Upon the閣樓’s floor, where once stood tables and chairs, lay telltale marks. These were not mere stains, but the lamentations of timber long burdened, now exposed by the breached outer seal, a seal whose forgotten grace once warded off the creeping dust.

Having circumambulated the阁樓, 王林’s keen eyes discerned a tale.

Firstly, three souls had preceded him into this sanctum. Though, he conceded, perhaps others before him had found only ruins, their treasures claimed by earlier hands.

Of these three, the master of the Plum Blossom Eighteen Edicts was the first. Arrogant, it seemed, he scorned all but the rarest finds, for 王林 saw the shattered remains of his intricate seals near any place that might have held a treasure of great worth.

After this haughty soul came two others, their methods crude and brutish. The very table and chairs, it seemed, were stolen by one of these.

This judgement rested upon the traces 王林 now examined upon the floor.

Tiny slivers of wood, unseen by casual eyes, lay amidst the dust.

Kneeling, 王林 pinched a fragment between his fingers, studying it closely.

“Forcibly breached,” he murmured, “the table and chairs suffered for the thief’s impatience.” With a flick of his wrist, he cast the wood aside, and with a whisper of robes, stepped through the閣樓’s rear door.

Beyond lay a long迴廊, its sides crafted from the very essence of仙玉, forming a balustrade above a dried-up pond.

Here, too, were the remnants of broken seals, and upon the pond’s barren surface, 王林 discovered the distinctive pattern of the Plum Blossom Eighteen Edicts, once more.

He trod carefully upon the迴廊, his gaze darting about, noting the fractured围栏, snapped in many places by those who had passed before.

The further he walked, the fewer the remaining wards. After some ten leagues, the迴廊 ended, splitting into three separate paths.

At this crossroads, 王林 paused, studying each way with meticulous care. He sought to discern the path taken by the master of the Plum Blossom Eighteen Edicts, for such was his skill with seals, no treasure would remain for those who followed in his wake.

That one was a discerning thief, plucking only the finest blooms. The two who followed were mere raiders, seizing all they could, yet leaving behind, in their clumsy haste, the occasional prize beyond their reach.

After much scrutiny, 王林 ventured a few strides down each path, then returned to the center. His decision made, he strode purposefully down the path to the right.

A hundred yards brought him into a scene of broken wards, shattered remnants of enchantments crudely torn asunder. In some places, the seals were but half-broken, abandoned in frustration.

Whenever he encountered these half-finished wards, 王林 would halt, studying them with an intensity born of patience. He pressed on, however, resisting the urge to mend them, preferring to observe and learn.

This rightward path was flanked by more围栏, yet beyond them lay not a pond, but a grove of bamboo.

With cautious steps, 王林 proceeded, until, with a sudden stillness, he froze, his right foot hovering above the ground. Immobile, he stood, yet within his eyes, the runes of warding danced and flickered.

Ten paces hence stood a厅榭, within which, around a circular stone table, sat four stone stools. Upon the table rested a wine pot and several cups.

王林’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze swept the surroundings with renewed vigilance. Within ten paces of the厅榭, the wards were unbroken, pristine, untouched by any trespasser.

“The wine within that pot must be potent indeed,” he muttered. “I have followed the path of shattered wards, yet here, those who forced their way through have faltered.” After a moment of contemplation, he retreated a few steps, his rune-etched eyes studying the scene with even greater intensity. A frown deepened upon his brow.

“I see it now. Within this厅榭 lies a labyrinth of ten thousand shifting wards. To tread within its ten-pace radius without deciphering every nuance is to invite disaster. Even brute force would fail against such a defense, save for those of the highest mastery.”

“Furthermore, this厅榭 sits at the nexus of all the wards in this area, such that to touch one is to awaken all. Hence, those who came before, ages past, wisely chose to turn away.”

“Such intricate artifice, though, would yield to the master of the Plum Blossom Eighteen Edicts, given time. Therefore, I have chosen correctly. This way lies untouched treasure!” A thrill of excitement ran through 王林, for he had wandered through this洞府, finding naught but the picked-over bones of past glories, like entering a mine already stripped of its riches.

But now, he believed, the厅榭 was a new mountain of wealth.

Suppressing his eagerness, 王林 stilled his mind and began to study the layers of wards surrounding the structure.

The seals around the厅榭 were like an intricate, almost invisible web, impossible for ordinary eyes to detect. But to those skilled in such arts, each nuance spoke volumes, offering clues to the puzzle within.

The first step to breaching these wards was observation.

