Chapter 3: Bai Shouzhuo Lays a Trap

Shen Zhiyan intercepted the shop clerk just as he was about to slip away. She tapped her fingertip lightly against his chest. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it carried an undeniable aura of intimidation, her eyes as cold as ice frozen deep in a well during the heart of winter.

"Go back and tell Zhao Si Ye: having a blade pointed at someone doesn't mean he can actually stab a hole through them."

The clerk shrank back, his neck pulling into his shoulders as if stung by that cold chill. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around, his fingers gripping the hem of his apron so tight his knuckles turned white. "Miss... Zhao Si Ye said that tomorrow, you won't be able to go anywhere."

The corner of Shen Zhiyan's mouth curved into a smile so sweet it was cloying. Her finger pressed just a fraction harder, her nail digging into the fabric of his shirt, yet her voice remained ice-cold enough to make a man's teeth chatter. "Can't go anywhere? I'm going to show him exactly what 'surviving against all odds' looks like."

Before the last word had even left her lips, a chaotic burst of footsteps echoed from the alley entrance, accompanied by rough, barking commands and the harsh screech of iron chains dragging across the bluestone pavement.

Bai Shouzhuo led a group of Storytellers' Guild members in a grand, intimidating procession, blocking the doorway completely. Each of them wore long shirts and held folding fans that half-concealed their faces, failing to hide the malicious glint in their eyes.

The next morning, before the sky had fully brightened, the morning mist curling through the alleys, Bai Shouzhuo stood before the teahouse where Shen Zhiyan was temporarily staying, leaning on his cane with a look of profound pity on his face. His complexion was grayer than the mist, looking like a martyr for his cause, gazing at Shen Zhiyan as if she were a fallen soul in desperate need of salvation.

"Miss Shen, for a woman to take the stage is a disgrace to decency. How could the Guild tolerate such conduct?"

Shen Zhiyan calmly adjusted her sleeve cuffs, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. She replied in a flat, dismissive tone: "Black on white paper. The contract is right here. If you break the terms, the penalty is triple."

Bai Shouzhuo let out a cold snort and slammed his cane against the ground with a heavy thud, vibrating the floor slightly. "Contract? Is the Guild's integrity something you can buy with money?"

Several young storytellers flanking him looked murderous, reaching out to tear down the signboard. Their nails scraped across the painted wood, producing a sound so grating it set Shen Zhiyan's teeth on edge.

Just then, Lu Yanzhou’s figure appeared at the alley mouth. His Court of Judicial Review uniform looked particularly solemn in the morning light, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd like a tangible blade.

"Guild Master Bai, confiscation must follow the law. I am securing the scene for now, but the order has arrived. I cannot make any exceptions."

Bai Shouzhuo didn't even dare to look directly at the official. He gritted his teeth, waving his men back, his mouth twitching as he issued a final, deadly order: "By sundown, if she hasn't moved out, the Guild will no longer offer any protection."

Lu Yanzhou frowned, as if wanting to say something more, but ultimately just sighed, turned, and walked away, his coat tails stirring a chill wind.

Shen Zhiyan didn't waste a second. She took Ah He and moved them overnight to a remote, abandoned underground wine cellar in South City.

The place was cold, damp, and reeked of mold. The ground was slippery with moss-covered slates. It had been a wine cellar, now converted into a Storytelling Venue. It was terrifyingly quiet, the only sound the echo of dripping water reverberating in the empty space.

Ah He, trembling, lit a candle. The flickering flame illuminated the mottled earthen walls, where the plaster was peeling away to reveal the dark soil blocks underneath.

"Miss, this place is so dark even a rat would turn around. Who’s going to come listen to the story?" Ah He’s voice was shaking.

Shen Zhiyan patted her shoulder and forced a smile, though her eyes were silent as death. "As long as someone listens, it’s a venue. Ah He, prepare the tea."

Sparse footsteps sounded outside. The once lively end of the alley was now quiet, with only three or five unfamiliar faces standing at the dim entrance, hesitating and unwilling to step inside.

Shen Zhiyan took the stage. She slapped the Arousal Block, deliberately projecting her voice to fill the oppressive space. The echo bounced off the cave-like walls, sounding unusually sharp and lonely.

