Old Scars of the Fall

Lu Chenzhou did not leave the castle immediately.

He stood at the end of the third-floor corridor, looking up at the sealed skylight. Moonlight seeped through the gaps in the glass, casting a long, slanted beam of light on the floor. He crouched down, his fingertips brushing gently along the edge of the light, as if identifying some kind of trace.

Shen Zhixia floated two steps behind him, watching his movements cautiously.

She didn't quite understand what he was looking at. There was nothing on the floor—not even dust, since the film crew had already cleaned it up. But Lu Chenzhou's fingers stopped at a certain spot, paused briefly, then slowly moved to another.

"What are you looking for?" Shen Zhixia couldn't help asking.

Lu Chenzhou didn't answer. He simply pulled a thin talisman paper from his pocket, held it by the corner between his fingers, and gently pressed it against the floor. The moment the talisman paper touched the ground, a faint golden halo spread across its surface, rippling outward like water.

Where the halo swept past, a blurry dark red mark emerged on the floor.

Shen Zhixia was stunned.

It was the outline of a human figure, limbs splayed out, like someone who had fallen from a height and crashed to the ground. But the edges of the outline were broken and intermittent—some parts were clear, while others seemed to have been forcibly erased by something, leaving only scattered fragments.

"This is..." Her voice trembled slightly.

"A soul imprint." Lu Chenzhou retrieved the talisman paper and stood up. "The mark left behind when a spirit dies."

Shen Zhixia stared at the dark red outline, and suddenly a sharp pain shot through her mind. She saw herself falling from a great height, the wind howling in her ears, her body weightless, limbs flailing helplessly in the air—

Then the cold, hard ground.

She jerked back a step, nearly hitting the wall.

Lu Chenzhou turned his head to look at her, his eyes calm. "What did you see?"

"I..." Shen Zhixia opened her mouth but found she couldn't speak.

She only remembered the sensation of falling, and the excruciating pain at the moment of impact. But the finer details were blocked by a layer of fog, impossible to recall. She tried to remember, but her mind could only produce fragmented images: a chill, a nearby shadow, and a sudden pulling sensation on her wrist.

"I... I fell," she said quietly. "But I don't remember why I fell."

Lu Chenzhou said nothing. He crouched down again, his fingers once more nearing the soul imprint. His movements were slow, as if carefully examining every broken trace.

"Look here." He pointed at the right wrist of the outline. "The soul imprint is broken."

Shen Zhixia leaned in closer and saw that the dark red mark suddenly stopped at the wrist, as if it had been cut off by something. Could it be that I didn't fall properly? she thought instinctively. Is that why the mark looks so strange?

"A normal falling soul imprint wouldn't look like this." Lu Chenzhou's voice was soft but carried a calm, analytical certainty. "If it were an accidental fall, the soul imprint would be complete, leaving a连贯痕迹 from the trajectory of the fall to the landing posture. But your soul imprint has three distinct breaks—at the wrist, the shoulder, and the waist."

He paused, looking up at her. "This means that during your fall, some external force interfered with your spirit body."

Shen Zhixia's mind went blank.

"External force?" She repeated the word, her voice drifting. "What external force?"

Lu Chenzhou didn't answer immediately. He stood up, walked beneath the skylight, and looked up at the sealed glass. Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the glass, casting a shadow across his face.

"Someone touched you while you were falling," he said. "Or rather, someone pushed you."

Shen Zhixia stopped breathing.

She stared at Lu Chenzhou's back, and the fragmented images in her mind suddenly became a little clearer. She remembered—before she fell, something had grabbed her wrist. There was an icy touch, and then a sudden, forceful shove.

She tried to see that person's face, but her vision was blurry, and she could only make out a nearby shadow.

"I... I was pushed down?"

Lu Chenzhou turned around and looked at her. His gaze was very calm, but carried an undeniable certainty. "You didn't die by accident."

Shen Zhixia stood frozen in place.

The blurry images in her mind surged up like a tide—the fall, the chill, the nearby shadow, the pulling sensation on her wrist—and then a voice, very, very soft, as if it had whispered something in her ear, but she couldn't make it out.

"I don't remember." She clutched the hem of her skirt.

Lu Chenzhou didn't press further. He simply took out another talisman paper from his pocket, held it by the corner between his fingers, and gave it a gentle flick. The talisman paper ignited into a small cluster of golden flames in the air, then turned into a wisp of smoke that slowly drifted toward the skylight.

