Master of Strange Dao

On a table in the Health Club where Yu Ziqing stayed, a faint spirit light flashed and then vanished.

At the western border of Daqian, a poor family living on the edge of the frontier was relocating their entire household.

A wrinkled elder, about to take one last look at the bare walls of his house, saw a faint spirit light appear on an old, worn table.

The spirit light lingered long after it appeared, and only when the elder approached the table and touched it did the light slowly dissipate.

The elder examined the wooden table—it was aged, with a patina formed over many years. Faint traces of ink stains permeated the surface, and the carvings on the waist were blurred beyond recognition.

Convinced that he hadn't been mistaken, the elder hesitated momentarily before calling for his son.

"Take this table along. When I was young, I used this table to learn how to write. Though I didn't learn much, at least it holds some sentimental value."

The person who entered hesitated but said nothing, as they hardly took any large items with them, and seeing the elder's expression, no one dared to refuse.

The table was loaded onto a cart and followed along with the convoy.

The journey ahead to the nearest city of Dadui would likely take ten days or even half a month.

However, once they reached Dadui, safety would be assured.

The border had become increasingly unsafe lately. Many cultivators dared not venture recklessly into Dadui, allowing less savory characters to start plaguing the people at the western border of Daqian.

The entire village was relocating this time.

An ordinary table made its way to Dadui and was quickly met by scouts who had gone ahead.

Additionally, some individuals from Dadui were conducting routine inspections.

When one of the Riddler's outside informants checked the table, his eyes blurred as he noticed that some random marks on the table seemed to inexplicably stand out, with faint spirit light flashing through those specific marks.

These marks formed a line of text.

"Bring this to the Riddler."

In the blink of an eye, everything returned to normal. It was just an ordinary wooden table that should have been refurbished long ago.

The informant paused momentarily, about to speak, when the elder, who had been watching the table, walked over with a cane.

"This table has been passed down in my family for generations. Each generation learned to write on it as a keepsake.

If esteemed sir admires it, take it home for the children as a good omen."

With a sigh in his voice, the elder didn't seem to care whether the table held valuable secrets. He even feared it might be too valuable.

The elder, having lived a long life, was neither deaf nor blind, and was clearer in judgment than the younger generation.

The informant nodded in agreement.

"I can see that ink has thoroughly permeated it. You must come from a family of scholars. Let's say I buy this..."

"No, no, no need for that. It's just a worthless country item, no need to spend money on such things. Just take it. It's too burdensome for us to keep on the road."

The elder firmly refused to accept any money, insisting on giving without selling.

The informant dispatched someone to take the table away, saying nothing more, yet ensured within his authority that the elder's group was settled in a relatively good place.

The new village was close to a Spiritual Medicine planting site, relatively safer, and gave them a better chance of coming across fortune in the future.

The elderly man never mentioned to anyone that the table might be a treasure.

The family and fellow villagers thought the elder used an old table to engage in a conversation that secured a better starting point for their kin. Everyone was pleased.

The informant, with the table, immediately went to see his superior.

In another place, they might not care so much, but this was the Riddler. Famous for their cryptic communication style—just one line, leaving the rest for you to interpret and decide—it was very much their method.

The scratched old table was brought to the Riddler, where again they saw the brief flash of words.

Within a few days, this old table went through thorough scrutiny and ended up in front of Jia Shisi.

No one understood how the words appeared. Apart from the spirit light that disappeared quickly, the table remained an ordinary one.

"Speak, who are you that expended such effort to contact me?"

Jia Shisi tapped his finger on the table, receiving no response.

Thinking for a moment, Jia Shisi took out paper and pen and began writing on the table.

The next moment, among the aged marks on the table, certain lines began to transform. Perceived as highlighted, they formed a line of words.

"I come from Daqian, in the Jinyi Wei government office, I wish to discuss something with you, you might consider it a transaction."

"You first identify yourself."

"I have persuaded the Jinyi Wei Commander to defect to Dadui, you protect his life, and mine.

Moreover, I know more than the Jinyi Wei Commander. I will also come to Dadui.

As for my identity, your Emperor surely knows me.

Please, make haste."

Jia Shisi furrowed his brows slightly.

Originally, he intended to take things slowly, understanding that those who sought them out eagerly meant to extract as much information as possible. No promises would be made without confirming identity.

But this matter involved the Emperor, prompting Jia Shisi to take extra caution.

Was the Emperor's identity exposed?

Jia Shisi paused in silence, providing no response, then left and sent a message to Yu Ziqing.