The girl leaned back, waving her hand lazily.
"Careful, Master Lou Gao, if anyone were to see that expression, your venerable reputation would tumble straight into the gutter."
*Cough* *Cough*.
Lou Gao cleared his throat hastily, his face flushed with embarrassment. He straightened his back, struggling to mask the hunger in his eyes with stern dignity.
"What… what must I do to obtain that book?"
Qian Renxue's purple eyes sparkled mischievously.
She leaned forward, her voice lowering to a whisper, every word dripping with temptation.
"Then I shall also be direct. Join my organization… and work for me."
Before Lou Gao could even part his lips to object, Qian Renxue added softly, her voice like a feather brushing against his thoughts,
"I won't let you do anything that will be against your conscience."
Her words were gentle, but Lou Gao felt the strange weight behind them, as though she wasn't simply speaking, she was declaring, something his heart couldn't easily reject.
Lou Gao's hardened face, weathered by years of hammering metal and enduring political pressures, softened slightly. He let out a heavy breath before breaking into a broad smile.
"Even for the sake of sharing these ground-breaking theories on blacksmithing, I am willing to join you."
But his eyes sharpened again as he measured her with the caution of a craftsman judging a rare ore.
"However…" He leaned forward, the firelight reflecting off his sweat-lined brow. "…I have come to understand that you are a person of at least good morals, Young Master...."
Qian Renxue in disguise, smiled faintly, resting her cheek against her palm with a playful glimmer in her purple eyes.
"Julia. My name is Julia."
She tossed something across the table. Lou Gao instinctively caught it with his calloused hands.
The object was cold, heavier than it appeared.
It was a token, carved of obsidian-like metal and edged with dusk-silver patterns that shimmered faintly under the lamplight. Roughly palm-sized and circular, its surface was layered with intricate engravings.
At the center, a twelve-pointed star radiated outward from a hooded eye sigil, half-shut, eternal in its watchfulness, its violet hue faintly pulsing as though alive.
"This token," Julia said softly, her voice echoing strangely in the small office, "is the symbol of our organization—the Twilight Hermit Order."
Lou Gao repeated the name under his breath, savoring it as if testing the balance of a new forging hammer.
"Twilight Hermit Order…"
But soon, his sharp eyes narrowed, drawn to the flaws of the token itself. He rubbed the edge with his thumb, frowned, then muttered,
"The one who forged this… was a novice. The mixture is crude—black iron with traces of silver. The craftsmanship is inelegant, rushed. This would barely last under high heat."
Qian Renxue's lips curved upward. She wasn't offended in the least. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her golden hair falling like silk as her purple eyes locked onto him.
"Then," she interrupted smoothly, "why don't you make some tokens yourself? Tokens of true worth—spirit-forged metals, imbued with your legacy. That can be considered your first task after joining our order."
Lou Gao froze, the girl's words weren't a request. His blood stirred at the thought. Spirit-forged tokens… a symbol only he could perfect. The pride of a blacksmith swelled in him.
But when he raised his gaze again, his pupils dilated. Those purple eyes across the desk seemed bottomless, as though an entire cosmos swirled within them.
Qian Renxue clapped her hands.
Clap!
The sharp sound resonated unnaturally, reverberating through the room. Lou Gao's vision distorted, his office, the decorations on the wall, all twisted into bubbles, popping one after another, until only emptiness remained.
He felt his body stagger as though sucked into a vortex. His consciousness sank into darkness.
The last thing he saw before blacking out was that childlike figure sitting calmly, her small hands folded in her lap, watching him with a knowing smile.
----
Light slowly seeped into the corners of his vision as Lou Gao stirred awake. His back ached from the wooden chair, and his eyes were heavy as if he had been dragged through molten iron.
He rubbed at his temples, groaning.
"Ugh… Was I dreaming? Why would I have such a strange dream?"
Fragments lingered—the image of a doll-like girl with golden hair, purple eyes, and that smile that seemed to peel away all pretense. He frowned deeply.
"Julia…? Why would I dream of someone I've never even seen before?"
He shook his head, convincing himself with the stubbornness of a craftsman who had worked sleepless nights.
"Must be the rum. Five bottles last night… ha, I should've known better. A hangover hallucination, nothing more."
But just as he reached for his tea flask, his hand froze midair.
His breath hitched.
There, on the table, lay a thin notebook and the token.
The notebook was bound in rough leather, still carrying the faint warmth of another's hand. The token sat beside it, its twelve-pointed star and hooded eye sigil etched in quiet defiance against the world. The silver patterns gleamed faintly as though reacting to his presence.
A chill spread down Lou Gao's spine.
For a moment, he could swear the hooded eye was staring back at him. Not merely like an engraving.
His calloused hands trembled slightly. The great Divine Blacksmith, who could face flames hotter than lava and wield hammers heavier than mountains, now felt the weight of something immeasurable pressing upon his chest.
"What kind of… organization have I joined?"he whispered, voice dry, eyes darting around as if afraid the walls themselves might overhear.
The silence in the room deepened, unnaturally still, broken only by the faint rustling of paper.
As his fingers brushed the notebook, and he felt a strange pulse of warmth, gentle and guiding