Chapter 1: The Beam Map in the Ruins

Rain in Osaka always carried the taste of rust, a murky curtain trapping the old wooden machiya towns in shadows that bled into the mud. Xiaoxue knelt on the riverbank, where the water was high enough to drown her ankles. Both her hands were pressed flat against the rotting edge of the overhang, her fingernails white-knuckled from the effort. It was the seventh night she had been back in her hometown, and the first time she had actually touched the wreckage left behind by the Broken Beam Gate.

A century of rain had eaten the surface layer of the wood structure into pulp, but deep inside, it still held the secrets of its own balance. As long as she could find the critical load-bearing nodes, she could reconstruct the logic of the beam framework from before the fire. It would prove that the family hadn’t collapsed due to poor engineering—that the structure had been deliberately tampered with by human hands.

Cold rain ran down the front of her short black work jacket, biting into her bones. In the distance, the hooves of a courier station carriage pounded out a frantic rhythm. Xiaoxue didn’t turn her head. She just clutched the oil-paper wrapped blueprints tightly against her chest. From the mouth of the alley came a sneer, dripping with unearned superiority. Chiyo Matsudaira stood in the dry shelter of the eave, an oil-paper umbrella held at an angle that kept him cloaked in shadow. Two of his hired hands crouched behind him, their expressions a mix of fear and deference.

Chiyo Matsudaira looked Xiaoxue up and down, his tone laced with mockery. “A sprout from the Kitamura Family, picking through the filth of a slum like this? How amusing. I thought the Broken Beam Gate signboard was smashed to pieces long ago by your father. Seems now you can’t even recognize a piece of lumber. What, are you planning to use those muddy hands to fix the roofs of Osaka’s merchants?”

Xiaoxue didn’t stand up. She slowly raised her head, her gaze calm and cold. She wasn’t provoked; instead, she pulled out a chunk of rough black wood and tapped it gently against the stone slab. “Master Matsudaira,” she said, her voice icy. “Your guild’s Canal Transport masts have a break rate of thirty percent. It’s because you use pine from the south instead of local cedar. This material absorbs moisture and swells during the rainy season, so it can’t handle the lateral shear forces.”

“Are you planning to save a few coins and throw half the lives on the ship into the bargain? If the vessel capsizes, I imagine your guild’s reputation will sink to the bottom with it.”

Chiyo Matsudaira’s smile froze, then twisted into something ugly. He hadn’t expected a down-on-his-luck wandering carpenter to understand the properties of Canal Transport timber. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. “Mind your own business. You’re the scum left over from the Kitamura Family. You haven’t even atoned for your ancestors’ sins, and yet you have the nerve to lecture me? Your father stole Kiyoshi Ono’s designs back in the day, which bankrupted his design bureau. That debt? Every single person in the Osaka town knows about it.

If you dare mention the Ono Family here, you’re provoking the entire town council’s bottom line.”

Xiaoxue’s movements stopped; her knuckles cracked. Kiyoshi Ono was indeed investigating this matter, but she wasn’t going to back down. She simply tilted her head, dodging his probing gaze. She stood up, rain dripping from the ends of her hair, a hint of mockery slipping into her tone. “The truth doesn’t rely on reputation. If my father really did steal the drawings, the mechanical structure of the blueprints would have to contain a contradiction that doesn’t add up.

Once I solve the beam diagram, everything becomes clear. As for you, if your ship capsizes, don’t come looking for me to claim compensation. I don’t have the thick skin to take your money. Besides, I fix the bones, while you just protect the skin. We’re not even on the same level.”

Chiyo Matsudaira scoffed, turned on his heel, and dropped a chilling parting shot as he left. “The storm will stop, and the earth’s energy will sink down. Your little agility won’t withstand the settling of an old house’s foundation. If it collapses and buries you, that would actually be a blessing—saves us having to look at you. I will watch every inch of this land, just to see how you struggle for survival in this mudpit.”

Xiaoxue watched him disappear. She knew Chiyo Matsudaira’s words were no lie, but tonight was the only window of opportunity. The drainage ditches of the abandoned old house were filled with rainwater, masking the traces of recent foundation work. It was the only time she could slip into the core area without being inspected. She quickly tucked the black wood into her sleeve and sped toward the old house.

The old house sat on the edge of the town. It had once been the “Shadow Repository” where the Kitamura Family kept their core blueprints, but it had been abandoned for years. Now, eroded by the rain, the foundation leaned at a dangerous angle.

