Enchanted Skies

Chapter 1 Neural Pulse and Suzhou Embroidered Peonies

The storm transformed the Huangpu River into liquid stardust. Lin Shen unfastened the electromagnetic lock of the third-generation brain-computer interface, the titanium alloy collar clicking coldly against his nape. Thirty-seven holographic screens floated in the experimental chamber like luminescent jellyfish suspended by invisible threads, each parsing EEG spectrograms of different artists—Van Gogh's epileptic waveforms manifested as golden serrations, Bada Shanren's withered lotus imagery dissolved into ink-colored ripples, while Da Vinci's unfinished flying machine sketches slowly collapsed in Klein blue topological structures.

"Sync rate 63.7%, threshold warning." The mechanical voice of AI assistant "Xuanji" pierced through the rain curtain. As Lin wiped virtual raindrops off the projection keyboard, he noticed quantum distortion occurring in the hologram of Emperor Huizong's “Auspicious Cranes”. The eighteen white cranes' wings suddenly developed bronze patina resembling ancient ritual vessels, their talons dripping with gold powder akin to flaking Dunhuang murals. The once-static auspicious cloud patterns began rotating counterclockwise, forming the "Mars conjunct Antares" celestial chart recorded in Northern Song astronomical archives.

"Activate spectral stabilizer." He issued the command to empty air, yet his fingers drew inverse parabolic curves across the hologram—an emergency gesture taught by his late mentor Jiang Linchuan. At that precise moment, the crane flock burst through the rice paper, their glazed-glass beaks shattering the bulletproof glass. The alarm system activated prematurely, triggered by the scent of aged pine-soot ink mingled with frankincense. Suspended glass fragments each reflected different historical iterations of the Forbidden City's corner towers.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor with the electronic static of waterlogged surfaces. As Lin concealed the neural synapse collector inside his Van Gogh sunflower cufflink, the surveillance feed revealed peony embroidery shimmering through the intruder's qipao slit. Under infrared scan, the gold and silver threads emitted peculiar bio-fluorescence, unmistakably employing the lost "Xiefang Eighteen Stitches" technique that should have perished three years ago in the Suzhou Creek fire alongside the Su Family Art Restoration Institute. He noted the intruder's suitcase surface shimmering with “Treatise on Architectural Methods”gilded patterns that morphed into Gothic rose window silhouettes in the rain.

"Ms. Su is trespassing in an S-level lab. Activate defense protocols?" The security chief's inquiry in his earpiece was severed by an electromagnetic pulse. As Lin turned, waterlogged Song brocade infused with wisteria fragrance collided with his chest. Su Wan's antiquated “Manual of Extraordinary Mounting” pressed against his heart, its cover exuding an eerie indigo phosphorescence that bloomed between them like the mineral pigments of “A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains”. A guqin-like resonance hummed from the ancient pages.

"Director Lin better explain," raindrops on her lashes prismed the lab's cold light into miniature rainbows on her cheeks, "why my grandfather was clutching your company's neural collector when he died." Her qipao collar trembled with each word, revealing a peony-shaped birthmark on her nape that now resonated with quantum ink traces lingering from “Auspicious Cranes”, projecting fragments of "feibai" cursive script from “Compendium of Ink” onto the nano-floor.

The holograms suddenly morphed into Van Gogh's “Starry Night”, all screens displaying 1937 surveillance footage from MoMA New York. Through snow static, an elderly man in moon-white traditional robes wrote equations with luminous fluid on the bronze base of Matisse's “The Dance” sculpture. Lin recognized Su Wan's grandfather Su Wenlan—the quantum antiquities appraiser who vanished three years ago. The gamma-ray dosimeter on the old man's wrist flashed in sync with the lab's alarms.