"So, it is said that within the Capital City, hidden dragons and tigers abound, but speaking of that Bone Verification and Injustice..."

In the audience, someone yawned. Others whispered, their eyes wandering, clearly unimpressed.

The Color Sound gathered in Shen Zhiyan’s mind, thin as dust, barely enough to light the lone lamp in the Story Pavilion. The light was weak, like a candle struggling in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.

The wick of the *Bone Verification and Injustice Record* trembled in the darkness, on the verge of extinguishing.

She spoke until her throat was dry and her tongue felt rough, yet she received no resonance. The coldness of being ignored was more piercing than the cellar's moisture, crawling up her bones from the inside out.

Just as she was about to lower her energy, a soft noise came from the corner.

Lu Yanzhou had sat in the least noticeable corner at some point. His figure was hidden in the shadows, his gaze fixed on her, the jumping firelight reflected in those deep, unreadable eyes.

He was the only audience member. No applause, no disturbance, yet he gave her a sliver of light in this hopeless situation, like a lighthouse in the dark.

Shen Zhiyan’s heart skipped a beat. Her voice steadied involuntarily, and she added more delicate descriptions to her storytelling, her fingertips tapping the Arousal Block with a more rhythmic, stable beat.

Even if there was only one listener, she would tell the story well. It was her dignity, and it was what kept her alive.

Ah He walked by carrying tea, her hands shaking so badly that the cup nearly slipped. Water splashed onto the slates, soaking into the cracks instantly.

"Miss, word has come from outside. The Guild’s next round of inspections will seal the entrances to all unlicensed Storytelling Venues."

Shen Zhiyan took the teacup, her fingertips cold. Alarm bells rang in her head, and the steam from the tea blurred her vision.

"Seal? That would make us the frogs in the pot, wouldn't it?"

"Yes... they say it’s to clean up the scene. They’re afraid our 'wild methods' will disrupt the order," Ah He whispered, her eyes wide with fear as she looked at the drafty, crumbling walls, as if they might collapse at any moment.

Shen Zhiyan set down the cup and glanced at the swaying beam overhead, her brow furrowed. The paint on the beam had long since flaked off, revealing the rotten wood grain, looking shocking under the candlelight.

Just telling stories wouldn't break the deadlock anymore. She had to find a structural support point to reinforce this crumbling wine cellar.

She tried to light the *Bone Verification and Injustice Record* in the Story Pavilion in her mind, but found the lamp dim to the point of being terrifying.

With no audience resonance, the Color Sound was scarce, the wick was about to die, and the hope of unlocking it was nearly extinguished.

Anxiously, she pushed her willpower, but all she got was a sharp pain. Her mind felt like tangled mess, buzzing with static.

"If this lamp goes out now, I’m just sitting here waiting to die."

She took a deep breath, trying to dig for mechanical knowledge from ancient texts in her memory, but her mind was a blur. All that remained were fragments from the *Bone Verification and Injustice Record* about skeletal structure and load distribution. Perhaps that could solve this immediate crisis.

But without enough Color Sound to light it up, all her efforts would be in vain.

Lu Yanzhou remained silent in the corner, just listening, as if waiting for something. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, the rhythm slow but firm.

Suddenly, Lu Yanzhou, rarely speaking, opened his mouth. His voice was clear and cold, cutting through the cellar’s stuffiness, carrying the ring of metal striking stone.

"Miss Shen, the 'bone' you described has uneven stress distribution. The left load-bearing wall already has cracks. The arc of the beam is unbalanced."

Shen Zhiyan looked up sharply, a flash of surprise in her eyes, her hand frozen in mid-air.

"Your Honor observes very closely."

"If it isn't reinforced immediately, danger will arise within three days."

Lu Yanzhou stood up, brushed the dust from his coat with an elegant, efficient motion, lingered for no reason, turned, and disappeared into the deep darkness, leaving only a gust of wind behind.

Shen Zhiyan gripped the Arousal Block, sweat seeping into her palms until the wooden handle was slippery and hard to hold.

