Life in the Archive was not glamorous.
It was better.
Every morning, before the sun burned the clouds off the peaks, Xiao‑lan swept the pavilion's entrance, careful not to bump the ancient turtle shell that served as Wei's footrest. Dust rose, shimmering faintly with qi residue from centuries of cultivators carrying manuals in and out.
Then she carried bundles of scrolls up and down the stairs, muscles complaining, Spirit‑Sea throbbing.
In return, Elder Wei fed her leftovers from the kitchen hall and lessons from a dead art.
"Again," he said, tapping the paper.
Her first worksheet was simple: basic characters. Not for "sword" or "kill," but "name," "promise," "if," "until."
"Your strokes wobble," he said. "A wobbly line makes a wobbly rule. Firm, but not stiff. Like holding a snake just behind the head."
She thought of her knots.
Of Jiang's oath headache.
Of Ren Hui's hesitant compliance.
Her hand steadied.
Ink flowed more smoothly.
[Skill: Calligraphy (Sect Script)] – Lv.1.
Small boost to success of written Name‑Bindings.
At night, in the servants' dormitory—a plain long room with rows of pallets—she lay awake, repeating Oath‑Tide lines silently.
"Where speech and intent diverge, there the knot may be placed.
Where will and law diverge, there the knot may break."
Other servants snored around her.
One, a plump girl named Ruo, rolled over and muttered, "Stop mumbling charms in your sleep or the bedbugs will learn them."
"Sorry," Xiao‑lan whispered.
"Teach them 'don't bite me' next," Ruo grumbled, then started snoring again.
By day, sword‑cheers echoed from distant training yards.
By night, the rustle of pages turned and the scratch of Wei's brush formed her new music.
Her System adapted.
Daily Tasks (Adjusted):
– Sweep Archive (Physical +1)
– Copy 1 page without error (Calligraphy +1, Oath‑Tide Comprehension +1%)
– Practice qi‑breathing for Name‑Weaving (Name‑Weaving EXP +3)
"It's like being back in Baba's shrine," she thought once, pausing in mid‑stroke. "Only with more dust and fewer goats."
And better manuals, the System pointed out.
She conceded the point.
She saw Jun occasionally.
The herb gardens sprawled along a sunnier terrace, overflowing with plants that glowed faintly with Wood qi. Jun's job was mostly hauling water buckets and occasionally being scolded by Elder Mo for over‑ or under‑watering rare roots.
He delighted in telling her about spirit‑radishes and qi‑infused cabbages.
"It's like the market back home, if everything was too bright," he said once, face glowing. "Some of the plants bite."
"Lovely," she replied. "Remind me not to nap there."
Jiang, on the other hand, was swallowed by Flame Peak.
Outer disciples trained hard; Xiao‑lan rarely saw him except as a blue shape on distant platforms, swinging practice swords until his arms shook.
Fei strutted in their group like a rooster, but even he bore new bruises.
"Sword elders beat arrogance out of us with wooden blades," Ruo said cheerfully over soup. "You're lucky; Wei only beats you with words."
"He also throws ink sticks," Xiao‑lan said, rubbing a small bruise on her shoulder from a recent near‑miss.
Ruo laughed.
Tension, as always, came when paths crossed.
It happened in the third week.
Xiao‑lan was carrying a stack of copied manuals to the Law Hall—a wing connected to the Archive by a covered walkway—when raised voices met her.
"I said this herb batch meets quota!" a familiar voice protested.
Jun.
"And I said it doesn't," a sharper, older voice replied. "If we present such rubbish to Elder Mo, he'll trim our stipends."
Xiao‑lan rounded the corner.
A young man—perhaps eighteen, outer robe marked with the stripe of a third‑rank outer disciple—stood over Jun, a basket of withered leaves at his feet. His jaw was sharp, his eyes cold.
[SCAN: DISCIPLE LI KAI]
Realm: Qi‑Gathering (6th Layer)
Status: Outer Disciple – Herb Hall
Personality: Petty / Status‑Conscious.
Jun held out calloused hands. "I picked exactly as instructed," he said. "We had too little rain; the leaves are smaller."
Li Kai sneered. "Excuses. The merchant from Stonepath paid full price. You want to ruin my record, village brat?"
"I don't—"
The older disciple stepped on Jun's basket, crushing some leaves.
Jun flinched.
"Next time," Li Kai said, voice low, "you will double pick. Or maybe I tell Elder Mo you've been slacking. Maybe he sends you back to your little mud hut."
Jun's shoulders hunched.
"I…" he began.
Rage burned in Xiao‑lan's chest.
The hunger fragment in her knot twitched, eager.
Devouring Impulse Detected.
Suggestion: Channel through controlled Oath, not raw.
She stepped forward.
"It's not his fault if the rain was stingy," she said. "Will you make the clouds sign a contract too?"
Li Kai turned, annoyed.
"And you are?" he asked sharply.
"Archive sweeper," she said. "Occasional oath‑gnat."
He blinked.
"What?"
"Lin Xiao‑lan," Jun whispered. "She's…strange."
Li Kai's lip curled.
"Archive," he said disdainfully. "Of course. Little rat with ink on fingers. Go back to your dust. This is sect business."
