First Position

Chapter Three – A Palace

Ren Xiaosu had fallen asleep. After guarding the desolate wilderness for so long just to catch a single sparrow, he was utterly drained. Though he spent most of the time lying motionless on the ground, those with experience knew that remaining utterly still while staying alert was far more exhausting than any physical exertion.

Before dozing off, he reminded Yan Liuyuan, “Stay far away from those people if you see them. They surely know Mount Jing is dangerous—any sensible person would avoid it. But they insist on passing through. My gut tells me this isn’t as simple as it looks.”

“Mm,” Yan Liuyuan nodded obediently. “Got it.”

In truth, Ren Xiaosu and Yan Liuyuan made a rather peculiar pair. Just a few years ago, they hadn’t even known each other. Ren had later decided to protect the still-young Liuyuan—not only because he had accidentally uncovered a secret about him, but also because his own persistent migraines had plagued him for years, and he needed someone to keep watch at night.

Back then, Ren had made it clear: this was mutual use, nothing more. But after all these years, it was no longer easy to tell whether it was still about convenience… or something more.

Yan Liuyuan, who was always clever and composed in front of outsiders, became a meek and obedient child only when he was with Ren Xiaosu.

Sometimes he would say, “My life was bought with yours, Ren.”

But Ren Xiaosu never acknowledged such a notion.

Now, Ren had to investigate the sudden transformation within his mind. He had deliberately stayed awake for a long time that evening, just to see if the affliction that had haunted him would return. It didn’t. That murky chaos that once plagued his mind was gone—as if a palace had long hidden within the black fog, now finally revealed.

He needed to see what was inside that palace.

Beside him, Yan Liuyuan glanced at the sleeping Ren Xiaosu and quietly picked up his bone knife. He seated himself at the entrance of their crude shelter, where only a thick curtain separated them from the outside world. It was autumn now—cold crept in through every gap.

Just then, the rain stopped.

Footsteps approached—the distinct sloshing of boots on post-rain mud, a slippery and unique sound. The curtain was lifted slightly from the outside, but before the visitor could step in, Yan Liuyuan had already pressed the bone blade against their throat.

A beautiful face emerged. A woman. Someone not unfamiliar—she lived nearby.

She smiled. “Still awake, Liuyuan? What about Xiaosu? I heard he’s back.”

“He’s already asleep, Sister Xiaoyu,” Yan Liuyuan replied with a pleasant smile. “If you have something to say, you can tell me.”

Xiaoyu’s smile stiffened slightly. “He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

“Just a little peck on the hand from a sparrow. But Sister Xiaoyu, you don’t have to concern yourself so much with my brother. You’re eight years older than him, after all.”

Despite his youth, Yan Liuyuan displayed a maturity far beyond his years when dealing with outsiders. It didn’t matter whether they were friend or stranger, or what they said—his bone knife never wavered from Xiaoyu’s throat.

Xiaoyu fished a cigarette and lighter from her bag. It was a rolled cigarette—only workers in places like coal mines and power plants within the refuge strongholds could get those. Many toiled not just for money or food, but for that one precious cigarette at the end of the day.

Every evening, after work, crowds would be seen basking in the smoke.

Ren Xiaosu had once told Liuyuan: those cigarettes probably contained more addictive substances.

Clearly, the cigarette Xiaoyu now smoked didn’t come from her own labor.

She lit it, took a few slow puffs, seemingly lost in thought. “You're wise beyond your years. I see you both like younger brothers.”

“Oh?” Yan Liuyuan suddenly asked, “Did you catch a cold?”

Xiaoyu was taken aback. “Yes, is my voice hoarse?”

“No,” Yan Liuyuan chuckled. “I noticed that only one of your nostrils released smoke when you exhaled.”

Xiaoyu: “……”

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she always felt like Yan Liuyuan didn’t like her.

“I’ll head back, then,” she said. “When your brother wakes, let him know I stopped by.”

“Mm,” Yan Liuyuan smiled sweetly. “I’ll tell him.”

Once she was gone, Ren Xiaosu’s voice suddenly sounded behind Liuyuan. “You shouldn’t bully Sister Xiaoyu like that. Life isn’t easy for her either.”

“She’s not clean,” Yan Liuyuan replied. “And she’s only drawn to you because you always bring back game.”

“Who is clean?” Ren Xiaosu said calmly. “In this world, anyone trying to survive has already given up cleanliness. People are driven by desperation. Just keep your distance—don’t toy with her.”

In a town like this, a solitary woman wouldn’t survive long if she tried to remain ‘clean’.

Ren Xiaosu thought for a moment and added, “Besides, she never said she liked me. And how can you be sure she’s interested in me because of the prey I bring back? Maybe it’s my good looks?”

“Bro, nobody’s washed their face in months. Everyone pretty much looks the same…” Yan Liuyuan gave him a speechless look. “Weren’t you supposed to be asleep? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“Just thinking,” Ren said simply.

He hadn’t slept because he was delving into the secrets of that palace.

Inside the round hall, the walls were lined with aged wooden cabinets, like a vast exhibition room. But every display case was shrouded in black fog, concealing their contents.

At the center stood a solitary table, upon which rested a brass typewriter—one already obsolete long before the Cataclysm. The kind that clacked noisily as it typed.

This one had only twenty-four copper keys, each engraved with a single character: Justice, Honesty, Kindness, Friendship, Prosperity, Strength…—the essence of positivity.

Oddly, it seemed to contain an endless roll of parchment. And without anyone touching it, the keys clicked on their own.

Now, two lines had appeared:

“Task: Offer your prey to another.Task completed: Basic skill map unlocked—learn the abilities of others.”

He couldn’t tell whether this was a hallucination, or something more. Legends told of those capable of constructing “memory palaces” where the strength of one's will could reshape an entire imagined universe.

Yet this palace of his... didn’t quite fit that description.

Why ask him to give his catch away? Was this typewriter trying to make him a good person? In a world where even speaking of morality was a luxury?

Forget it.

Standing at the heart of the grand palace, Ren Xiaosu gazed at the surrounding display cases. Shadows drifted within each, obscured by darkness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pierce the black mist to see what floated inside.

This was a power he couldn’t yet access.

If he wanted to know whether the palace truly existed, he would have to prove it… through action.