"Sever all external ports!" Lin barked at Xuanji while instinctively gripping Su's trembling wrist. The pulse beneath her skin suddenly synchronized with the lab's power core, the peony birthmark glowing fiercer than Hongshan culture's jade dragons. As alarms transitioned into the ancient guqin melody“Guangling San”, the floor-to-ceiling windows behind them reflected a phantasmagoric scene—Lujiazui's skyscrapers being digitally rewritten into the “Along the River During Qingming Festival” scroll. The Ping An Tower transformed into a rainbow bridge, the Oriental Pearl Tower warped into a Bianhe riverboat, while Jinmao Tower's glass façade shed its skin to reveal crab-claw texture strokes from “Early Spring”.

"What your grandfather took in 1949 wasn't “Timely Snow Clearing Sky”," Lin spoke with algorithmic precision, "but a quantum storage device fired using Northern Song Ru ware celadon glaze formula." He yanked open a hidden compartment, retrieving corroded Ru ceramic shards whose crackle patterns flowed with the same indigo luminescence as the manual's cover. As the shards met air, the lab filled with Song Dynasty pine-needle tea aroma, all EEG spectrograms morphing into brushstroke patterns from “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains”.

Su retreated half a step, her conservator-gloved fingers trembling. She recalled the self-reassembling fragments of “Han Xizai's Night Banquet” in the Met's underground vault three months prior, radiating this same sinister glow between enamel colors and radioactivity. The rain thickened audibly as nano-tiles exuded the marketplace clamor of Northern Song Bianjing—flower vendors' Wu dialect melodies clashing with digital currency transaction beeps. Her Tang Dynasty gilded filigree perfume sachet vibrated urgently—a warning reserved for civilization-level endangered artifacts.

"Know why Professor Jiang built this lab 492 meters high?" Lin closed in, his scent blending alpine fir and silicon wafers. "This altitude aligns with the Northern Song Astronomical Bureau's Purple Forbidden Enclosure coordinates." He activated the dome's holographic star map where Twenty-Eight Mansions' silver-blue nodes rearranged into the topological structure of Mona Lisa's smile. Su noted the celestial movements perfectly matched mandala patterns from her grandfather's forbidden “Precious Wheel Sutra”.

Her pearl hairpin emitted a shrill alarm—the "Kingfisher Feather Phoenix Pin" inherited through Su generations only activated during civilization-level threats. She finally discerned the apparatus at the lab's core—not modern equipment but a modified Northern Song astronomical clock tower crafted from golden nanmu wood, its gears entwined with mycelium-like bio-neural networks. At its heart, Ming Dynasty “Exploitation of the Works of Nature” rice planting illustrations quantum-entangled with Philadelphia Museum's “Travelers Among Mountains and Streams”, forming DNA-like luminous helices.

"You're reviving “Tiangong Kaiwu” forbidden arts..." She whipped out the gold-inlaid silver tweezers hidden in her qipao lining, its tip aimed at Lin's Adam's apple. "...using Qingming Scroll as blueprint for urban neural interfaces?" The tweezers' Makara patterns animated—the "Cultural Xiezhi" mechanism awakening only when Su heirs faced civilizational crises. She now noticed Lin's pocket watch chain—woven from silver threads inscribed with “Xuanji Tu” palindrome poetry.

As alarms climaxed, Xuanji suddenly announced in Jiang Linchuan's voice: "Detected quantum entanglement in “A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains” Band 7. Neural bridging recommended." Before Lin could react, nanopigments erupted from Su's birthmark, flooding the lab with Wang Ximeng's blue-green landscapes. In his final conscious moment, Lin saw reflected in her eyes not fear, but the same millennial sorrow haunting “Skeleton Fantasy Scroll”.

Beyond the rain-curtained windows, an old man in coir raincoat played “Erquan Yingyue” (Moon Reflected on Second Spring) on a huqin from Lujiazui's circular overpass. Dozens of compasses from various dynasties in his rattan box spun frenetically toward the lab. When the final huqin string snapped, the box emitted the same frequency as Su's hairpin alarm—intertwined with alerts from New York's Metropolitan Museum where Egyptian Hall mummies had suddenly turned their heads in unison.