Three people stood silently at the entrance of this dilapidated house, gazing around. There wasn't a single wandering spirit or earthly fairy to be seen nearby.
"Sis Bai, have you been here before?"
"No, I've only heard legends of the Legend Management Bureau, but I've never actually come here."
Legend Management Bureau, Branch Office in the Underworld.
The name sounded somewhat official, but the decrepit atmosphere was baffling.
"Our mission is to send Du Yu in… Just standing outside won't do." As she spoke, Xie Jin reached out toward the door.
Du Yu glanced at the shabby house and suddenly felt reluctant to enter.
"If you push open the door and find it's not what you expected—would you still go in?"
A hazy voice suddenly echoed behind them. The three spun around sharply. An elderly man with snow-white hair stood there, expression kind, his age indiscernible. Clad in a plain suit, he seemed to have been waiting there all along.
He didn't look at Xie Jin or Fan Xiaoguo, instead walking straight to Du Yu.
"If it's not as you wish—would you still enter?"
Du Yu stared at the old man, unsure of his intent. The elder continued, "If you don't enter, will Cui Jue still remember you?"
Du Yu furrowed his brow, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "Sir, are you saying…"
The old man nodded. "You're sharp. Cause precedes effect—this is 'karma.' Our time is pressing. Come in; we've waited a long time for you."
Before entering, the old man glanced back at Du Yu. "A long time? But I've only been dead for two or three hours…"
"Two or three hours?" The old man paused at the threshold. "No. Not two or three hours. We've waited nine hundred years."
The three followed cautiously. Inside, the space expanded dramatically. From the outside, it had looked like a public restroom-sized shack, but within, it was vast. The room was built entirely of pure white stone, bustling with dozens of people moving in and out. What astounded them most was that the entire space was lined with screens, each playing incomprehensible events.
On one screen, a colossal giant split heaven and earth, his body becoming mountains and rivers; on another, a diminutive monkey wielded a massive staff, bobbing unsteadily as he soared through the clouds; over there, a frail woman sat beneath the Great Wall, wailing, her sobs somehow shattering the entire structure.
Xie Jin and Fan Xiaoguo craned their necks to look. All the screens showed familiar or unfamiliar legends unfolding.
"So the Legend Management Bureau really has been working all this time?"
"Exactly. Every legend that has ever occurred lingers, becoming a 'cell' of the world. Our world is made up of countless such cells." The white-haired elder spoke earnestly.
"But you know—cells can 'fall ill.' When a legend sickens, it follows a different ending. Even minor changes to history can spawn new beings we call 'anomalies,' which subtly alter the world. Like your death today."
Du Yu looked confused, then thoughtful.
"Ah!" Xie Jin chimed in. "Today, you offered Zhou Zhuangshi your seat—he should have accepted, per the Book of Life and Death. But he saw an anomaly in the backseat and didn't take it, choosing to stand with her instead. These anomalies throw off even the Book of Life and Death."
"Right. If a cell is slightly diseased, it produces anomalies. If it's gravely ill, our world could collapse. For example—if one day, Pangu suddenly decided not to separate heaven and earth, what would happen to us?"
"But…" Du Yu protested. "Even if Pangu refused, there's nothing we could do—it was ages ago!"
"Good question, little warrior." The elder stroked his beard, patting Du Yu's shoulder.
"Little warrior?"
"That's our role: to 'intervene' in legends. For minor discrepancies, we can use 'mystical guidance'—but even without it, small errors rarely cause harm. For legends that are critically ill, though, we must temporarily seal them away and wait for a 'cure.'"
"A cure?" Du Yu thought he understood. "We use a cure to heal the legend?"
"Exactly. But it's not that you 'find' the cure—it's that you are the cure."
"Wait, I'm the cure? What's going on?"
"Apologies for the confusion," interjected a sharp-eyed woman in a sleek black jumpsuit, her hair perfectly styled with not a strand out of place. "The director has a touch of dementia—he mistook you for someone else."
"Who… who are you?" Xie Jin asked.
"Greetings. I'm Dong Qianqiu, Deputy Director of the Legend Management Bureau."
"Deputy Director? So you're the second-in-command here?" Du Yu eyed her, noting her meticulous appearance—no speck of dust on her jumpsuit.
"I might be senile, but I haven't forgotten my duties. I'm the current director, He Suo." The old man smiled, then turned to Xie Jin and Fan Xiaoguo. "Bian'an, Wu Jiu—you've done well. Report back to the Yama Lords and give them my regards."
"Th-this is too much!" they stammered. "We're just descendants of the ancients…"
"You don't need to explain. I understand." Du Yu said. "My mission is to help heal these sick legends, right?"
"Not exactly 'help find'—you are the cure," He Suo clarified.
