A thousand years ago, following the establishment of the Seven Houses, the Mohists constructed a mechanical marvel known as the Mirage Tower.
The Mirage Tower did not exist within the Three Realms; instead, it was situated in an extra-dimensional void. It served as a secret vault, housing the vast treasures and legacies accumulated by the Seven Houses over generations.
*The Mirage hovers as if upon the sea; the bird’s path vanishes amidst the clouds.*
“‘Shen,’ written with the radical for insect and the phonetic for dawn, refers to a pheasant that enters the sea and transforms into a monster—a legendary sea creature,” Zhu Yinxiao explained. “The reason the Mirage Tower’s existence is so elusive is that it isn't built on solid ground at all. The Mohists built it upon the back of a giant Shen.”
An Ping followed the group out of Yeshui Zhuhua. The scene outside the restaurant had transformed completely. It was no longer the pre-dawn West City Street, but a lotus-shaped platform. Beyond the platform lay a long bridge, connecting to a nine-story tower in the distance.
It was a realm of shifting dimensions—a colossal Shen monster carried a towering structure on its back, cruising through a starry void. When An Ping looked up, he realized that a vast ocean hung above their heads.
The sky was the water, and the water was the sky; they flowed into one another in an endless cycle. Silver fish transformed into stars as they cascaded down the firmament, while clouds surged upward like white-capped waves.
Since the lineage of the Lingshuzi had been severed, no one from the Medicine House had entered the Mirage Tower for years. A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
“A bunch of hicks,” Wu Biyou grunted, his pipe clenched between his teeth. He flicked a spark into a bronze lamp. As the flame caught, Mu Gesheng took the lamp and stepped onto the long bridge.
“Though the Mirage Tower belongs to all Seven Houses and anyone may enter, the crossing must be led by a Sage,” Zhu Yinxiao said, nudging An Ping behind Chai Shuxin. “Follow my brother across. Yanyan and the others haven't been here before, so I’ll go lead the way for them.”
An Ping watched Mu Gesheng’s silhouette. He walked at the very front, holding the single lamp.
As they progressed, lamps along the side of the bridge flickered to life one by one—bean-shaped bronze lamps, handled bronze platters, goose-foot tripods, the Palace Lantern of Eternal Fidelity… the craftsmanship evolved from primitive antiquity to exquisite complexity as the lights were ignited in succession.
Chai Shuxin said softly, “Each lamp represents an era, a dynasty.”
An Ping was stunned. Looking closer at the designs, he realized they truly were artifacts from different periods of history.
By then, Mu Gesheng had reached the end. Behind him, the long bridge glowed with radiant light. He blew out his lamp, and the tower before them surged with brilliance, its flying eaves and bracket sets shimmering with splendor.
A silver carp leaped over the bridgehead, and the great doors groaned open.
With Chai Shuxin leading and Zhu Yinxiao bringing up the rear, the group filed into the Mirage Tower. The interior was hollow, rising to a gilded, polychromatic caisson ceiling. The patterns were layered one inside the other, and at the very center hung an inverted *sinan*—an ancient compass. Its ladle-shaped handle pointed downward, rotating slowly against the magnetic plate.
They were currently on the first floor. There were no walls, only intricately carved screens. Each screen was mounted on a central wooden axis, allowing it to spin in place or be bypassed from either side. An Ping tried pushing a few; the screens were layered like concentric circles. They seemed to be standing at the heart of a thousand paths. How were they supposed to navigate?
“Look at the compass above,” Wu Biyou said from the side. “The first floor is a maze. These screens move, but no matter where you stand, the compass will always be directly overhead.”
He pointed toward the heights. “Only the Sages know how to read the compass. Just follow the Rakshasa.”
“Don’t you know the way?” An Ping asked.
“The first floor has seven doors, each leading to the different legacies of the houses,” Wu Biyou muttered around his pipe. “Each house has its own path. I only know the way to the Yin-Yang House. To enter the Medicine House’s door, you need the Lingshuzi to lead the way.”