Xiaoxue circled around to the drainage channel on the back of the building, crouching to observe the cracks in the wall. As a rigorously trained architect, she didn’t see ruins and broken walls; she saw skeletons, stress, and balance. The crack extended from the foundation, forming an “X” shape where it intersected under the second-floor floorboards—a classic precursor to shear failure. If she climbed over the wall directly, the unstable masonry would collapse instantly, burying her.

Xiaoxue pulled out a long, thin probe and tested the crack. The depth varied, with a soft surface layer separated from a hard base by a hollow interlayer. That was where the blueprints were hidden.

She adjusted her breathing, used the partially rotten beam column beside her for support, and squeezed her body sideways into the narrow gap. The space was tight, the smell of mold hitting her face, the darkness feeling as if it were filled with watching eyes. She didn’t dare light a lamp, relying on touch and sound to navigate. Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her feet. Her body plummeted, and by instinct, she grabbed the rough crossbeam above. The wooden beam groaned—a sound that made her teeth ache—showering her with splinters.

Xiaoxue’s heart hammered, but her brain stayed cold. She assessed this as a cantilevered structure; the left side was bearing too much weight. If she continued sliding to the right, the interlayer board would snap.

She had to move left. Xiaoxue gritted her teeth, her hands alternating as she felt her way through a web of dust, each step precise, landing on solid wood rather than rotten hollows. Her fingertips touched a cold wooden wall. The unnatural smoothness made her heartbeat spike. Even if an old house was repaired, it was hard to achieve such uniform polishing. She felt something heavy in her hand, wrapped in layers of waterproof oilcloth.

The rainstorm abruptly stopped. Moonlight broke through the tiles and poured into the interlayer, forming a column of惨white light. Xiaoxue unfolded the oilcloth. Inside was a torn blueprint, its edges charred black, but the central ink strokes were startlingly clear. She traced the lines with trembling fingers, realizing this wasn’t a simple architectural sketch. It was an extremely complex Star Chart Beam Framework.

The joints in the diagram weren’t standard Mortise and Tenon interlocks; they were arranged according to the trajectories of celestial bodies. The angle of each beam head corresponded to a Star Position of a specific star in the star chart. This structure defied traditional load-bearing balance principles, yet it was visually perfect.

Xiaoxue rapidly reviewed the logic: Under normal conditions, the structure was stable. But when subjected to specific frequency vibrations (like lightning or earthquakes), the beam framework would disassemble instantly, releasing internal mechanisms. It was a living trap, and it was the core evidence of her family’s wrongful conviction. She remembered her father’s dying delirium: “The stars are turning, the beams will break.”

He had been referring to the critical point during celestial changes. She pressed the blueprint against her chest, the cold seeping through her bones. Below the interlayer, the foundation had shifted slightly due to the torrential rain. The air smelled stronger of sulfur, a signal that the soil quality was beginning to collapse.

As she prepared to return the way she came, a faint sound of metal scraping against wood echoed from above. Xiaoxue held her breath and pressed against the wall. Someone had entered. The footsteps were light, yet they seemed to beat against the heart in the silent night, pacing across the floorboards on the outside of the interlayer, stopping occasionally.

Xiaoxue peeked out and saw Muneyoshi Kitamura standing in the center of the abandoned main hall. He was dressed in the plain white attire of a swordsman, his back to her, holding his unsheathed long sword stiffly like a statue. He was the man she had been promised to in childhood, but whom she couldn’t meet because of the Sword Sect’s laws. Now, he was the sect’s senior disciple.

Muneyoshi Kitamura spoke, his voice hoarse and suppressed, echoing in the empty ruins. “Xiaoxue, why are you still here? Chiyo Matsudaira’s men are already staking out the alley entrance. What do you plan to do with the blueprints? Don’t think I can’t see the reflection of the oilcloth in your hand. It holds something the entire Osaka town doesn’t dare touch.”

Xiaoxue clenched her fists. After a moment of silence, she whispered a retort. “Muneyoshi, your sword is fast, but your heart is confused. You don’t dare defy your master’s orders, yet you dare set a trap here to block me. I don’t need the protection of your scabbard. I only need the truth behind these blueprints. If I take them away, your sect loses its bargaining chip. If you attack, we become mortal enemies.”

Muneyoshi’s voice trembled, revealing the struggle between law and emotion. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping across the dark space and locking onto the crack. He seemed to have known it was there all along. In a deep voice, he said, “Come out. Your breathing is too erratic; you have no chance under a sword. If the sect finds you, I might not be able to save you. I don’t want to see an old comrade turn into a castaway in the jianghu. This is the last kindness I can offer.”