She understood: only by mastering the mechanical principles in the script could she resolve this collapse crisis.

Time was running out.

A sharp, cracking sound suddenly came from above, as if something was breaking at its limit. Dust rained down, landing on Ah He’s shoulder.

In the Story Pavilion, that lone lamp flickered violently in the darkness, the light and shadow jumping wildly, casting distorted shadows of people on the walls.

Shen Zhiyan stared fixedly at the beam column that was about to shatter. Fear in her eyes was replaced by cold resolve. She slowly tightened her grip on the Arousal Block, her knuckles turning white.

In this dead end, she looked toward the corner again. It was empty, but that cold gaze seemed to linger, like a brand on her skin.

This predicament had only just begun.

The crack spread faster than expected. The massive wooden beam in the depths of the cellar groaned with a creak that hurt the ears, like the death rattle of a giant beast. Shen Zhiyan didn’t hesitate for a moment. She grabbed the oil-stained copy of the *Bone Verification and Injustice Record* from the table and, using the last bit of faint candlelight, quickly flipped to the "Load-Bearing Structure" section. The book stated that if the main beam was damaged, one had to find the "air eye" on the diagonal corner, wedge a short wooden peg into it, and transfer the force using momentum. Her gaze was like a blade, searching through the dim cellar for the corners swallowed by shadow. Her fingertips were trembling so violently she could barely hold the pages, and every second that passed came with the sound of falling dust, the pressure suffocating like a tide.

"Ah He, go get bricks. Hurry!" Shen Zhiyan shouted, her voice cold and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Little Ah He’s legs were so weak she could barely stand. Shen Zhiyan grabbed her by the back of her collar, and they stumbled toward the wall. Just then, the flame of that lone lamp jumped and went out completely. Darkness instantly swallowed all sight, leaving only the sound of heartbeats pounding like drums in her chest. Shen Zhiyan closed her eyes, and Lu Yanzhou’s earlier words—"uneven stress distribution"—floated in her mind. The left load-bearing wall he had pointed out was exactly the most dangerous spot described in the book. Relying on her sense of direction, she groped blindly with her hands, her fingertips touching cold brick and stone. With no light, she could only use hearing and touch to distinguish the direction of the brick gaps and cracks in the chaos.

"Don't move. Listen to me," she murmured, soothing the terrified Ah He. Then, she slammed a pre-prepared short wooden peg hard into the designated node.

*Click.*

A crisp sound of wood friction rang out, followed by a deathly silence. That swaying main beam overhead seemed to finally stop its terrifying groaning. Shen Zhiyan gasped for air, sweat sliding down her cheek and dripping onto the muddy floor, soaking into a dark patch instantly. She slumped against the cold wall, and the hope that had just ignited in her heart was half-extinguished by the cruelty of reality again. The collapse was paused, but the cellar’s structure was like rotten wood, ready to collapse again at any moment. The latter half of the *Bone Verification and Injustice Record* described how to completely reconstruct the foundation, but it was trapped in a yellowed page stuck in the middle. For some reason, that page would not come out of the book no matter what.

Just then, that cold voice came from the darkness again, devoid of warmth, yet terrifyingly clear.

"Miss Shen, you fixed the shell, but you forgot the heart."

Shen Zhiyan’s body went rigid. She slowly raised her head. Using the faint daylight from afar, she saw that Lu Yanzhou had not left. He was leaning against the stone pillar at the cellar entrance, his eyes deep as an abyss, the corner of his mouth curved into a faint, enigmatic arc, as if he had already seen through everything. He held something new in his hand: a neatly folded, yellowed piece of paper, glowing with an eerie white light in the dimness.

"If you want to truly escape this, these few rotten wooden beams won't cut it." He gently tossed the paper toward Shen Zhiyan. "But can you even get your hands on this?"

Shen Zhiyan reached out to catch it. The moment her fingertip touched the edge of the paper, a bone-chilling cold shot up her arm to the top of her head. She snatched the paper and unfolded it. It was not the rescue method she had imagined, but the three large characters: "CONFISCATION ORDER." The signature bore Bai Shouzhuo’s cold, official seal.

It wasn't a lifeline. It was a death warrant.