The fractured stone beam groaned subtly in the morning breeze. Pi Yanlin looked up at the mass of light within the clouds.
The scattered golden rays from a moment ago had coiled into a cocoon, a turbid halo of light rippling across its surface. From its very center came a faint, rhythmic heartbeat—it bore an uncanny resemblance to the records of a "Demon Fetus" he had seen in the Xuan’an Bureau archives last year, though this heartbeat was wrapped not in resentment, but in the heat of thousands of people's faith.
"That is the final ember of the 'Pseudo-Mandate of Heaven'," Gu Cang said, slamming his cane hard against the bluestone floor, making the cloud patterns on his cuffs tremble. "Back then, Li Chongguang used the wishes of a million followers to nurture this thing, relying on it to tamper with cause and effect, to turn truth on its head. If it were to hatch..." The old man’s throat worked, his unfinished words swallowed by the wind and the snapping of tattered banners.
Chapter 149