The roast chicken was greasy, slightly burnt on the left wing, and arguably the most delicious thing Su Ye had ever tasted.
He sat on the edge of a moth-eaten straw mattress in the servants' quarters, tearing into the meat with a savagery that would have made the Thunderfire Lion proud. His current body—this scrawny, underfed frame of "Su Ye, the Dung Scooper"—was screaming for calories.
"Delicious," Su Ye mumbled, wiping oil from his chin with a ragged sleeve. "If I knew almost dying would get me a meal like this, I would have punched a lion sooner."
The servants' quarters were a far cry from the opulent Beast Hall above. It was a damp, subterranean bunker that smelled of mildew and unwashed bodies. Snores echoed from the other bunks, but Su Ye was wide awake.
He tossed the cleaned chicken bone onto a growing pile and leaned back against the cold stone wall.
"Alright," he whispered to the empty air. "Let's figure this out."
He closed his eyes and focused. He tried to summon the majestic, burning image of the Golden-Eyed Heavenly Lion Emperor again.
Nothing happened. Just the darkness of his own eyelids and the lingering headache that felt like a hangover.
"Is it proximity based?" Su Ye mused. "Do I have to be touching the beast?"
He looked around the room. There were no beasts here. Just snoring men and...
His eyes landed on a crack in the stone floor. A pair of long, twitching antennae poked out. A cockroach, the size of a thumb, skittered tentatively into the open, drawn by the scent of the chicken bones.
Su Ye didn't recoil. As a former zookeeper, he had handled giant centipedes and hissing roaches daily. He slowly reached out a finger.
"Come here, little buddy. Let's test a theory."
The cockroach froze as Su Ye's finger pressed gently against its carapace.
Zzzzt.
The sensation was weaker this time—like a static shock from a doorknob rather than a lightning bolt—but the shift in perspective was instantaneous.
The damp room vanished. Su Ye's consciousness was pulled into a dark, swirling void.
Floating in front of him was not a majestic lion, but a shadowy, writhing dragon made of black smoke and purple scales. Its eyes were narrow slits of ancient cunning.
"WHO DARES DISTURB THE SLUMBER OF THE VOID DRAGON EMPEROR?"
The voice was high-pitched and squeaky, like someone inhaling helium, but the tone was incredibly haughty.
Su Ye stared at the "Dragon." He looked closer. The "scales" were just the segments of a bug's shell. The "smoke" was just dust.
"You're... the cockroach?" Su Ye asked, his mental voice dripping with skepticism.
"INSOLENCE!" The Cockroach-Dragon hissed. "I am the Terror of the Cracks! The Shadow that Skitters! My bloodline traces back to the Primordial Void Dragon that ate the sun! Do you have any crumbs? I require tribute!"
Su Ye rolled his eyes. "So, let me get this straight. You think you're a dragon because you live in the dark and eat trash?"
"WE ARE SURVIVORS!" the spirit shrieked. "Meteors fell, dinosaurs died, empires crumbled! But WE remain! That is the Dragon's resilience! Now, hand over the chicken skin, hairless ape, or I shall infest your bedding!"
Su Ye pulled his finger away. The vision snapped.
The cockroach was just a cockroach again, wiggling its antennae at the bone pile.
"Okay," Su Ye muttered, rubbing his temples. "So, it works on anything living. And apparently, every animal in this world has an ancestor with a massive ego."
He flicked a piece of chicken skin toward the roach. "Here. Eat up, Dragon Emperor."
The roach pounced on the scrap and dragged it back into the crack.
Su Ye sat back, analyzing the data.
Limit 1: Physical contact seems necessary.
Limit 2: It drains mental energy. I feel tired.
Limit 3: The information isn't just data; it's a conversation. I have to filter through the personality of the 'Ancestor' to get the facts.
The Lion Emperor had mentioned "Flaws" and medical conditions. The Cockroach had mentioned its "Bloodline." This meant Su Ye had access to a biological database that no other Tamer in this world possessed.