The wisp of smoke circled in the air once before stopping at a spot directly beneath the skylight, as if pulled by something.

Lu Chenzhou stared at that wisp of smoke, his eyes darkening slightly. "There are traces of old arts here."

"Old arts?" Shen Zhixia didn't quite understand the term.

"Traces left behind by supernatural means." Lu Chenzhou withdrew his gaze and looked at her. "Someone used术法 to deal with this place after you died."

"Why would they do that?"

"To erase the evidence that you were pushed." Lu Chenzhou's voice was very calm. "To make everyone believe you died from an accidental fall."

Shen Zhixia felt as if something had seized her heart.

Lu Chenzhou looked at her but didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds, then slowly moved away, landing back on the soul imprint.

"It will be investigated," he said.

Shen Zhixia bit her lip and looked down at the dark red outline on the floor. Those fragmented images couldn't be pieced together—all she could see were blurry shadows and voices she couldn't make out.

Lu Chenzhou put away the talisman paper and turned toward the stairwell.

Shen Zhixia was taken aback and quickly floated after him. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah." Lu Chenzhou didn't stop walking. "The crew has scenes to shoot tomorrow."

Shen Zhixia floated behind him, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of her skirt.

When Lu Chenzhou reached the stairwell, he suddenly stopped. He turned his head to look at her. "Do you want to leave the castle?"

Shen Zhixia was stunned.

She stared at Lu Chenzhou, and a thought suddenly flashed through her mind: if she could leave the castle, could she find out how she died?

"I..." She opened her mouth but found she didn't know how to answer.

Lu Chenzhou looked at her, his eyes calm. "You're a bound spirit, trapped in this castle. If you want to leave, you need to resolve the obsession that binds you."

Shen Zhixia looked down at her hands, her fingertips trembling slightly.

"I want to leave."

Lu Chenzhou didn't reply. He simply turned around and continued down the stairs.

Shen Zhixia followed behind him. The fragmented images in her mind surged up like a tide—the sensation of falling, the pulling on her wrist, and that nearby shadow.

Lu Chenzhou reached the first-floor hall and stopped at the entrance. He raised a hand and pressed his brow, as if confirming something, then turned his head to look at Shen Zhixia. "There are other traces of old arts in the castle. I need to reconfirm the scope."

Shen Zhixia was startled. "There are more?"

"Yeah." Lu Chenzhou's gaze fell toward the sealed stairwell direction. "The resentment behind that door isn't yours, but it's connected to your death."

Shen Zhixia's fingertips tightened slightly.

Lu Chenzhou didn't say anything more. He simply turned around and looked out at the night.

Shen Zhixia floated to his side and followed his gaze.

Outside the castle, several crew vehicles were parked, their headlights still on. A few staff members were moving equipment. The distant streetlights cast a pale glow over the night, like a road leading to the outside world.

Shen Zhixia stared at that road, her body unconsciously leaning forward a little.

She turned to look at Lu Chenzhou. "Can I go out?"

Lu Chenzhou didn't answer right away. He simply looked at her, his gaze calm but carrying an undeniable certainty.

"There will be a way," he said.

Shen Zhixia bit her lip and said nothing more.

She looked down at her feet and saw that she was standing just inside the castle threshold, only one step away from the outside. But she didn't dare to step out, unsure of what would happen if she did.

Lu Chenzhou turned and left.

Shen Zhixia stood at the entrance, watching his figure disappear into the night.

"Not an accidental death..."

"Someone pushed you."

Lu Chenzhou's words were like a key, suddenly prying open the numbness and confusion she had carried for ten years. So it wasn't that she had been careless, not fate—she had been murdered.

That icy touch, that sudden force, that blurry shadow... The truth was out there!

An unprecedented, urgent impulse seized her. She had to get out. She had to find out the truth!

Shen Zhixia hesitated no longer. Toward that nightscape symbolizing freedom and truth, she took her first step in ten years. The moment her toes crossed the threshold, a formless, tremendous force slammed into her from the doorframe! It was as if she had crashed into an invisible wall—she was sent flying backward, landing with a loud thud on the floor inside the door. The edges of her spirit body flickered violently, nearly on the verge of collapsing.

The castle's binding had never been so clear and cruel. She was utterly and completely trapped inside this prison that buried both her and the truth.