City Lord

Chen Guan set the coffin on the ground, ready for a fight.

The coffin touched the ground.

Thud.

The lanky man’s gaze dropped to the coffin, and his body tensed instinctively.

"Sir, the City Lord said your coffin cannot be opened inside the city."

Chen Guan looked at him. "Does your City Lord know who I am?"

The lanky man didn’t answer.

Behind him, the Bone Collectors fell silent as well.

Chen Guan caught this shift. This robed man’s identity was more special than he had thought.

The lanky man hesitated for a moment, then forced out: "The City Lord said you are a lost man."

Chen Guan said, "And?"

The lanky man gritted his teeth. "Also someone who cannot stay here too long."

The child grabbed Chen Guan’s sleeve.

That frightened him more than the Bone Collectors trying to take him away.

Was he going to be alone again?

"Teacher, are you leaving?"

Chen Guan looked down at him.

The child’s hand was small, but his grip was tight.

In that moment, the image from the cave painting—snowfields and all—merged with the present.

At the doorway, he had once grabbed the other’s sleeve just like this.

Chen Guan didn’t pull his sleeve free. He reassured him, "I’m not leaving now."

The child’s hand loosened a little, then quickly tightened again, as if afraid the words would be scattered by the wind.

The lanky man’s face turned extremely sour.

"Then please come with me to see the City Lord."

He raised his hand and waved.

Behind him, six Bone Collectors fanned out at once—iron hooks, bone knives, and short spears pressing in from all directions.

Guan Jinyue moved forward.

Her sword flashed swiftly.

She couldn’t use her spatial abilities, but her weakening didn’t make others stronger—her reflexes were still far too fast for them.

The first Bone Collector’s bone knife was only halfway raised when his wrist was smashed open by the flat of her blade.

The second’s short spear stabbed halfway before its shaft snapped with a crack.

The third tried to circle around to the child, but Chen Guan kicked him squarely in the knee, sending him crashing to his knees in the sand.

He couldn’t read the writing of this era, but he knew a thing or two about fighting.

Chen Guan didn’t draw his scythe. He didn’t want to completely break the rules of this memory.

But the Bone Collectors played dirty.

One of them threw powder from his sleeve—gray-white dust scattering in the wind.

The child caught a whiff, his face instantly turning pale, his body wobbling.

Chen Guan grabbed him by the back of his collar and tossed him to Guan Jinyue. She caught the child, her longsword spinning in front of her to block the powder.

Chen Guan raised his hand.

A faint glimmer from his storage ring, and a scrap of iron appeared in his palm.

He casually hurled the junk.

It hit the powder-thrower square on the nose. The man fell backward, powder smearing across his own face, his eyes rolling back—a taste of his own medicine.

The lanky man watched, his face tightening.

He had thought this robed man, suppressed by the gate marks, was just an old-fashioned scholar who could read. But now this "sir" was far too practiced at fighting.

And this woman—though suppressed—was still frighteningly strong.

Chen Guan picked up a broken iron hook from the ground and walked toward the lanky man.

The lanky man stumbled backward, the bone talisman at his waist clattering wildly.

"You can’t kill me. I’m the City Lord’s man."

Chen Guan said, "I’m not killing you."

Before the lanky man could relax, Chen Guan pressed the half hook onto his shoulder.

"Lead the way."

The lanky man’s face changed.

"To see the City Lord?"

"Right."

"Sir, you will regret this."

Chen Guan looked at him. "Then I’ll kill you and let you regret it in hell."

Guan Jinyue approached with the child in her arms.

The child had recovered a little, though his face was still greenish, and he still clutched the short wooden stick.

He whispered, "Teacher, the City Lord lives at the Bone Well."

Chen Guan asked, "Have you been there?"

The child shook his head.

"The people taken there never come back."

Guan Jinyue set him down.

Once steady, the child first felt for the half-piece of flatbread in his chest pocket.

It was still there.

He carefully tucked it away again.

Chen Guan saw this gesture, his gaze lingering for a moment. He sighed.

The lanky man was forced to walk ahead, the broken hook pressing against his bone talisman, silencing it.

Beyond the cracks in the doors along the street, people watched them secretly.

No one opened their doors.

No one spoke.

Only a very old woman, through a window slit, tossed a small black object to the roadside.

The child saw it. It looked like a piece of dried meat.

He paused for a moment. From inside the house, a muffled voice came.

"Seven-Button Kid, run fast, don’t look back."

The child pursed his lips. He didn’t pick it up, but Chen Guan picked up the dried meat and pressed it into the child’s hand.

The child froze. "Teacher?"

"Eat it on the way."

The child lowered his head, staring at the dried meat in his hand. His eyes were red.

He quickly bowed his head, hiding it.

Guan Jinyue glanced at Chen Guan. His face remained expressionless.

There were good people among the masses.

A realization dawned on him, recalling the remnants of an oath in the circular hall.

A promise carved into the rules—still existing even after the oath maker and witnesses had died.

This...

Was a scene from the past. Perhaps this robed man had made a promise to this child here, in this very place.

And he—Chen Guan—had somehow triggered it all, thrown back into that old scene, taking on the identity of that robed man to live through it.

He wanted to meet this City Lord. Even knowing it was all false, all in the past, beyond his power to change—he still had to go.

Guan Jinyue scanned their surroundings and said softly, "This city’s formations are all connected."

Chen Guan hummed in acknowledgment.

Hearing this, the lanky man’s shoulder twitched, but he quickly pretended he hadn’t heard anything.

Inside, he was screaming: Who the hell is this woman?

The child spoke quietly, "Teacher once said that every door in this city leads to the Bone Well."

Chen Guan looked ahead. "I said that?"

The child nodded, thinking Chen Guan was testing his lessons. "Teacher also said the Bone Well isn’t really a well—it’s a door."

A door? Chen Guan thought of what Yue Teng had said—could images of the past be connected to the future?

Beside him, Guan Jinyue slowed her steps.

She looked at the clearing opening up ahead. A well reflected in her dark pupils.

Its mouth was enormous, nothing like a place meant for drawing water.

It stood in the center of the old city, ring upon ring of bones stacked high—human bones on the outside, animal bones within—and countless shapeless bone fragments ground flat into plaques, wedged between the crevices.

Twelve wooden stakes stood around the well, each hung with bone chimes. When the wind blew, the chimes tinkled softly.

Behind the well was a low stone platform.

An old man sat on the platform.

He wore a dark brown robe, his hair sparse, skin clinging tightly to his bones. In his hands, he held a bone bowl.

There was no water in the bowl—only half a bowl of fine bone dust.

When he lifted his eyes, everyone kneeling nearby lowered their heads.

The lanky man walked to the stone platform and immediately dropped to his knees.

"City Lord, the Sir broke the rules and wounded the Bone Collection team."

The old man didn’t look at him.

His gaze fell on Chen Guan, impossible to read. "You’re back."

These words made the child lift his head, tense with anxiety.

Chen Guan stood before the Bone Well, his sleeves hanging, covering the ring on his finger.

He didn’t rush to reply.

The old man set the bone bowl on his knee, his chapped fingers tracing along its rim before he paused, disappointment settling into his expression.