While regular Tamers used trial and error, expensive manuals, and abuse, Su Ye could just ask the animal's great-grandfather what was wrong.
"This is a cheat," Su Ye grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "A game-breaking cheat."
BANG!
The wooden door to the quarters flew open, slamming against the stone wall with enough force to wake the dead.
"Su Ye! Get your lazy carcass up!"
Steward Liu stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the torchlight from the hallway. His face was a mask of malicious glee. Behind him stood two burly enforcers holding wooden staves.
Su Ye sighed, dusting off his hands. "Can't a man digest his reward in peace? I saved your job today, Liu."
"Saved my job?" Steward Liu marched into the room, kicking the pile of chicken bones aside. "You humiliated Master Mo! Do you know what happens to servants who humiliate their masters? They disappear."
"Is that a threat?" Su Ye stood up. He was thin, but he stood straight. The Lion Emperor's lingering influence made his posture surprisingly imposing.
"It's a transfer," Liu sneered. "Master Mo is... benevolent. He decided not to execute you for your insolence. Instead, he has reassigned you."
The other servants, who had woken up and were peeking from their blankets, gasped.
"Reassigned?" one whispered. "Is it the latrines?"
"Worse," another muttered. "The Feeding Pit?"
Steward Liu grinned, his yellow teeth flashing in the dim light.
"You are to report immediately to the Twilight Stable."
The room went deathly silent. Even the snores stopped.
Su Ye frowned. He searched the memories of the original owner of this body.
The Twilight Stable. Located on the far east cliff of the Beast Hall grounds. It wasn't a stable; it was a hospice. It was where the Hall dumped beasts that were too old to fight, too sick to cure, or too broken to sell.
But that wasn't why it was feared. It was feared because if a beast died on your watch, the value of the beast was deducted from your wages. Since even a dying Spirit Beast was worth thousands of gold coins, a single death meant a servant would be in debt for ten lifetimes. It was a slavery trap.
"I see," Su Ye said calmly. "Master Mo wants to bury me in debt so he can legally sell me to the mines later."
"Smart boy," Liu chuckled. "But it's an official order. Refuse, and you'll be beaten for insubordination. Accept, and you might live... for a week. Pack your things."
Su Ye looked at the malicious Steward, then at the terrified faces of his roommates.
He smiled.
"No need to pack. I travel light."
Su Ye stepped forward, walking right past Steward Liu. As he passed, he leaned in and whispered.
"By the way, Steward Liu. You have a fungal infection on your left foot. It's why you limp when it rains. You might want to wash your boots more often."
Liu froze, his face turning beet red. "You... how did you...?"
But Su Ye was already walking out the door, whistling a tune.
"To the Twilight Stable then! I've always liked retirement homes. The stories are better."
The trek to the Twilight Stable took an hour. The path wound away from the polished marble and gold statues of the main academy, leading up a steep, overgrown trail toward the windy cliffs.
The sun was setting, casting long, bruised shadows across the mountain.
When Su Ye arrived, he found a dilapidated compound surrounded by a rotting wooden fence. The gate hung off one hinge. Weeds grew waist-high in the courtyard.
"Charming," Su Ye muttered. "A real fixer-upper."
He pushed the gate open. Creak.
The courtyard was lined with run-down sheds and rusted cages. The air here was different. It didn't smell of aggression and power like the main hall. It smelled of dust, old medicine, and despair.
"Hello?" Su Ye called out. "I'm the new warden. Don't everyone cheer at once."
Silence answered him.
He walked past a cage containing a Wind-Chasing Wolf. The wolf was missing an eye and half a leg. It lay on its side, panting shallowly, its fur gray and matted.
He walked past a Scarlet Hawk that had lost all its feathers. It looked like a plucked chicken, shivering in the corner.
Su Ye's heart sank slightly. This wasn't just a dumping ground; it was a graveyard. These animals were suffering.
"Hey! You!"
A voice croaked from the shadow of the main barn.
Su Ye turned. A hunched old man hobbled out. He wore robes that were more patch than cloth, and he held a broom like a weapon.
