallways, the air growing heavier with each step. Shi Yao couldn't shake the feeling—they had moved from the Queen's Palace to the Cold Palace, and now another palace, yet never once had they stepped outside.
His curiosity flickered in the dim candlelight, prompting a glance toward Li Yuan.
Without waiting for a question, Li Yuan answered as if reading his thoughts.
"In all subspaces, we are always within walls. Never outside."
Shi Yao frowned. A controlled space, he wondered.
Soon, they arrived.
Concubine Wen's Palace.
It was unlike the gold-laden grandeur of the Queen's Palace. Where the Queen's Palace radiated luxury and authority, this one exuded soft elegance, quiet tranquillity—a place meant to calm the mind, soothe the soul.
As Shi Yao stepped inside, his gaze traced the surroundings.
The walls were lined with scriptures. The air was thick with incense. Candles burned in abundance, their wax pooling like molten gold upon wooden tables.
It was too much—an excess of spirituality, drowning the space in ritualistic devotion.
Shi Yao muttered under his breath, "Using it this much… Might make one delirious."
A maid led them deeper into the palace, stopping before a chamber and announcing their presence.
"The fixers are here."
Inside, the room was already occupied—doctors, Taoists, figures draped in robes of tradition and ceremony.
Tian Rui, walking beside Shi Yao, muttered under his breath, barely loud enough to be heard.
"Are they curing disease or hunting ghosts…?"
Shi Yao chuckled. He couldn't disagree with the absurdity of it all.
Glancing toward Li Yuan, Shi Yao teased, "So? What are we looking for—disease or ghosts?"
Li Yuan's response was curt, unwavering.
"Neither."
Shi Yao observed the other fixers—some studied the artifacts lining the chamber, others examined the concubine herself, checking her pulse, inspecting her condition.
Yet even as they moved, there was caution in their steps. A lingering sense of unease.
Li Yuan spoke lowly, "Be careful. We don't know what kind of grudge this subspace holds."
Shi Yao nodded and turned his attention to the room itself.
Something was off.
His vision blurred slightly, the edges of his surroundings smearing together like an unfinished painting.
"Hmm? From earlier, I've been thinking... The incense here is too dense..."
He turned toward Li Yuan, intending to voice his suspicion—only to find Li Yuan opening his mouth to say something at the exact same time.
And then—
Shi Yao's eyes widened.
The figures around him began to fall.
One by one.
Fixers collapsed—even Li Yuan.
Shi Yao's breath caught in his throat. His body swayed. His vision dissolved into a consuming haze.
Then—darkness.