The Nameless Epoch

Chapter 4: Who Holds the Evidence?

Two time imprints hovered before the mission wall. The first had stopped when the death bell of Zhexue Pass fell silent. The second came thirteen breaths later. No one in the hall spoke. Only the soft rasp of a records cultivator's brush moved across the paper. He finished copying the final line and was about to close the original file when Ye Zhaoshuang pinned down its corner with a copper tally.

Less than a quarter of an hour remained before noon, and the array shaft responsible for rearranging the missions had begun to grind slowly inside the wall. The cultivator from the Array Nexus Pavilion did not dare stop the whole structure. He could only maintain the reverse-reflected light and hold the newly exposed rewrite layer in place. With every passing breath, another segment of the array plate in his hands lit up, urging everyone present to decide where the evidence would go.

“Leave the original file open and prepare a chain-of-custody inventory first.” Ye Zhaoshuang surveyed the counter. “List the gray-white jade slip, the frozen-blood casket, Chishan, and the Thunder Mirror's original reflected image as four separate items. Each of the twelve duplicate images will be sealed by a different witness. The mission wall remains under on-site guard by the Array Nexus Pavilion. No item may share an evidence chest with another.”

Jiang Linyuan remained within the lightning seal. Chishan had numbed his right arm with its weight, but he spoke only after hearing the final instruction. “Chishan and the jade slip cannot be placed under the same custodian. They respond to each other. If anything changes after they are stored together, no one will be able to determine which one caused it.”

“Nor can Chishan remain with you.” Ye Zhaoshuang turned toward him. “You were the last person to touch it, and you are the person to whom the evidence responds. Leaving it in your custody would not create a second chain of evidence.”

“I didn't ask to take it away. Seal it separately. Record who holds the key, who may inspect it, and how many people must be present whenever it is opened.” Jiang Linyuan loosened his stiff fingers, his voice still even. “The whole cost must be counted. You cannot count only the chance that I might destroy evidence and ignore the chance that a custodian might replace it.”

The gray-white slip could make a new scratch appear inside Chishan, while Chishan could reflect the hidden layer of the mission wall. The two objects already formed a closed loop of mutual influence. If they entered the same chest, then whether another mark appeared tomorrow or a layer vanished from the soul imprint, the custodian could blame the change on the evidence reacting by itself. Separating them would at least preserve sequence. Whichever side changed first, the other would remain its witness.

The second copper tally in Ye Zhaoshuang's sleeve paused for one breath. “That can be entered. But you do not choose the custodian.”

“Nor should one party choose every custodian.” Jiang Linyuan looked toward the twelve duplicate images. “Twelve people each holding one copy does not mean all twelve are trustworthy. It means making twelve people tell the same lie at the same moment is harder.”

“You are still influencing the verification method,” Ye Zhaoshuang reminded him at once, though she did not reject the point. “That statement will be entered as the applicant's submission, not directly as a ruling.”

Three knocks sounded outside the hall, struck in the formal rhythm used when the Law Hall took control of a scene. The guard opened a gap barely wide enough for one person. Six enforcement cultivators entered carrying two black-iron evidence chests, each lid fitted with twin locks. Their leader, the deputy head of the Enforcement Office, wore no weapon. He carried a red-bordered document in both hands. His first glance upon entering went to the mission wall. Only the second went to the people.

“By order of the Law Hall, the Merit Hall is now an implicated site.” He unfolded the document. “All original evidence will be transferred to the Enforcement Office. The outside-sect witness may retain duplicate records. Everyone present will be moved to the Law Hall according to the existing register. The transfer will be completed before noon.”

Steward Zhou moved away from the counter at once, as though someone capable of making decisions had finally arrived. The cultivator from the Array Nexus Pavilion did not move. The black rewrite layer before him remained pinned beneath the Sin-Illuminating Thunder Mirror. No one dared promise that the odd-numbered records would remain once the reverse-reflected light was removed.

Ye Zhaoshuang accepted the transfer order and read only its opening and final lines. “This case involves a cross-sect mission imprint. My duty as witness has not ended. The Enforcement Office may seal the scene, but it may not unilaterally remove every piece of original evidence.”

The deputy head answered, “Inspector Ye is responsible only for cross-sect observation. You have no authority to interfere with the destination of this sect's evidence.”

“Which is why I did not say it should belong to me.” She turned the transfer order toward the nine witnesses. “I require distributed custody until the Adjudication Office designates the location of the master file. If you insist on a concentrated transfer, attach the grounds for finding that the Enforcement Office and the Merit Hall have no shared interest in the case.”

“If the Merit Hall is compromised, that is all the more reason to place the evidence with the Law Hall.”

“Whether the Law Hall is compromised has not yet been investigated,” Jiang Linyuan said from within the lightning seal.

Only then did the deputy head look directly at him. “A person under investigative detention has no standing to decide custody.”

“I don't. I am reporting a risk.” Jiang Linyuan's gaze moved from the two evidence chests to the transfer order. “What does the final line of the document say?”