Three days 王林 sat there, his eyes gradually laced with fine threads of red, weariness etched upon his face.

“I can only glimpse three thousand of the myriad shifts,” he mused. “I am still far from unraveling the tapestry of warding. And yet, the wards lie dormant now, their full potential hidden.” He paused, then, with a sudden movement, his right hand flicked forward, unleashing a single thread of仙力 toward the厅榭.

Even as the thread of energy sped forth, he recoiled with astonishing speed, leaving a mere afterimage in his wake.

No sooner had the thread of仙力 crossed the ten-pace threshold than it shattered, exploding into a shower of sparkling motes. At the same time, as if a drop of water had fallen into a vat of hot oil, a wave of volatile energy erupted from within the circle, a testament to the power held in check by the intricate wards.
A single stone cast into a still pond unleashed a thousand surging ripples. A maddening aura, thick with violent power, erupted from within a ten-foot radius like a raging tide, threatening to engulf all in its path. Were it not for Wang Lin’s foresight, its incredible speed would have surely overwhelmed him.

Retreating a hundred feet, Wang Lin finally halted, his gaze never leaving the forbidden shimmer surrounding the hall. Now, his eyes burned with intense light.

“The instantaneous shifts within that barrier… no fewer than ten thousand!” Wang Lin murmured, after a long moment of contemplation. He then settled into a cross-legged position, resolving to continue his deductions.

Time flowed like an unending river, and a month slipped by unnoticed.

During this moon’s turn, Wang Lin had attempted, on numerous occasions, to provoke the barrier with his Celestial Qi, seeking to discern its intricate transformations. Each trial brought him a harvest of knowledge, gradually unveiling the greater part of the changes around the hall’s exterior within his mind.

Simultaneously, his calculations never ceased, his eyes now bloodshot, as if on the verge of weeping crimson tears.

For a month, Wang Lin had forgotten everything. He even forgot that he was within another’s secluded haven, the sole focus of his existence being the unraveling of this forbidden array!

The more he studied, the deeper he delved into his calculations, the more profound his revelations became. This array held a universe within, its countless variations leading to a deeper understanding beneath his scrutiny.

Wang Lin’s knowledge of forbidden arts came from the ancient lands of the Gods. He had learned the ancient ways, then stumbled upon a trove of arcane texts within the subterranean caverns of Vermillion Bird Star’s plains. These, combined with centuries of relentless experimentation and assimilation, had resulted in a rather eclectic yet potent mastery of forbidden lore. As the number of his crafted forbidden banners reached nine hundred and ninety-nine, his skills had struck an unseen barrier.

All who study the forbidden arts will encounter many such limitations in their lives. Should they fail to overcome them, their research would come to a halt. These barriers are unseen, yet born from countless factors.

This month’s research brought Wang Lin a surge of insight. The myriad changes within the hall’s barrier opened a new passage before him, and unknowingly, he shattered that hindering wall. Before him now lay a clear, straight road!

He now possessed a forty percent certainty of breaking the array. Though seemingly small, one must consider that even those who studied forbidden arts for a thousand years would, at most, have only a ten to twenty percent chance against this particular hall’s barrier.

Only those ancient monsters, whose vast experience and knowledge were unparalleled, would dare claim a certainty beyond forty percent!

“Perhaps one who excels in the Eighteen Prunus Locks might have a seventy percent chance…”

Wang Lin pondered for a long time, making no rash moves, but continuing his calculations.

Another month passed, and Wang Lin, though he had not fully mastered every nuance of the forbidden array, now possessed a fifty percent confidence in breaking it!

On this day, he rose with a calm demeanor, though his eyes were bloodshot, his spirit was as keen as could be. He moved, and in an instant, stood ten feet from the hall. His eyes shone with calculations as he took his first step forward!

This first step bore no trace of nervousness within Wang Lin. He was utterly certain that no complications would arise, that he would not trigger the forbidden array!

He stepped forward, and the surroundings remained unchanged. Wang Lin’s expression was unchanged, and he stepped again, and again!

Nine steps, covering three feet, each one executed as if he had rehearsed them countless times. He moved with ease, as if strolling through his own garden, betraying no hint of unease.

Halting after the ninth step, Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with forbidden runes. He looked up at the hall seven feet ahead, pinched his fingers together, and performed silent calculations for a long moment, before stepping forward once more.

Once again, nine steps! He had now covered six feet!

Though the distance was small, Wang Lin had poured his entire being into it, his mind spent two months calculating. Even thousand-year-old monsters would hesitate before daring to cross those six feet so easily!