She raised her brows.
"Threatening a servant over weather is sect business?" she asked. "Your Law Hall must be very bored."
His eyes narrowed.
"Careful," he said. "Words have weight here."
"Exactly," she said softly.
The Oath‑Tide Sutra stirred.
So did the Borrowed Blade Clause, half‑understood.
She did not dare bind a powerful disciple recklessly; backlash would crush her.
But a small clause…for a single trade…
"System," she thought, "idea. I want him to treat this deal fairly. Just this one. Not barging into his life forever. Can I tether his profit to Jun's?"
Shared Breath's cousin: [Shared Profit Pact], the System replied. At current comprehension, can link minor fortune between two parties for a single transaction. If one cheats grossly, both lose.
"Perfect," she thought.
She stepped closer, ignoring Jun's warning hiss.
"Disciple Li," she said, voice polite, "you seem very worried about Elder Mo's opinion. You must care for your record."
"Of course," he snapped.
"Then you wouldn't want a poor batch to reflect badly on you," she said. "Or for the merchant to complain."
"I—"
"Let's make it clear, then," she pressed. "You sign off that this batch is acceptable given weather. Jun promises to work extra on the next. If Elder Mo rejects it this time, you both take responsibility."
Jun choked.
"What—"
Li Kai scoffed. "As if Elder Mo would punish me the same as him."
Fear flickered behind the arrogance.
He did care.
"If you're so sure," she said, eyes intent, "why hesitate? Say it twice. Once for me, once for the air: 'If Elder Mo finds this batch unacceptable, responsibility is shared. If he accepts, credit is shared.'"
Jun stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
Li Kai bristled.
"Who are you to dictate sect matters?" he demanded.
"An ink rat who hates seeing people kicked for nothing," she said calmly. "You can always say no. In which case…" She tilted her head. "…I might mention to Law Hall that you trampled evidence before presenting it."
A flicker of genuine alarm.
Law cultivators did care about such things.
He glared.
"You're bluffing," he said.
"Maybe," she replied. "Maybe not. But if you're so confident, why not tie our breaths? For this basket."
She felt his indecision.
Pride.
Fear.
Desire to look strong.
He spat to the side.
"Fine," he snarled. "If Elder Mo rejects this batch, responsibility is shared. If he accepts, credit is shared."
He said it once, angry.
"You heard me?" she asked.
"Yes," she said softly. "Say it again. For the herbs."
He rolled his eyes skyward.
"Twice," he snapped. "If Elder Mo rejects this, we both take blame. If he accepts, we both get praise."
Now, she thought.
She grabbed the spoken loop.
Twined it with Jun's shaky hope.
Bound them both with Shared Profit.
[Shared Breath Pact Variant – Shared Fortune] Applied.
Targets: Li Kai / Jun.
Scope: Evaluation of current herb batch.
Feedback: Minor loss of reputation/stipend equally shared on failure.
Her Spirit‑Sea twinged.
Li Kai's brow furrowed.
"What did you just—"
"Nothing," she said lightly. "Just words. You believe in words, don't you?"
He snorted.
"We'll see," he muttered, shouldering the basket. "If I get in trouble because of some archive brat's superstitions, I'll—"
He didn't finish the threat.
He stomped away.
Jun sagged.
"You're insane," he whispered. "If Elder Mo does reject it, he'll hate me more."
"If he rejects it fairly, you'll both get smacked equally," she said. "If he accepts it, you both gain. Either way, no more trampling baskets without thinking."
He groaned.
"Why does everything with you involve headaches?" he asked.
She shrugged.
"Better than broken bones," she replied.
Later that day, as she dusted the third‑floor shelves, she felt a faint tug on the new knot.
Not dramatic.
A small ripple.
Shared Fortune Outcome:
– Elder Mo accepted batch with reservations.
– Mild praise given to both Jun and Li Kai.
– Future expectations increased for both.
Jun's joy washed faintly through her.
Li Kai's reluctant satisfaction, too.
Neither realized their fates had been yoked for that moment.
Her own headache subsided quickly.
Wei appeared at the top of the stairs.
"I felt that," he said without preamble.
She froze.
He hobbled closer, eyes sharp.
"You tied an oath in our sect grounds," he said. "Carelessly, but cleverly. On whom?"
She swallowed.
"Herb disciple," she admitted. "He was bullying Jun."
Wei snorted.
"Good," he said. "Herb Hall brats are the worst. Next time, though, come tell me first. Law Hall twitches when someone else plays with their strings."
He flicked her forehead lightly.
"Also, do not bind someone without thinking through all paths," he added. "Today, good. Tomorrow, you might trip a bigger domino. Understood?"
She rubbed her head.
"Yes, Elder," she said.
He grunted.
"Good," he repeated. "Back to dust."
As he turned, he added almost casually, "Law Hall already sniffed once when the Awakening Stone cracked. You make too much noise, they'll lock you in for study. I am selfish; I prefer my apprentices free enough to fetch tea."
Her System flashed a small warning.
Law Fluctuation Recorded.
Sensitivity Level: Mild.
Current Risk: Manageable.
She blew dust off a high shelf.
"Noted," she muttered.