He added, “Or you have to be from the Heavenly Calculation lineage and calculate it using Mountain Ghost coins.”
An Ping asked, “Since the Mohists built the tower, do they know the way?”
“No idea. The previous Mozi was long dead by the time I was born,” Wu Biyou said. “There aren't any Mohists left anyway.”
Chai Shuxin paused and glanced back.
The boy immediately corrected himself. “My mistake.” He then fell silent.
The group walked for an unknown amount of time. The endless screens stretched into a magnificent, deep corridor. The air was thick with an ancient, inexplicable scent—reminiscent of sandalwood and aged bamboo slips. White mist rose from the pipe, trailing long, thin lines through the air.
It felt as though someone had knocked and entered, a breeze stirring the beaded curtains.
An Ping suddenly noticed the screens were changing. The carvings were no longer mere patterns; text and images began to appear. Chai Shuxin was walking fast, and An Ping couldn't make out the stories. He whispered to Wu Biyou, “What’s written on the screens?”
Wu Biyou didn't speak. Instead, he pulled out his phone and typed: *This means we’re close to the Medicine House. Within a hundred paces of every door, there are Heritage Screens. They record the lineage of that specific house.*
He looked down and typed a few more lines: *But only Sages are worthy of being recorded on the Heritage Screens. The Medicine House’s line was severed after the Rakshasa’s generation. That woman Chai Yanyan definitely isn't on there.*
He ended the message with a haughty cat emoji and several lines of arrogant laughter.
An Ping looked at the expressionless Wu Biyou, then at the colorful inner monologue on the phone. *What do you even call this? Gap moe?*
Mu Gesheng’s voice drifted from the front. “We’re here.”
The screens ended, and the view opened up into a large hall. There were two doors, one on the left and one on the right, with two white-faced, painted-mask automatons standing guard.
Mu Gesheng placed a Mountain Ghost coin into the slot on each automaton’s forehead. With the sound of grinding gears, the two puppets actually began to move. They bowed to the crowd with practiced grace, then clapped their hands. Both doors slid open.
An Ping stared in disbelief. Inside the doors were elevators—vintage models with golden hand-cranks, retractable gates, wooden walls, and green-shaded bronze lamps.
The Mirage Tower was built a thousand years ago, yet it had elevators?
“During the wars, Old Second brought me here to stay for a while,” Zhu Yinxiao stepped forward and patted An Ping’s shoulder. “He had nothing better to do, so he renovated the whole tower inside and out. He installed this elevator while he was at it.”
Chai Shuxin stood before the group and said calmly, “The Mirage Tower has nine floors. The interior has been prepared in advance. On each floor, there are ten Medicine Puppets. Only after all ten are cured can you ascend to the next level. Whichever side reaches the ninth floor first shall be the winner.”
“The tower will automatically judge the victor. The winner will become the next Lingshuzi and may enter the top floor.”
Zhu Yinxiao whispered an explanation to An Ping: “Medicine Puppets are mechanical automatons, similar to acupuncture bronze figures but more intelligent. Each puppet is afflicted with a specific ailment. They were originally designed for Medicine House disciples to practice their skills. After Old Second passed away, the craft was lost. I doubt the main branch of the Chai family has many in their collection.”
An Ping stole a glance at Chai Yanyan. She looked composed, wearing white silk gloves and carrying a small medical case.
“Each side may send one candidate up the tower,” Chai Shuxin surveyed the room. “The rest shall wait here.”
Chai Yanyan and Chai Puti stepped forward and bowed to Chai Shuxin. Chai Shuxin glanced at Chai Yanyan. “There is no need for the medical case. The tower is equipped with all necessary instruments.”
Chai Yanyan nodded and handed her case to the butler behind her. She stepped into the elevator, followed by the two mechanical puppets. “The automatons will keep time and lead the way. You may stay on each floor for a maximum of four hours,” Chai Shuxin said. “In case of emergency, they can be used for communication.”
Chai Puti suddenly spoke up. “Is there no judge on each floor? How will our progress be evaluated?”
