Chapter 19: The Whisper Beneath the Floorboards
The sun returned to the skies like a timid guest, slipping through gauze-thin clouds and painting soft gold over the temple courtyards. But Lin Ma felt none of its warmth.
He stood before the training field, clutching a wooden staff, surrounded by disciples a year younger, yet more skilled. His body was present, but his mind—what remained of it—was fogged.
Not because of exhaustion. But because something important had gone missing.
A memory. A truth. A part of himself.
And he couldn't recall what.
"Hey! Earth to Lin Ma!" shouted a voice. It was Elder Guo, pacing in front of the formation. "You planning to stab your opponent or talk him into surrendering?"
Scattered laughter erupted, but Lin Ma didn't smile.
He bowed slightly and stepped into the center, facing his opponent—Wei Han, a hotheaded disciple with something to prove.
The wooden staves clacked together with the signal. The match began.
Wei Han attacked first, swinging low and fast, aiming for Lin Ma's knees. Lin Ma dodged, pivoting sharply, letting instinct take over where memory failed.
He blocked, ducked, countered. His body moved with unnatural grace. Too smooth. Too precise. The same system-imbued talent that had drawn jealous eyes since his first day.
And yet, Wei Han's grin widened.
"I thought you were smarter than this," the boy sneered. "That you fought with your brain, not just cheap tricks from the gods."
Lin Ma frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Wei Han's staff jabbed forward, grazing Lin Ma's cheek. "You used to talk your way out of these things. Find angles we didn't see. You had that spark."
He lunged again. Lin Ma dodged.
"But ever since that ceremony... you've been off."
The words hit harder than the staff ever could.
> System Alert: Mental instability detected. Emotional imbalance increasing system volatility.
"I'm fine," Lin Ma whispered.
But he wasn't.
After the match, Elder Guo dismissed the class, his gaze lingering on Lin Ma longer than usual.
Yunhua appeared by the fence, arms folded.
"You're unraveling."
He didn't deny it.
"I gave up a memory. But now I feel like I've given up more than that."
She nodded slowly. "That's the price of playing with contracts. They take what you offer, and they take what you don't realize was connected to it."
They walked together toward the old records chamber, where sunlight slanted through dusty windows like golden spears.
"Then I have to find something to anchor myself again," Lin Ma said. "Before I forget why I came here at all."
That night, the nightmares returned.
He stood in a dark corridor, lined with cracked mirrors. Each one reflected a version of himself—angry, lost, corrupted, laughing madly.
One of them turned. "What are you even fighting for, Lin Ma?"
The others echoed the question like a curse.
"Who are you without your past?"
He woke with a jolt.
Sweat drenched his robe. The room was cold—unnaturally so.
Then he noticed the floorboard in the corner was slightly raised.
Cautiously, Lin Ma crept over, fingers trembling as he pried it open.
Inside was a hidden compartment. Wrapped in velvet lay a strange, circular pendant etched with ancient runes. It pulsed faintly with energy.
As he picked it up, the room darkened. A voice—not male, not female, but something between—whispered directly into his mind:
> "You tampered with the seal, outsider. The balance has shifted."
Lin Ma froze.
> "Memories are not yours to trade. And consequences must be paid."
He tightened his grip on the pendant. "Who are you?"
> "I am the record keeper. The guardian of echoes. You have awoken me."
The pendant vibrated. A stream of symbols surged through his vision. He collapsed, breathing hard, as a new system alert blinked:
> Artifact Detected: Echo Pendant.
Bound Item.
Contains sealed truths.
Usage Condition: Sacrifice of one false memory.
His thoughts spun. "False memory?"
> You may offer one belief you hold that is not real. In return, you reclaim a truth erased.
Yunhua's words rang in his head.
"They take more than what you give. They take what was tied to it."
So something connected to his memory… something that was never true to begin with.
He thought about his earliest days in this world.
About how easily he had accepted the kindness of Elder Zheng. How quickly he believed the principal had been on his side. How he assumed the teachers' hatred stemmed from jealousy and politics.
Was it all true?
Or was one of those things a lie?
He stared at the pendant.
"If I give you one false belief," he said aloud, "do I get something real back?"
> Yes. But choose carefully. Truth cannot be returned once revealed.
He took a breath.
"I give you this belief: That Elder Zheng saved me because he saw potential in me."
The pendant glowed brightly—then dimmed.
Lin Ma's vision swirled.
A memory surfaced. One he hadn't known was missing.
He saw Elder Zheng, not kneeling beside him out of compassion, but kneeling before a dark mirror, whispering to a shadowed figure.
> "The boy's soul is fractured. The perfect vessel. I will keep him near until the next moon."
Lin Ma stumbled back, eyes wide.
It hadn't been kindness.
It had been manipulation.
The entire time.
Yunhua burst into the room, blade drawn. "I felt a pulse—what happened?!"
He held up the pendant. "I found the first lie."
Her eyes locked with his.
"And now?"
Lin Ma looked up, fire in his chest returning.
"Now we find the rest."
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End of chapter