"Who are you?" the old man wheezed. "Thieves? There's nothing to steal! The beasts are dying!"
"I'm not a thief," Su Ye said, bowing slightly out of respect for the elderly. "I'm Su Ye. Reassigned from the West Wing."
The old man squinted at him, then spat on the ground. "Reassigned? Hah! You mean exiled. Another scapegoat for the slaughter."
"Something like that," Su Ye admitted. "Who are you?"
"I am Uncle Chen," the old man grunted. "I sweep the leaves. If you're here to take care of the beasts, good luck. There's no food, no medicine, and the Obsidian Tortoise hasn't eaten in three years. It will likely die tonight."
"Obsidian Tortoise?" Su Ye raised an eyebrow.
"The Big Guy," Uncle Chen pointed a trembling finger toward the largest enclosure at the back of the compound. It was a massive stone pit filled with stagnant water. "Former guardian beast of the Sect Leader. It retired ten years ago. Stopped eating three years ago. Everyone says it's pining for its master."
Su Ye walked over to the pit.
Inside, submerged halfway in the murky green water, was a shell the size of a small house. It was black as volcanic glass, covered in moss and algae. The head of the tortoise was pulled deep inside the shell. There was zero movement. No aura. No breathing.
"Master Mo came by yesterday," Uncle Chen muttered, following him. "He declared that its life force is exhausted. He's already preparing the paperwork to blame the next caretaker when it passes."
"Is that so?" Su Ye hopped onto the stone railing of the pit.
"Get down!" Chen hissed. "It's a Spirit Beast! Even dying, it can snap your leg off!"
"It won't," Su Ye said softly.
He looked at the giant, silent shell. In his previous life, tortoises were his favorite. They were misunderstood. People thought they were slow and stupid, but they were just observant.
Su Ye jumped down into the pit. Splash. The water soaked his boots.
He waded through the muck until he was standing right next to the massive, mossy shell. He placed his hand on the cold, rough surface of the carapace.
"Hello, old timer," Su Ye whispered. "Let's see why you're on a hunger strike."
Zzzzt.
The connection slammed into place. It was heavier than the Lion. It felt like a mountain descending on Su Ye's mind.
The grey world appeared.
But this time, there was no shouting. No arrogant roaring.
Su Ye stood on a vast, flat island in the middle of a black ocean. The sky was filled with stars that didn't twinkle.
In front of him sat a figure.
It was an old man. Or... a tortoise that looked like an old man? It was a Black Tortoise (Xuanwu), massive and ancient, with a snake coiled around its body. But instead of looking majestic, the Tortoise Ancestor was wearing a pair of reading glasses and holding a cup of tea.
It looked at Su Ye with eyes that contained eons of boredom.
"Oh," the Tortoise Ancestor said slowly. His voice sounded like rocks grinding together in slow motion. "A visitor. It has been... five hundred years since someone knocked."
"Greetings, Senior," Su Ye bowed respectfully in the mental space. "I am Su Ye."
"Su Ye..." The Tortoise took a sip of tea. "You want to know why my descendant is dying, yes?"
"Is it dying?" Su Ye asked. "Uncle Chen says it's pining for its master."
The Tortoise Ancestor let out a laugh. It was a dry, rasping sound. "Pining? Hah. My descendants do not pine. We outlive everything. Why would we pine for ephemeral humans?"
"Then why isn't it eating?"
The Tortoise Ancestor sighed, a sound that created ripples in the black ocean.
"Because he is sulking."
"Sulking?" Su Ye blinked.
"Yes. Three years ago, the Sect Leader—that flashy fellow with the bad haircut—remodeled the garden. He moved my grandson from the South Pond to this... dump."
"The South Pond had a heated rock," the Ancestor explained, his voice full of righteous grievance. "A perfect, smooth, sun-warmed basalt rock positioned exactly at a 45-degree angle to the morning sun. My grandson spent fifty years perfecting the groove in his shell to fit that rock."
Su Ye stared. "So... he's on a hunger strike because... they took his rock?"