"Me… a cure? How?"
"No time for details," Dong Qianqiu said, flipping through a file. "Succinctly: A sealed legend is about to break. If its story veers off course, our world may perish. We need you to enter the legend and set it back on track."
Du Yu froze. Though he grasped the meaning, it was far beyond his expectations.
"Eighty-one years ago, we discovered a deviant legend and sealed it. Now the seal is failing. If the legend's ending changes, our world could be destroyed." Dong Qianqiu pulled Du Yu toward a machine, attaching tubes to him.
"W-wait, I'm a science major—I know nothing about history or legends. And we're doing this now? I have so many questions!" Du Yu's voice trembled. He'd heard from Cui Jue that this was extremely dangerous. He glanced at Xie Jin and Fan Xiaoguo. "You guys have to help me. Otherwise, you can't complete the mission either, right?"
Xie Jin and Fan Xiaoguo shook their heads helplessly. Their family creeds, first and foremost: Unconditionally assist the Legend Management Bureau.
"There's no time for training. This seal will break in an hour. You must enter the legend and resolve it within seven days—or…" Dong Qianqiu's gaze darkened.
"Or what?"
He Suo stroked his beard, his tone grave. "Or you'll perish in the past, and we'll perish in the future."
That dire? Du Yu had thought only he was at risk, not the entire world.
"One last question," Du Yu said. "Which legend am I entering?"
Dong Qianqiu snapped his fingers. A screen materialized before Du Yu, showing a tanned, burly man in ragged clothes, hoe in hand, sweating as he tilled the fields. Above him blazed ten suns.
"Shooting Down the Nine Suns"? Du Yu couldn't believe his eyes. "This is a legend I can interfere with?"
"Precisely. Normally, Yi the Archer receives divine guidance at eleven, attains semi-immortality after a decade of cultivation, and shoots down the nine suns at twenty-one to save the world. Understand?"
"W-wait!" Du Yu felt like he'd been during college exams. "Which part of the legend is off?"
Dong Qianqiu adjusted his glasses. "Yi never received the divine guidance. He remained a mortal all the way to twenty-one."
Du Yu let out a bitter laugh. "So I'm a mortal, and I have to help another mortal shoot down nine suns?"
"Exactly."
He'd thought it was tough—this was hell mode. If he could choose again, he'd wait seven hundred years. At least then he'd avoid annihilation and stay a rich kid.
"I remember in elementary school, the nine suns were giant birds…"
"Unfortunately," Dong Qianqiu said, "our colleagues confirmed that all ten three-legged crows are still perched on the Fusang Tree, unresponsive. So… you'll have to figure out how to shoot them down yourself."
"What?!"
"We'll assist as much as possible." Dong Qianqiu handed him a menu-like list. "You can bring two spirits from the deceased into the legend—they can possess you for up to five minutes each."
Du Yu scanned the list. It was packed with names: historical figures, legendary heroes, mostly mortals. He wondered how useful they'd be. Even with great power, five minutes wasn't enough to shoot down nine suns.
Even if I brought Sun Wukong…
Wait. Du Yu squinted. The list included Sun Wukong, the Victorious Fighting Buddha.
"Is Sun Wukong dead?" he blurted.
"No, but when he achieved Buddhahood, he discarded his seven souls. We took one."
Du Yu brightened. Sun Wukong—five minutes of his power. Even if he couldn't shoot down all nine, taking out one would make the legend "Yi Shoots Down One Sun," which might work.
"Great, Sun Wukong's the first. Who's the second?"
He studied the list again. Most entries were ordinary people. Without immense power, they'd be useless in Yi's story.
No matter who I choose, it's impossible…
"I recommend one," He Suo said, sitting beside him. "A quest this difficult must have a loophole. Strength alone won't solve it."
He pointed to a name: Zhuge Kongming, the Sleeping Dragon, Prime Minister of Han.
"Sometimes, you need wits."
Du Yu stared at the name. Wits? How could Zhuge Liang, even in five minutes, design and build an intercontinental missile to shoot down the suns?
"Quickly, please," Dong Qianqiu said, growing impatient.
"O-okay." Du Yu sighed, scribbling a checkmark beside Zhuge Kongming.
"Good." Dong Qianqiu turned to a staffer. "Fetch the spirits and prepare the soul-transfer kit. The rest, start the soul-migration process."
The bureau buzzed to life. Machines hummed, screens flared, and staff moved with urgency.
This was really happening.
A few hours ago, he'd been scrolling his phone on the bus. Now, he was about to enter a legend.
"Remember: If you fail to resolve the legend in seven days, the nine suns will blaze forever, destroying both the past and our world."
Dong Qianqiu adjusted the strange headset. Du Yu felt a tearing sensation in his skull—and then darkness.