Chai Shuxin replied, “You will know once you are up there.”
As he finished speaking, the mechanical puppets turned the cranks. The gates slid shut, and the elevators began to rise, eventually vanishing from sight. Two massive hourglasses rose from the floor of the shafts, taking the place of the elevator cars.
Chai Shuxin looked at Zhu Yinxiao. “I’ll leave the rest to you.” Then he looked at Mu Gesheng. “Come with me.”
Wu Biyou barked, “Wait, where are you two going?”
Mu Gesheng, who had been standing to the side with his arms crossed, smiled. “To a place for adults, obviously. No smoking, no minors allowed.”
“Dammit!” Wu Biyou started to curse, but Zhu Yinxiao immediately grabbed his head and turned it away. “Alright, alright, big brother will show you something fun.”
He turned to the crowd and waved his hand. “Audience members, please turn around. We are about to begin the live broadcast.”
An Ping turned around and realized the row of screens behind them had vanished, along with the entrance they had just used. All the screens had flipped over; their backs were solid bronze mirrors. Joined together, they formed a massive wall of mirrors.
Even more surreal was the "live broadcast" Zhu Yinxiao had mentioned. The mirrors didn't show the reflections of the people in the room; instead, they displayed every move of Chai Puti and Chai Yanyan.
Wu Biyou stared, stunned. After a long moment, he managed, “…That’s brutal.”
An Ping nodded in agreement. In the mirror, Chai Puti had lost all of her usual elegance. Her face and hands were covered in blood, and her expression was grim. Not far from her lay a person—or rather, one of the Medicine Puppets Chai Shuxin had mentioned—though it looked more like a corpse.
Chai Yanyan’s situation was even more intense. The young lady was running around barefoot, having used her stockings as bandages.
This wasn't a live broadcast; it was a live execution.
An Ping observed the crowd. Many were whispering, their expressions varied. It was this intense right from the start; it seemed the challenges Chai Shuxin had set were truly difficult.
“The Rakshasa said the time limit for the first floor is four hours, and they have eight more floors to go,” An Ping said to Zhu Yinxiao. “Are we going to wait here for three days and nights?”
“The Mirage Tower is not within the Three Realms. The things you learned in compulsory education don't apply here,” Zhu Yinxiao said. “Time flows differently on each floor. In the time we’ve been chatting, nearly an hour has already passed for Yanyan and the others.”
“Furthermore, the Mirage Tower can stop a person’s time. In other words, you won't feel fatigue or hunger, nor will you age,” Zhu Yinxiao lowered his voice. “If one were to live here forever, they could, in a sense, achieve immortality.”
He smiled. “Back then, Old Second and I lived here for three years. I didn't eat a single bite of food for three years. I was starving for a real meal.”
An Ping asked, “Does anyone from the Seven Houses live here permanently?”
“As far as I know, no. At least not from the Zhu family,” Zhu Yinxiao shook his head. “The original intent of the Seven Houses in building the Mirage Tower was to provide a refuge, not a place to hide from the world.”
“A mirage on the sea, a flower in a mirror—in the end, one cannot stay forever.”
***
Mu Gesheng followed Chai Shuxin up a flight of stairs. “Where are we going?”
Chai Shuxin paused slightly. “You don’t know?”
“My Mountain Ghost coins are incomplete. I can only calculate the paths for the bottom five floors,” Mu Gesheng said. “But you seem to be heading toward the top.”
Chai Shuxin had pulled him behind a screen earlier, revealing a long, winding staircase that spiraled upward to a great height.
Mu Gesheng had only been to the Mirage Tower once, many years ago, when he had just joined the Heavenly Calculation sect and the Master of the Ginkgo Pavilion had brought him for a tour. He wasn't familiar with many of the internal structures or secret passages. He truly didn't know where Chai Shuxin was going, and the other man hadn't mentioned it beforehand.
The words he’d said to Wu Biyou were just nonsense. He couldn't help it; teasing the kid was just too much fun.