"It is not just a rock!" The Tortoise Ancestor snapped, moving surprisingly fast to slam his tea cup down. "It is about Feng Shui! It is about comfort! Do you know how hard it is to get comfortable when you weigh four tons? This new pit is damp. It is cold. And the floor is uneven! It is poking his belly!"
"He is refusing to eat until they bring back the Heated Basalt Rock. But these idiots keep trying to feed him 'Spirit Ginseng' and 'Dragon Pills.' He doesn't want pills! He wants lumbar support!"
Su Ye started to laugh. He couldn't help it.
The great, tragic mystery of the dying Guardian Beast was... a lack of ergonomic furniture.
"You laugh," the Tortoise Ancestor grumbled. "But back pain is the enemy of cultivation. Fix the rock, boy. And throw in some spicy squid. He hates ginseng. It tastes like dirt."
The vision faded.
Su Ye opened his eyes. He was back in the muddy pit. Uncle Chen was staring at him with horror, expecting the tortoise to wake up and eat him.
Su Ye patted the giant shell affectionately.
"I hear you, big guy," Su Ye whispered. "Bad mattress. I get it."
He climbed out of the pit.
"Well?" Uncle Chen asked, shaking his head. "Did you say your goodbyes? We should start digging the grave. The ground is hard here."
"Put the shovel away, Uncle Chen," Su Ye said, wringing the water out of his robe. "He's not dying. He's just throwing a tantrum."
"A... what?"
"Uncle Chen," Su Ye asked, looking around the junk pile of the courtyard. "Do we have any firewood? And a large, flat rock? And maybe some squid?"
"Squid?" Uncle Chen looked at him like he was insane. "Boy, this is a crisis, not a barbecue!"
"Just trust me," Su Ye grinned. "I'm going to perform a miracle cure. But first, I need to heat up a rock."
[System Triggered: New Quest - The Art of Nap Taking]
Objective: Cure the Obsidian Tortoise's insomnia.
Reward: The Black Tortoise's Breathing Technique (Iron Defense).
Su Ye's grin widened.
Master Mo thought he sent Su Ye here to die. He thought this place was a graveyard.
He was wrong.
To Su Ye, this place was a treasure trove. A buffet of neglected, misunderstood gods waiting to be awakened.
"Steward Liu," Su Ye muttered to himself as he picked up a rusty axe to chop wood. "You sent me to the trash heap. But you forgot one thing."
"One man's trash is another man's... tank."
He swung the axe. Thwack.
The revolution of the Beast Hall had officially begun.
Meanwhile, in the opulent office of the West Wing.
Master Mo sat behind his mahogany desk, nursing a cup of wine. His hands were still shaking slightly from the encounter with the Lion.
"Is it done?" he asked without looking up.
Steward Liu bowed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yes, Master. He is in the Twilight Stable. I gave him the Obsidian Tortoise assignment. The beast is on its last breath. When it dies tonight, Su Ye will be held responsible for the loss of a Guardian Beast. The law states... execution."
Master Mo nodded slowly. A cruel smile touched his lips.
"Good. A peasant who thinks he can speak beast language... he is a danger to the order of things. We cannot have lucky fools undermining our authority."
"By tomorrow morning," Master Mo said, raising his cup, "Su Ye will be history."
CRACK.
Suddenly, the window of the office shattered inward.
A massive, glowing shape flew through the room, smashing into the opposite wall.
Master Mo jumped up, spilling his wine. "Assassins?!"
He looked at the object embedded in the wall.
It was... a rock. A large, flat, basalt rock.
Wrapped around it was a piece of ragged cloth with writing scrawled in charcoal:
"PROPERTY OF THE TWILIGHT STABLE. WE ARE TAKING THIS BACK. - SU YE."
Master Mo stared at the rock. He stared at the hole in his window.
From the distant cliffs of the East Wing, a sound echoed through the night. It wasn't a roar of anger.
It was the deep, thunderous boom of a massive tortoise... burping in satisfaction.