Chapter 3 - 2: Technique of Petals and Poison
The night air was still, and the fireflies blinked lazily outside the shed. Inside, the silence was heavier. Not uncomfortable — just watchful. Like the walls and floor were holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen.
Jinmu sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, a single candle flickering beside him. Its light bent and danced against the clay jars and hanging ropes of garlic. The scent of dried herbs reminded him where he was — a storage shed at the back of the Peaceful Blossom Inn — but his mind was already far from it.
It’s time.
He drew in a breath.
The copied scroll inside him — that strange presence imprinted into his being the moment he touched the woman’s hand — had stopped pulsing. Now it waited. As if asking permission.
I copied her technique. I know I did. But what happens when I... paste it?
There was no manual. No glowing guide. No pop-up window that said "Are you sure?"
Just instinct.
And the subtle pull inside his core — like invisible threads connecting his breath to something foreign... and beautiful.
He whispered to himself.
"PASTE."
He didn’t shout it. Didn’t force it.