"Look! Jinzhou is just ahead!" Chixia exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement as Rover and the others approached the city's gates.
Their footsteps echoed softly along the worn path, drawing closer with every step. Yet, as they walked, a single crimson petal spiraled down through the air, landing quietly at Rover's feet.
At first glance, the petal appeared ordinary — delicate, harmless. But beneath its gentle fall, something pulsed. A faint vibration, almost imperceptible, resonated against Rover's heightened senses.
His gaze flicked over his shoulder, scanning the empty road behind them. The world was still. Silent. And yet—
"Rover?" Yangyang's voice called him back, gentle but curious.
He turned to her, offering a brief shake of his head, as if to dismiss his sudden pause. Together, they passed through the threshold and entered the city.
Not far behind, veiled in the folds of lush trees, a figure observed with quiet amusement. A soft, breathless giggle slipped from her lips.
"There you are..."
"My dearest..."
"Seed of Fate."
***
"Whew." A low whistle slipped from Chixia's lips as they stepped into the grand hall. The air was thick with murmurs, dozens of people gathered before the grand structure—City Hall.
"First time I've ever seen such a crowd here," she said, her voice tinged with surprise and exasperation.
Yangyang's eyes swept across the assembly, her brows knitting slightly. "Same here. I've never seen so many non-staff civilians inside City Hall before."
Rover's gaze was calm but sharp, scanning the faces, the restless shifting of those waiting. "Are they all here for an audience with the Magistrate?" he asked.
"Most of them, yes," Yangyang replied, lowering her voice as if wary of listening ears. "But from what I've heard, none of them have been granted an audience."
"Turned away by who?" Rover asked, his curiosity sharpening.
"It's said..." Yangyang hesitated for a moment, "... that a single glance from the Magistrate's bodyguard—Lady Sanhua—was enough to make them turn back."
Chixia raised a skeptical brow. "What kind of description is that? Sounds like they ran into some snake-haired demoness who turned them to stone."
Just then, a light, almost cheerful voice chimed in from the side. "I was fortunate enough to be personally rejected by Lady Sanhua," a woman said, wearing a grin that made it hard to tell if she was boasting or complaining.
Rover said nothing. His senses, always quietly attuned to the undercurrents around him, caught something faint—an unease beneath the crowd's murmurs. He spoke almost to himself. "Perhaps the Magistrate isn't present at all."
"There's a chance," Yangyang agreed, then glanced at him, sensing something behind his calm tone. "Have you thought of something, Rover?"
Rover lowered his voice to a murmur. "I find it curious that the Magistrate insists on meeting certain guests personally."
"You mean...?" Yangyang asked, trying to read between his words.
"Nothing in particular," Rover replied, dismissing it with a faint wave of his hand.
Yangyang offered a small, helpless smile. "I can never seem to keep up with your thoughts. Still, I don't see the harm in meeting her."
"Same here," Chixia added. "The Magistrate's still our best lead—for now. Whatever she has in mind for you, it's better than standing around waiting."
Rover stayed silent, uncertainty flickering beneath his calm exterior. Though much of his memory was lost, his instincts remained sharp. Sadly, instinct alone was no substitute for knowledge.
"What do you think, Rover?" Yangyang asked quietly. "Are you in a hurry to recover your memories?"
"Most certainly," Rover answered after a pause. "It's an inconvenience, but not unbearable. Besides..." He allowed himself a thin smile. "What truly matters is how I'll live moving forward—and the memories I create for myself."
"In that case," Yangyang said gently, "let's start by meeting the Magistrate. She may hold the answers you're searching for."
With that, they approached the large, ornate doors leading deeper into the City Hall.
Before they crossed the threshold, Yangyang stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're not allowed to accompany you any further. Chixia and I will be waiting right outside."
Rover nodded and stepped inside, the doors closing behind him with a soft thud that seemed to echo far too long.
Inside, a receptionist was waiting. "Please, follow me," she said politely, leading him through the grand corridor.
Soon they arrived at an ornate chamber, its polished marble floors gleaming beneath the high arched ceiling. The hall was empty, adding an eerie weight to the silence.
"Kindly have a seat," the receptionist said, gesturing to a chair. "Lady Sanhua will be with you shortly."
Rover obeyed, sitting quietly as his gaze swept the chamber. His unease deepened—not fear, but the familiar sensation of something unseen lingering just beyond reach.
Before long, the doors at the far end opened, and Sanhua entered with quiet grace. Rover stood to greet her as her gaze settled upon him.
The Tacet Mark embedded in her right eye flickered faintly, casting a brief glow as she studied him. Something flashed in her gaze—recognition? Surprise?—but it passed as swiftly as it came, replaced by a serene, polite smile.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said, her voice calm and measured. "I apologize for the delay. My name is Sanhua, bodyguard to Madam Magistrate."
"Rover," he introduced himself simply.
