The first shelf knocked into the second. The second toppled into the third. Then the third joined the rebellion. And so on. The entire row of shelves began falling one after another. Scrolls flew. Books launched. Somewhere in the distance, a poor librarian screamed in pure despair.
It was… beautiful in a terrible, heart-stopping way. Like watching an avalanche made of ancient knowledge.
Linyue leapt to the side to avoid being buried alive by scrolls of "Array Theory: Volume 92." Her hair whipped around her as the last shelf collapsed with a deafening bang.
Silence settled over the wreckage.
Calmly, Linyue brushed the dust from her sleeves. "Well. Nothing burned. Nothing broke. And we didn't steal anything."
A scroll landed softly on her head and unrolled itself.
"… Yet," Shen Zhenyu muttered, still staring at the wreckage with despair.
He Yuying groaned from the floor, still tangled in pants and shame.
Song Meiyu poked her head up from the disaster zone she helped create. "Do you think the library still allows late returns?"
Linyue's lips curved into a tiny, mischievous smile. "Only if we run fast enough."
Song Meiyu glanced around at the collapsed shelves and scattered scrolls. "Maybe… we should clean it up, right?"
Shen Zhenyu raised a brow. "You mean restore it back to its original condition."
"Yeah," Linyue nodded thoughtfully. "Because clean up might just mean we're allowed to burn it all and call it a fresh start."
From the floor, He Yuying let out a groan of despair. He was still tangled in his pants, face down on a pile of books. "My dignity… my life… it's all over…"
By now, a small crowd had gathered at the edges of the disaster zone. Palace servants, nervous scholars, and passing guards stared at the mountain of fallen knowledge like they were witnessing a crime scene. Not one of them dared to speak. Or scold. Or even ask who was going to pay for this catastrophe.
From between the rows, an elderly librarian slowly shuffled forward. He had a long white beard, and a face that screamed, "I am too old for this." His eyes moved from the toppled shelves to the three culprits standing in the middle of it all (and the fourth one still wriggling on the floor).
"We'll… take care of this," the old man said at last, his voice calm but heavy with quiet suffering. "You all… can rest… outside."
Linyue gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you," she said sweetly.
They were being kicked out. Very politely.
As they strolled out past the stunned crowd, Song Meiyu leaned in to whisper, "Do you think they'll let us back in tomorrow?"
He Yuying limped behind them, pants finally secured. "Only if they lose their minds overnight."
Shen Zhenyu didn't say anything. He just let out a long sigh and followed, as always.
As they stepped outside, the sunlight hit their faces. It was already noon, which meant they had spent an entire day and a half locked inside the royal library… only to get politely kicked out for causing a bookshelf apocalypse. They made their way back toward Linyue's chamber in rare silence. The air felt warm, the sky was clear, and for a brief moment it almost seemed like peace had returned. Almost.
Linyue's gaze drifted to the side and caught something suspicious. Song Meiyu was still hugging the same romance book she had been reading before the Shelf Collapse of the Century. It was clutched tightly to her chest. When had Song Meiyu grabbed it? She didn't remember her picking it up during the chaos.
Ah. Never mind. A small smile tugged at her lips as she decided to pretend she had not seen anything. After all, she herself was carrying scrolls and a book about arrays, tucked neatly under her sleeve.
Unfortunately, Shen Zhenyu noticed, as usual. "I thought," he said in his usual calm voice, eyes flicking between them, "we agreed on not stealing."
"I'm not stealing," Song Meiyu said with a big grin. "I'm borrowing it. I'll definitely return it."
He Yuying groaned from behind them, dragging his feet. "What about my dignity? Can I borrow that back too?"
No one answered. Probably because they all agreed it was long gone.
Halfway to her chamber, Linyue suddenly remembered something.
Shu Mingye. And the daily report he had so smugly demanded before she left. A day and a half had passed. Technically, she was overdue. But maybe he hadn't meant it literally. Maybe it was just a suggestion. A loose, kingly guideline. She looked up at the sky and nodded to herself. Yes. He definitely wasn't serious about it.
When they reached her chamber, something strange happened. The others—Song Meiyu, He Yuying, and even the perpetually responsible Shen Zhenyu—agreed to return to their own chambers first. To bathe. To change clothes. To be civilized for once in their chaotic lives. Perhaps their time in the library had changed them. Or perhaps they had simply realized they all smelled like dusty scrolls and very old air. Either way, Linyue was thrilled. Finally, peace.
She slipped into her chamber, shut the door firmly behind her, and ran herself a warm bath without a second's delay. The moment she sank into the water, she let out a soft, blissful sigh. The scent of ancient, moldy scrolls slowly drifted off her body.
Later, wrapped in fresh white robes, she sniffed her sleeves with quiet satisfaction. Clean. Pure. No more library mold smell. She flopped onto her bed with her arms spread wide, eyes closed, fully prepared to nap for an entire week—
And then immediately sat up with a jolt.
Wait. Should she try the array thing? This was the perfect chance.
No one was here to stop her. No one to judge her life choices. No collapsing bookshelves waiting in ambush. And unlike the royal library, her chamber didn't have priceless ancient scrolls lying around. Just a bed. A table. Chairs. And maybe a few slightly flammable things. But she'd be careful. Extremely careful. No fire. Definitely no explosions. Not even a little spark.
She nodded seriously to herself, already getting off the bed and rolling up her sleeves. Time to summon her inner "Desperate and Confused" cultivator.
******
Shu Mingye still sat in his study, like a statue carved out of frustration and paperwork.
The death tolls were rising too fast. They had tried every kind of medicine. Herbal, spiritual, weird powders from the north that smelled like wet socks, but none of them worked. The palace physicians had no idea what the source was. Nothing fit. Nothing made sense. The border village had been turned into an isolation camp. Every sick person was sent there, along with most of the palace's medical staff. The physicians had gone willingly but with rolled sleeves and panic in their eyes.
Days passed, and still no cure. No breakthrough. Now people were scared. Some tried to flee to nearby villages. Others packed their bags and tried to escape to different states altogether.
Shu Mingye let out a long, heavy sigh. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming softly on the armrest. His eyes, usually sharp and cold, were dark with quiet thought. Then his mind drifted traitorously to them.
The four chaotic people.
He had gotten a report earlier that they had caused a "minor disturbance" in the royal library. No one was hurt, and nothing was on fire. For them, that was basically a perfect score. Honestly, it almost impressed him. He even allowed himself a small smile. But then it disappeared immediately. It had been almost two days. Two entire days. And still no report. Not even a sarcastic comment. Not a half-hearted knock on his door followed by "Well, we didn't burn anything." Not even a hello. Hadn't he told her to give daily updates? Had she forgotten?
Before Shu Mingye could finish the thought, his body betrayed him. His legs stood up on their own. His feet started moving. His hand straightened his outer robe halfway down the hallway. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and arranged his expression into a responsible ruler with a clear purpose.
Yes. He was just going to check on her because... maybe they found something useful. That was all. They were disciples of Xuanyi Pavilion. Skilled. Resourceful. Completely ridiculous, but somehow still reliable in their own strange way. It had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn't looked for him in almost two days. Nothing at all.
Shu Mingye walked toward Linyue's chamber with a quick, graceful pace. Every step carried the elegance of a king—chin slightly raised, robe fluttering just right, expression calm and composed. That was, until he saw the white smoke. It was lazily curling out from under the door. His elegant pace shattered instantly. He bolted forward in a very undignified, king-forgetting-he's-a-king run.
There was no time for knocking. And no dramatic kicks either. He simply flung the door open like a normal, slightly panicked person.