Echoes of the Hollow Domain

The Grand Mirror Hall of Lingyuan

was meant for divine decrees.

Each light beam that shimmered from its mirrors

carried law and order

to the farthest edges of the realm.

But today —

it bore something else.

Not a command from the gods.

But a challenge.

The Five Orders and Eight Sects

had signed it together.

The Keybearer Accountability Writ.

Seals pressed into jade:

Taijing Sect.

Miaoji Tower.

Kuliansi.

Nanhuang Sect.

Taixu Dao.

And the Eight Sects:

Yunxiu.

Tianshu Palace.

Lingfu Pavilion.

Yugu Hall.

…

The message was short.

But sharp.

"The name Shen Jin was never examined.

The awakening of the stele,

untried by law.

We call for a tribunal.

Let the name be questioned.

Let Lingyuan comply.

Surrender the bearer.

Restrain the mark."

The words

spread like fire.

Across the realm,

spirit mirrors echoed.

Names whispered through stone.

Reflected in water.

The Keybearer

was no longer just a secret name

in the vaults of the East.

He was a symbol.

A storm.

In the private chamber beneath the mirror hall,

Qi Ming Heng sat.

Calm.

Still.

His eyes traced each line

of the glowing script.

Around him —

lawkeepers waited.

Some murmured.

Some lowered their eyes.

But he only watched.

Then —

"So even 'Keybearer'

now fits inside a writ of blame."

His voice was soft.

He set his fan aside.

And touched the mirror.

The light vanished.

He gave no command.

Made no decree.

"We wait.

Let's see how

the bearer answers."

Elsewhere —

in a quiet mirror chamber —

Luo Qinghan watched a different reflection.

The name.

The mark.

Still faintly red.

"They've moved."

She whispered.

But in her heart,

she knew —

This wasn't just about Shen Jin.

It was about whether Lingyuan

still held the right

to say what a Keybearer was.

—

The vault remained sealed.

Shen Jin sat unmoving on the stone slab,

his hand resting upon the mark,

as though listening for something

deeper than sound.

Then —

a shift.

A ripple in the spellwork.

Someone had entered.

He wore gray robes without symbol,

his face unadorned,

his sleeves marked only

by a single silver tag:

Seal of Inquiry.

A silent envoy of Lingyuan.

One who answered only

to law and necessity.

He stepped before Shen Jin.

His voice calm —

ritualistic.

"Shen Jin.

Once a Scrivener.

Now the Keybearer.

The stele stirs.

Your dreams unravel.

I am here by law.

To ask three questions."

Shen Jin said nothing.

His gaze held steady.

"First:

Are you still a man?

Or merely the shell

of the mark?"

The mark pulsed.

Faintly.

"Second:

Do you control it?

Or does it control you?"

Something moved in the air.

A ripple of intent —

quiet, but real.

"Third—"

The question dropped like iron.

"Will you

relinquish the title

for the sake of order?"

The room did not echo.

But it remembered.

This was no inquiry.

This was a removal

by other means.

Shen Jin stood.

One step.

Then another.

Until he stood

just a breath from the agent.

His voice soft:

"You're not here to ask.

You're here to take."

He lifted his palm —

the stele's mark faintly glowing —

"But I won't give.

You want obedience.

But the stele chose me."

Silence.

The agent didn't respond.

Only said:

"Then you have answered."

He vanished.

Gone without wind.

Shen Jin sat once more.

Closed his eyes.

And from the mark —

a whisper,

low and dark:

"Good."

—

The seal had barely lifted.

Shen Jin stood,

still hollow with strain.

Outside the ward,

Luo Qinghan waited beneath the faded glow of the chamber lights.

She looked calm.

But her eyes were tired.

Her robes slightly askew.

The scroll in her hand trembling,

just a little.

Qi Ming Heng had let her pass.

"If you truly believe

your words are worth that much —

go."

The veil opened.

A narrow breath of space.

She stepped in.

But did not move closer.

She stood

just outside the boundary of his quiet.

Shen Jin looked at her.

No anger.

No warmth.

As if seeing her for the first time

all over again.

She took a breath.

"Will you fight them, then —

to the end?"

No answer.

Only silence.

Deliberate.

Then:

"Did you come to ask me

to yield?"

"No," she said.

"I came to tell you…

if you are truly the Keybearer,

I will prove it."

He blinked.

Once.

Then said:

"You don't want to prove me.

You want to prove

your idea of me."

She froze.

He stepped forward.

Just one step.

"You say you trust me.

But you're only trying

to prove yourself right.

You've never trusted me.

Only the version of me

you recorded in your scrolls."

She flinched.

But said nothing.

He turned.

The stele lit behind him.

Dim.

Faint.

But final.

The veil closed.

And she was left alone.

Outside the seal.

Whispering:

"But I wasn't wrong…"

—

Night fell heavy

over the vault.

Not a whisper stirred.

The room held its breath

like a grave long sealed.

Shen Jin sat alone.

The mark in his hand flickered

with a heartbeat that wasn't his.

He closed his eyes.

And the dream took him.

Not a dream born of seals.

But of the stele itself.

A consciousness

awakening from within.

He fell.

Into a chasm of memory.

Of script.

Of sealed names.

All around him —

fragments.

Runes etched in ash.

Dreams of others,

collapsed into layers

of silence.

And in the middle of it —

A figure.

Clad in the ceremonial robes

of Keybearers past.

Standing before

a half-open gate of stone.

Behind it —

Lock Abyss.

Death coiled like mist.

Bones formed the threshold.

The figure turned.

Unseen face.

One phrase:

"The sin of gods

must not pass."

And then —

he stepped into the gate.

His body burned.

Shen Jin reached for him —

but the stele pulled back.

Dragged him down.

And now —

a voice.

From inside the mark.

From somewhere deeper.

"Abandon the past,

and the vessel is yours.

Do you still wish

to be called Shen Jin?"

A mirror.

A second face.

His.

But not.

Colder.

Hollow.

He screamed.

Broke the dream.

Bit through his tongue.

The taste of blood

brought him back.

The mark flared.

Alive.

He roared —

and the seals shattered.

All three.

Wards cracked.

Sigils broke.

Chains undone.

Light spilled outward in rings.

The guards outside staggered.

Too slow.

Too late.

At the heart of the ruin —

Shen Jin stood.

Wrapped in the flickering glow

of the stele's power.

His voice was hoarse.

But every word

carried weight:

"The Keybearer

you tried to cage —

has walked out."