As he had half-expected, Sanhua offered a polite nod before revealing, "I regret to inform you that Madam Magistrate is currently away."
She exhaled softly, as though slightly apologetic. "Before her departure, however, she instructed me to deliver these tokens and a welcome gift on her behalf."
Without any tests or verification, she handed over the items. The ease of it made Rover pause. "Are you certain I'm the person you've been waiting for?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.
Sanhua's gaze didn't waver. "Your resonance is impressive—truly exceptional," she said, her voice calm, but there was a subtle note of certainty behind her words.
Rover understood then. This woman had used a technique earlier—likely the same one that had filtered the many visitors outside.
"I heard many people were... politely asked to leave," Rover remarked, his tone carefully neutral.
Sanhua let out a small, helpless sigh. "Regarding that..." She paused briefly before lifting her hand.
The Tacet Mark in her right eye flickered softly as she activated it once again. "My eyes can see the frequencies of all living beings," she explained. "Or rather, those 'frequencies' are the only thing I can see."
Her gaze seemed to narrow slightly as she studied him. "You... you share the same frequency as Madam Magistrate."
That made Rover pause. "The same frequency?" His brow arched.
Curious, he added, "What does my frequency look like?"
Sanhua smiled gently. "You appear undistorted and authentic—in your original form."
"Undistorted?" Rover repeated, mulling over her words.
"Apologies," Sanhua said with a soft laugh. "Perhaps my description isn't entirely accurate. What I mean is—both you and Madam Magistrate appear undistorted to me." She paused, searching for the right words. "In my eyes, you appear exactly as you are."
Rover's gaze sharpened, intrigued. "And what do the others look like?"
Sanhua's smile dimmed slightly. "They all look... different." She hesitated, as though debating how much she should say. After a brief pause, she added, "With one exception."
Rover tilted his head slightly. "Who?"
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Sanhua's face.
For a moment, she seemed hesitant to speak further, but after a beat of silence, she answered cautiously, "We've recently hired several powerful Resonators to assist with containing the Tacet Discord outbreak at the frontlines."
Rover accepted the half-answer without pressing further, sensing the boundary of what she was willing to reveal.
Their conversation shifted soon after. Sanhua extended her hand politely. "May I see your terminal?"
Rover handed it over. Sanhua quickly interfaced with the device, uploading several documents, clearances, and encrypted files. After a few quiet moments, she returned it to him.
"I've updated your access credentials," she explained. "Your clearance level now ranks just below the Magistrate herself."
Rover blinked, momentarily surprised by the sudden elevation of privilege.
Sanhua smiled at his reaction and added, "Additionally, accommodations have been prepared for you here within City Hall. You are welcome to stay with us as long as necessary. We will be ready to receive you at any time."
Rover nodded slowly, silently noting how this encounter had already grown far more intricate than he had first anticipated.
With nothing further, he turned and made his way back down the long corridor, retracing his steps through the quiet, marble-lined hallways of City Hall. The air was still, each footfall echoing faintly against the polished stone.
Then—a sound.
A faint clicking reached his ears. Subtle at first, but distinct. Curious, Rover slowed his pace and followed the noise to a side passage.
There, tucked away behind an unmarked door, the sound grew clearer: the crisp, deliberate clacking of Weiqi stones being placed on a board, followed by extended pauses of contemplative silence.
He approached the door and raised a hand to knock. His knuckles tapped gently against the polished wood.
No response.
'Perhaps they're simply too absorbed in their game,' he mused. The rhythm of the game continued within — stone after stone, falling into place like echoes of distant thoughts.
For a moment, an odd feeling stirred in him — a quiet, inexplicable urge to join the game, as though some unspoken invitation lingered behind the door. The pull was faint, but persistent.
Driven by curiosity, he tried the handle, gently pressing against the door. But it didn't budge. The heavy door remained firmly closed, unmoved by his efforts.
Rover paused, his hand resting briefly on the cool surface. The rhythmic clacking inside continued, as steady and detached as before — the private world of its unseen players undisturbed.
"I shouldn't keep those two waiting," Rover muttered, thinking of Yangyang and Chixia as he turned away.
Behind the door that refused to open, the game of Weiqi continued — but not one of mere skill, nor one played by ordinary Resonators. It was a clash of ideals, where stones became symbols of opposing philosophies.
Rover was right. What seemed at first a simple match had evolved into something far more intricate. The game unfolded like a silent war.
Changli's hand hovered above the board, poised and steady. Her eyes traced not just the present layout but invisible threads — possibilities woven from past choices and future gambits.
Each move was a dialogue with time itself, a delicate dance between memory and anticipation. With quiet precision, she placed a black stone at L10.
Across from her, Da Lian studied the board with an unreadable calm. Her white stones held firm — neither advancing aggressively nor retreating.
Though her moves appeared cautious, Da Lian deliberately suppressed several winning lines, ensuring the game remained within the narrow corridor of balance she had calculated from the start.
