[Vol. 1, Fragment IX: Ministry of Works ? Records of Kiln Affairs]

  "The beauty of porcelain lies in the 'Kiln Mutation.' It enters the fire as a single color and emerges in ten thousand hues. It is a gamble between flame and clay. But if something that shouldn't be there gets mixed into the clay... Note: The 'Beauty Vases' recently produced on Porcelain Street often emit crying sounds in the dead of night. The return rate is extremely high."

  — Jiankang Chamber of Commerce ? Summary of Complaint Records

  [Internal Note / Directorate of Astronomy] "Flesh-Cast Figurines": Certain perverted collectors enjoy sealing living humans inside clay molds for firing, believing this retains the 'soul'. Evaluation: Deformed aesthetics, and severely damages one's karma.

  In the western part of Jiankang City lay a street perennially shrouded in smoke and dust—Porcelain Street.

  Before they even drew close, a blistering heatwave hit their faces. The air here was so dry it made the throat smoke; every breath felt like inhaling a handful of red-hot sand. A thick layer of fine white powder accumulated on the ground. At first glance, it looked like snow, but it produced a crisp crunching sound when stepped on, and the kicked-up dust carried an indescribable, metallic sweetness.

  Xie Bi’an walked in front, lazily fanning himself with a folding fan he had just swiped from Shen Wu, though it did nothing to dispel the oppressive heat.

  "Such heavy fire energy, and such heavy Yin energy."

  He narrowed his eyes, reaching out to pinch a bit of the white powder that had drifted onto his cuff, and sniffed it. "Commander Shen, don't take deep breaths. This white powder on the ground... is bone ash. And it's a fresh batch, fired not too long ago."

  "Bone ash?"

  Shen Wu followed closely behind, his hand resting on his saber hilt as he vigilantly scanned their surroundings. Hearing those two words, he subconsciously held his breath, his stomach churning violently.

  As the location of the Great Wei's largest official kilns, this place should have been boiling with voices—porters, potters, and merchants coming and going in an endless stream. But today, the entire street was empty. Not a single ghost could be seen. Only dozens of massive chimneys stood like tombstones, belching not black smoke, but an eerie, dark red smog that spiraled in the air, staining the sunlight the color of blood.

  The doors of the shops lining the street were tightly shut. The wooden boards were plastered with yellow exorcism talismans that flapped loudly in the hot wind, sounding like silent screams.

  "Don't be nervous, Commander Shen," Xie Bi’an pointed his fan at a shop window. "Look, isn't business still running? This shop's 'goods' are arranged quite neatly."

  Shen Wu followed his gaze.

  It was an old, established porcelain shop named Spring in the Jade Flask. Although the doors were closed, through the lattice of the window, he could see the interior filled with a dazzling array of exquisite porcelain vases.

  Shen Wu stepped closer, wanting a better look.

  The vases were snow-white, their glaze as warm and smooth as jade, and their shapes were bizarre—the body of every single vase faintly outlined the contours of a human face. Looking closely, they resembled the faces of sleeping beauties, their lines soft and frighteningly lifelike.

  "This craftsmanship..." Shen Wu frowned, pressing his face near the glass to see the texture of the glaze.

  Suddenly, his pupils contracted.

  Through the semi-transparent blue-white glaze, he distinctly saw a bluish blood vessel pulsing faintly beneath the porcelain shell, like a buried earthworm.

  "This isn't porcelain..." Shen Wu felt his scalp go numb, cold sweat instantly soaking his back. "These are... people?"

  "Looks like they flayed human skin and pasted it directly onto the clay molds for firing?"

  Xie Bi’an had wandered over at some point, also pressing his face against the glass. His tone held no fear, only the nitpicking critique of an expert.

  "No," Xie Bi’an shook his head. "If it were just pasted skin, it would carbonize under the high heat and wouldn't produce this kind of 'fleshy' texture. This should be... internal embedding."

  "Internal embedding?" Shen Wu froze.

  "Using living humans as the clay material and using their resentment to sustain the fire." Xie Bi’an traced a line on the glass with his finger. "Letting the flesh and the porcelain clay bite into each other inside the kiln, using the bones as the scaffolding. This is called a 'Living Kiln Sacrifice'."

  "This kind of craftsmanship is an utter devastation of karma." Xie Bi’an pointed to a pile of shards in the corner. "Look at those. Those are the ones that failed. The mortal flesh couldn't withstand the fire and burst the porcelain shell open."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Shen Wu looked over and saw several charred, severed fingers mixed within the pile of shards. The color drained entirely from his face.

  Just then, the largest "Beauty Vase" in the window suddenly opened its eyes.

  They were eyes filled with bloodshot veins, despair, and toxic resentment. Because of the high-temperature baking, the eyelids had fused with the eyeballs.

  A crisp crack echoed as fractures spread across the vase. A mouth lacking lips struggled to part the porcelain surface, emitting a voice as weak and sharp as a needle:

  "Cracking... hurts so much... stop hitting me..."

  "There's someone... inside..."

  "Monstrosity!"

  Shen Wu’s reaction was lightning fast. With a sharp metallic ring, the ring-pommel saber cleared its sheath. Carrying a fierce blade-wind and a chest full of fury, he slashed directly toward the grotesque porcelain vase.

  With a heavy smack, a hand gripped his wrist like an iron vise.

  "Don't be impulsive, Commander Shen." Xie Bi’an stepped in front of him, his freezing right hand locked firmly onto Shen Wu's arm.

  "You're stopping me?" Shen Wu stared at Xie Bi’an in disbelief, his eyes red. "There's a person inside! She's crying for help!"

  "She can't be saved."