The deputy head did not answer. Ye Zhaoshuang had already lifted the foot of the scroll. The vermilion writing was explicit: when original evidence implicated a member of the sect's law-enforcement body or an outside-sect witness, transfer required both the primary seal of the Enforcement Office and the countersign of the Adjudication Office. The primary seal at the head of the scroll was dark and clear. Beside it was an empty frame reserved for the second seal.

The Adjudication Office's countersign was missing.

A records cultivator took out his portable seal register, compared the dimensions of the empty frame with the duty countersign of the Adjudication Office, then verified the fine text at the bottom of the scroll. No sentence had been omitted from the order. The condition for its validity had been written in full. What was missing was the seal proving that someone had reviewed the command. If the countersign were added afterward, later readers would see only a procedurally complete order. They would never know who had removed the evidence before that completion.

One of the nine witnesses instinctively reached for his duplicate image. Steward Zhou drew back the foot he had just placed beyond the counter. The deputy head's expression did not change. He rolled the document halfway closed.

“In an emergency, the Enforcement Office has authority to intervene at the scene. The countersign can be entered afterward.”

“Authority to intervene allows you to seal doors, separate people, and prevent the destruction of evidence. It does not make an order that has not taken effect valid ahead of time.” Ye Zhaoshuang did not seize the document. She allowed him to withdraw it. “You may issue a separate emergency lockdown order, and I will witness it. The evidence remains where it is until someone from the Adjudication Office arrives.”

“The mission wall rearranges at noon. If the evidence goes out of control, who will answer for it?”

“The party proposing movement must first provide grounds showing that movement will not trigger that loss of control. If you cannot, then everyone shares the consequences of sealing it in place.” She set three copper tallies upon the counter, one corner each for fact, rule, and consequence. “A deadline does not replace a missing seal.”

The deputy head watched her for several breaths, then ceased arguing over the transfer order. He pressed one hand to the enforcement tablet at his waist. Four curtains of black light rose along the sides of the hall, sealing the western window, the duty passage, and the underground transport array. The stone gate, which had previously been lowered only halfway, crashed all the way down. Even the snowy light beneath it vanished.

“Custody is disputed. Initiating a Class-A scene lockdown,” his voice carried through the hall. “During the lockdown, only the duty adjudicator of the Adjudication Office may enter. No one may send messages, leave the site, or destroy any record in their possession. Violators will be detained on suspicion of destroying evidence.”

Ye Zhaoshuang recorded the moment of lockdown in the file and raised no objection. The lockdown itself preserved the scene. If she rejected it merely because she distrusted the person who ordered it, she would create an opening for someone present to remove a duplicate image. Instead, she placed a separate lightning seal on each of the twelve copies. Whichever seal broke first, the Sin-Illuminating Thunder Mirror would record its holder first.

The nine disciples secured their copies against their bodies. The remaining three went respectively to the Records Office, the Array Nexus Pavilion, and the Immortal Alliance witness file. Steward Zhou was ordered to keep both hands visible on the counter. He glanced more than once toward the duty passage behind the mission wall, now blocked by black light. The two duty stewards who had previously been able to claim that passage was someone else's responsibility could no longer change where they stood without reporting their names first.

Jiang Linyuan looked at the two empty evidence chests positioned on either side of the counter. “If Chishan must remain at the scene, lock the shield ring and shield face separately. At every opening, verify the old welds before inspecting the inner scratches.”

“One more condition,” Ye Zhaoshuang said. “You will not participate in the first unsealing inspection, so your testimony cannot contaminate the result in reverse. Once the inspection is complete, you receive a public copy of the record.”

Jiang Linyuan did not bargain. “Record a deadline for disclosure.”

“Before the hour of the rabbit tomorrow.”

The deputy head listened as the two of them entered one temporary custody rule after another into the file. At last, he walked over to Chishan. He took out a black-iron lock and motioned for Jiang Linyuan to release the shield. Ye Zhaoshuang first swept the lock with the Sin-Illuminating Thunder Mirror. Only after confirming that no hidden spiritual lines lay inside did she open a one-inch gap in the lightning seal at Jiang Linyuan's feet.

Chishan struck the stone floor with a heavy crash when it left his hand. The burden vanished from Jiang Linyuan's right shoulder, but his arm remained fixed in the posture of holding the shield. He stepped back to his original position and watched the deputy head bring the black-iron lock toward the shield ring. When the man bent down, his broad sleeve slipped half an inch from his wrist. A fine glint of gold flashed inside its fold.

“Stop,” Jiang Linyuan said.

The deputy head's hand froze above the shield ring. Ye Zhaoshuang did not ask why. The Sin-Illuminating Thunder Mirror had already turned over, sending silver-white lightning skimming across the exposed sleeve. A grain of golden sand, smaller than the point of a needle, rose from the weave. The frozen blood inside the ice casket trembled in response. Within the mirror, both grains of gold displayed the same three folded striations.