Her play was one of balance, maintaining fragile equilibrium without inviting either victory or defeat. She was not here to conquer, but to sustain.
"You hesitate too long," Changli said, her voice low, edged with quiet urgency. "I'm not here to wait."
A faint smile touched Da Lian's lips, amused by her impatience. "Sometimes, waiting is all that's needed to see what truly matters."
Changli's focus narrowed. The world outside faded; only the shifting patterns of the board remained — traps hidden beneath apparent stability, old mistakes revisited and corrected. She saw the opening.
With a flick of her wrist, she severed a vulnerable cluster near the center, capturing white stones and breaking her formation. The board seemed to tilt under the sudden shift — territory lost, balance disturbed.
Da Lian remained composed. Her gaze met Changli's, steady and unyielding. "Not every battle must be won."
Changli's jaw tensed. She pressed forward, trying to force an advantage, driving her opponent closer to collapse. But Da Lian yielded only what was necessary, weaving her stones into quiet fortitude. She defended, neither breaking nor surrendering.
Hours passed. The game deepened, each move layered with quiet tension. Changli's mind oscillated between sharp tactical precision and the vast, abstract sweep of potential futures. The weight of history lingered in her choices.
Da Lian moved slowly, with purpose — never rushed, never reckless. She was maintaining a balance, holding the line against the pressure without allowing collapse.
Behind her calm exterior, a single thought spun quietly: 'I must neither win nor yield.'
For Da Lian, the reason for balance was clear and unyielding. In the unequal realm Changli sought to dominate, Da Lian aimed to establish equal terms.
She did not play solely for herself—she played for Changli as well. To let Changli be defeated was simply not an option.
As the board neared its endgame, their breaths slowed, tension coiled tight between them. Changli placed a final stone, her eyes burning with quiet defiance. "This isn't over. I won't accept a stalemate."
Da Lian's reply was calm, almost gentle. She passed, signaling the inevitable. "Sometimes, true strength lies in knowing when to let go."
A beat.
Changli's fingers hovered briefly above the board, then lowered as she surrendered. She passed. Da Lian followed, passing in turn. The match had concluded—a perfect 181 to 181.
A draw.
The silence that followed was absolute.
The board lay still—not a field of conquest, but a mirror reflecting two opposing wills locked in perfect balance. Neither triumphed, neither fell.
Frustration flickered faintly in Changli's chest, but alongside it, a quiet satisfaction. To find such a match was rare. Da Lian, too, felt the quiet weight of contentment—everything had unfolded exactly as she had intended.
"It's a draw," Da Lian stated softly. She glanced toward Changli, offering a small, genuine smile. "You are impressive."
"You're one to talk," Changli replied with equal admiration. "You played exceptionally well… far too well for your first match." She withheld the final thought
Now if only Changli knew the board was played by Lian and Lian alone. Her insight was inhumane, and could beat even the Tethys System.
"I suppose this leaves us at a truce," Da Lian said gently. Then, after a brief pause, she added with a hint of warmth, "Miss Counselor."
"Changli is fine," Changli replied with a rare, relaxed smile.
Da Lian tilted her head slightly, as though weighing something. Then she asked, her voice almost playful, "Since I can call you Changli… would you like to be friends?"
Changli blinked, caught slightly off guard. "Friends?" she repeated, studying Da Lian's calm expression. "Why would you want to be friends with me?"
Da Lian smiled faintly. "Because I like strong people," she answered simply, as though that alone explained everything.
Changli narrowed her eyes, still cautious. "Strength alone seems like a poor reason. What do you gain from such a friendship?"
"There are benefits to being friends," Da Lian replied, her voice light but steady. "And I believe you'll find them worthwhile."
Intrigued despite herself, Changli leaned forward slightly. "Oh? And what benefits would you offer me?"
Da Lian's eyes softened, her voice lowering just a little. "You would be my first friend."
Changli froze for a breath, the admission catching her off-guard. The weight of those simple words was unexpected.
"You have no friends?" Changli asked as Lian shook her head.
Before Changli could respond, Da Lian continued, her tone becoming more practical. "And as your first friend, it's only fair that I fulfill my duties first."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the polished table as she made her offer. "I am willing to lower my service fees for defending the frontlines—to fifty thousand shell credits per day."
Changli's eyes narrowed again, this time calculating. "That is quite generous," she admitted, though her tone hinted at negotiation. She paused, thinking carefully before speaking. "Sixty-five thousand."
Da Lian smiled, unbothered. "Deal."
Their eyes met one final time, both acknowledging the new, delicate arrangement — half friendship, half contract.
Though her face stayed composed, Changli felt a quiet warmth stir beneath the surface — the subtle relief of having gained a new worthy friend.
Across from her, Da Lian smiled softly, equally pleased.
'Keikaku doori,' she thought.
To be continued...
--
A/N: Quote of the day by my friend—"You cannot keep on getting away with this!"