  Xie Bi’an looked coldly at the porcelain vase, his eyes reflecting a near-cruel calmness. "Her physical body has already been fired together with the clay. If you shatter the vase now, it’s equivalent to giving her the death of a thousand cuts."

  "Besides... this is evidence."

  Xie Bi’an pointed to the dark red veins flowing on the vase's surface. "The resentment inside is alive. It can point the way for us and lead us to the 'source of the fire'."

  He released Shen Wu’s hand, turned, and lightly flicked the porcelain vase.

  A crisp chime rang out as a faint golden light seeped into the vessel. The resentful eyes slowly closed, and the cracked mouth sealed shut again, as if finally receiving comfort, reverting to an ordinary dead object.

  "Sealed for now. At least she'll hurt a little less," Xie Bi’an said faintly. "This kind of 'half-baked rice' is the hardest to deal with. We'll figure out a way to exorcise her after we find the main culprit."

  The hand Shen Wu used to grip his saber trembled. He looked at Xie Bi’an’s calm profile and felt for the first time that behind this man’s coldness lay a deeper compassion—or perhaps, helplessness.

  "Let's go."

  Xie Bi’an offered no further explanation. He simply turned to look at the tallest chimney at the end of the street. "The main culprit is in there."

  The two men ventured deeper down the street.

  The further they went, the higher the temperature rose. The heat distorted the air, and even breathing brought a fiery, stinging pain.

  Xianchan, tucked in Xie Bi’an’s robes, finally woke up.

  The golden cat poked his head out of Xie Bi’an’s sleeve, twitched his nose twice, and his eyes instantly lit up.

  "Smells amazing!"

  Xianchan yelled in Xie Bi’an’s mind. "Father! I smell 'Fire Essence' here! And... roast meat! Medium-well!"

  "Shut up." Xie Bi’an swatted the cat’s head, his tone stern. "That is 'toxic fire' from scorched, resentful souls. If you dare eat that, you'll be shitting gold sand for three days when we get back. Let's see how you face Anu after that."

  Xianchan immediately shrank his neck, pulling his head back in disgust. "Never mind then. This street food isn't sanitary."

  They stopped in front of a massive kiln factory.

  This was the legendary "Imperial Dragon Kiln."

  The factory doors were wide open, the interior as pitch-black as the maw of a giant beast. There were no guards at the entrance, only two statues of young boys—also made of fired porcelain. They were deathly pale, flickering with an eerie light under the glow of the fires.

  "You two customers..."

  A raspy voice, sounding as if the vocal cords had been ruined by smoke, drifted from the darkness. "Are you here to buy porcelain, or... to test the kiln?"

  A hunched old man walked out.

  He wore a short tunic covered in mud and coal ash. His skin displayed a bizarre grayish-white hue, closely resembling dried, cracked terracotta.

  "We are here to answer the bounty."

  Xie Bi’an pulled the wanted poster from his robes and shook it. "I heard you're short a master to 'stoke the fire'?"

  The old man raised his head. His cloudy eyes swept over Xie Bi’an before finally resting on Shen Wu.

  "Mirror Demon Division?" The old man grinned, revealing a mouth full of blackened, rotting teeth. "And... the smell of the Directorate of Astronomy."

  "Excellent."

  The old man clapped his hands. The sound was like two hard clods of mud striking together.

  "The Dragon Kiln just happens to be... hungry these past few days. Ordinary firewood won't make the fire roar, and the tribute wares won't develop their colors. If they don't develop color, the one above is going to chop off my head."

  The old man pointed toward the Imperial Palace, a flash of driven-mad fanaticism in his eyes.

  "Someone is testing the kiln for the Imperial Preceptor. The timing is just right, right before the Grand Ceremony of Liuli... Since you two are 'abundant in spiritual energy,' please enter the kiln!"

  As his words fell, a dense, continuous scraping sound of porcelain shards dragging echoed from the surrounding shadows.

  Countless half-finished porcelain humans walked out of the darkness.

  Some were missing arms, some had heads fired crookedly, and some were still dripping with red glaze. They had no feet; they dragged themselves across the ground on porcelain bases, making ear-piercing friction noises as they surrounded the two men.

  "Commander Shen," Xie Bi’an sighed and snapped his folding fan shut. "It seems this five thousand taels won't be easy to earn."

  "What are these things?" Shen Wu held his saber horizontally, stepping in front to protect Xie Bi’an, his eyes turning glacial.

  "Defects."

  Xie Bi’an pointed at the porcelain humans. "That old man is trying to fire an 'Immortal Golden Body,' but unfortunately, his craftsmanship is garbage. All he's firing is crispy trash."

  "Since it's trash..."

  A sliver of killing intent flashed through Shen Wu’s eyes, and the long blade in his hand suddenly let out a clear, resonant dragon's hum.

  "Then I'll smash them."

  "Don't rush." Xie Bi’an pressed a hand on Shen Wu’s shoulder. "It would be a pity to smash them. The heat of this Dragon Kiln is just right, and this garbage... will make perfect fuel."

  He turned to look at the hunched old man, a smile more greedy than an evil ghost spreading across his face. From his robes, he pulled out the blackened waist tag representing his authority.

  "Listen up, old man."

  Xie Bi’an announced loudly, his voice overpowering the scraping sounds of the porcelain humans:

  "This is an asset of the official kilns! You have privately fired contraband, resulting in the leakage of Filthy Qi! According to the laws of the Great Wei... whatever Filth is encountered must be sealed; if it cannot be sealed, it falls under the temporary requisition of my Miscellaneous Division!"

  He extended his freezing Liuli hand and made a vicious grabbing motion at the empty air.

  "Commander Shen, bear witness for me—this kiln is now requisitioned by me!"