Xiaoxue let out a cold laugh and stepped out. Under the moonlight, she looked pale and gaunt. She looked directly into his eyes, her tone calm. “If you can’t protect me, then forget it. I don’t need protection; I need the truth. Muneyoshi, your sword is fast but your heart is confused. You can’t even defy your sect’s commands, so why set a trap here? Your hesitation has cost you the initiative and turned you into Chiyo’s perfect puppet.”

Muneyoshi’s pupils contracted. He lowered his head to hide his pain, stepped forward, and a sharp, freezing aura washed over her. He murmured, “The sect’s decree states that all Broken Beam Gate relics must be returned within three days, or you’ll be expelled. If I hand over the blueprints, you’ll have no chance of turning your life around. If I don’t, we both die. This is the law of the jianghu. There’s no room for what you or I like.

I stand before you as both the enforcer and the obstacle. You have to accept this fact.”

Desperation flashed in Xiaoxue’s eyes. She pulled out the partial blueprint and extended it, but she didn’t let go. She allowed their fingertips to touch, feeling the conflict in their body heat, and declared firmly, “Half of this map is in your hand, half is in mine. If you want to hand it over, take it from me. If you want to hide it, help me find the other half. Otherwise, this incomplete star chart will remain scrap paper forever.

I know what you’re looking for. Ayano Ono passed you the message, but in reality, you leaked it yourself. You’ve been selling our trust to buy your survival space.”

Muneyoshi’s face changed instantly. He took a sharp step back as if struck in a vulnerable spot. His endurance collapsed, turning into helpless guilt. He gripped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white. He murmured, “The Ono Family are the Station Masters. Their intelligence network covers the entire Osaka town. I... I just wanted to check if you were safe.

Chiyo Matsudaira is using the map to find a path to wealth. He found the underground tunnel beneath the old house. The second set of blueprints is hidden there. Xiaoxue, you can’t escape. The end of the tunnel connects to the guild’s secret chamber. There is no morality there, only profit.”

Xiaoxue’s heart jolted. Chiyo Matsudaira having the tunnel map meant her earlier infiltration had just been a designed drive to force her to reveal where the blueprints were hidden. She quickly pulled the partial blueprint back, stepping back three paces until she was pressed against the swaying crossbeam. She said urgently, “The tunnel entrance is under the foundation of the third pillar, but the structure has aged. It can only support the weight of one person.

If you press down from above, the foundation will collapse, and we’ll both be buried. Muneyoshi, do you trust the load limit I calculated? Right now, your sword intent is too heavy. It will crush the last balance.”

Muneyoshi was silent. The air felt frozen. He looked into Xiaoxue’s eyes, seeing the sharp confidence of a craftsman who trusts structure absolutely. Finally, he sighed, loosened his grip on the sword, and sheathed it. His posture relaxed, looking exhausted. “You always use calculation to fight destiny. Fine. I’ll make this bet. If the beam framework is as fragile as you say, I won’t stop you from escaping. But remember, the world outside these ruins is colder than the ruins.

Chiyo won’t let you go. And I... I may have to betray you to save my own skin.”

Xiaoxue nodded, turned, and squeezed back into the gap with decisive movement. She had to use the time Muneyoshi bought her to slip through the dangerous tunnel before Chiyo Matsudaira’s men arrived. The moment she fell, there was a huge crash above. Muneyoshi seemed to have deliberately crushed the cover board to block the pursuers. Cold dirt and wood chips fell into her collar. She coughed violently but dared not stop moving.

Deep in the tunnel, the air circulation was poor. Xiaoxue moved by touch. Her hand hit a cold stone wall. Her finger traced a rough scratch, fresh and new, with traces of recently broken wooden fibers still visible. Her heart clenched. She stopped and held the faint phosphorus fire near the edge of the partial blueprint in her hand. There was a deep tear there, cutting off the beam head structure corresponding to the Tan Sou Star in the star chart.

The crack wasn’t old wear and tear. It was caused by a sharp object. The edge was clean, with clear burrs.

Xiaoxue traced the crack with trembling fingers. An uneasy thought flashed through her mind: This map wasn’t just a hundred-year-old relic. She whispered to the darkness, her voice hoarse with fear. “If the crack is fresh, someone took the other half recently... In a hundred years, who else has this key besides the family? This cut is too deep. It feels like an ancient curse, devouring my sanity and direction.”

The phosphorus fire flickered, illuminating the missing Star Position on the blueprint. It looked like it was mocking her ignorance, or guiding her into an even deeper abyss. Xiaoxue tightly wrapped the partial blueprint and disappeared into the endless darkness, leaving only that torn mark, like an unhealed wound, stretched between life and death.