“The Mirage Tower is like a prayer wheel—layers upon layers of complex mechanisms,” Chai Shuxin said. “Every floor rotates, and the paths within are constantly shifting. Aside from the fixed passages used by the Sages, no path remains the same. To pass through, one must rely on the Mountain Ghost coins in your hand.”
“Then we’re doomed,” Mu Gesheng said. “I don’t know the way for the top four floors.”
Chai Shuxin turned to look at him. “The heirlooms of the Seven Houses belong to the Sages. When a lineage is severed, the tokens resonate with the tower and eventually return here automatically.”
This came out of nowhere. Mu Gesheng blinked. “And?”
Chai Shuxin pulled back his coat, revealing the Shihong Blade. “I wasn't present when the Mozi passed away. I retrieved this blade from the Mirage Tower later.”
“Not bad, Sanjiutian.” Mu Gesheng gave him a thumbs-up. “I didn't know about that. Stealing Old Second’s stuff—you’ve got guts.”
“…I wasn't finished,” Chai Shuxin said. “Taking without permission is stealing. The Mozi said before he died that he would gift the Shihong Blade to me. You can ask the Xingxiuzi.”
Mu Gesheng sighed. “Fine, that’s less fun.”
“In addition to the blade, the Mozi told me the way in and out of the tower,” Chai Shuxin said as they walked. “This staircase is a shortcut he built himself. It leads directly to the top floor.”
“Wait, wait,” Mu Gesheng interrupted. “The reason for the competition was that the tower has restrictions—no one but the Lingshuzi themselves can retrieve items from the upper floors. That’s why you set up this trial for Yanyan and Director Chai. Since you can already get up there, why didn't you just take it? Why go through all this trouble?”
He gave a knowing smile. “Hmm?”
“You know why,” Chai Shuxin said helplessly. “This is the only way to silence the underworld.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“…They are, after all, the children my sister adopted. They haven't been home for years; it’s only right to look after them a bit.”
“There you go.” Mu Gesheng stepped up two stairs and patted his shoulder. “Even though I know you’re favoring Yanyan, some things still need to be said aloud. Feelings are meant to be expressed.”
Chai Shuxin turned and continued upward. “I have one thing to refute.”
“What’s that?”
“Stealing the Mozi’s things—you did plenty of that back in the day.”
Mu Gesheng: “…”
Chai Shuxin suddenly stopped. The stairs ended abruptly, blocked by a mural. The paint was mottled and peeling, depicting a red-haired, green-eyed demon.
Mu Gesheng peeked over Chai Shuxin’s shoulder. “A Rakshasa painting? Your predecessor sure was an eyesore.”
Chai Shuxin didn't respond. He bit his finger and dabbed two drops of blood onto the Rakshasa’s eyes. The mural cracked open, revealing a tunnel.
“It’s pitch black. It looks like a time tunnel,” Mu Gesheng remarked. “Did Old Second watch *Doraemon* when he was building this place?”
Chai Shuxin: “…Given the Xingxiuzi’s age at the time, it’s not impossible.”
***
**Glossary**
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 蜃楼 | Mirage Tower | A legendary mechanical tower built by the Mohists. |
| 蜃 | Shen | A mythical sea monster, often a giant clam or dragon, capable of creating mirages. |
| 藻井 | Caisson ceiling | An architectural feature in traditional Chinese buildings, often highly decorated. |
| 司南 | Sinan | An ancient Chinese magnetic compass, often shaped like a ladle. |
| 药儡 | Medicine Puppets | Mechanical automatons used by the Medicine House for medical training. |
| 舐红刀 | Shihong Blade | "Blood-Licking Blade," a weapon belonging to the Mohist leader. |
| 罗刹图 | Rakshasa painting | A mural depicting a Rakshasa (a type of demon/spirit). |
| 星宿子 | Xingxiuzi | The title for the Sage of the Star House (likely referring to the previous one). |
| 诸子 | Sages | The leaders/heads of the Seven Houses. |
| 家传屏 | Heritage Screens | Screens that record the history and lineage of a specific House. |
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