Chapter 10 Magnetic Senses, Mr. Yi of Little Lotus Manor

Su Yi glanced at the money on the table, paused, and put it away. She tried again and again, seeking that sensation. It seemed that whenever she touched the pocket with her palm, an image of its interior would slowly form in her mind—not as if she saw it with the corner of her eye, but as if she sensed it from all directions with her mind... It was like three-dimensional photography.

“Perhaps it’s just my imagination... Yet some things in this world are continuous, linked by cause and effect. Could this strange feeling be connected to what happened yesterday?”

Su Yi touched her left palm, thought for a moment, and then used her right hand to explore the pocket. As expected, the sensation was gone.

Yet memory etches itself onto the mind. Whenever she willed it, the former image would still surface. She decided to try a different experiment.

She found a book on the shelf, placed her right hand upon it, calmed her mind, and sought that familiar feeling...

There was no reaction for quite a while.

After a silence, she switched to her left hand—instantly, the cover was penetrated, and the first page appeared before her. The characters danced in her mind as if alive...

The scent of ink—that was the aroma held within each character.

“Preface to the Orchid Pavilion...” she murmured, gazing down at the cover. It was a collection of ancient poetry, seemingly classical, suffused with the fragrance of antiquity. She opened to the first white page, upon which the Preface to the Orchid Pavilion was handwritten.

Every stroke elegant and refined, the script peerless in its clarity.

Her palm swept over it again... the image pierced further... The Memorial of Departure, Song of the Water, piece after piece of China’s most treasured classical poetry emerged before her. She felt like a child, “guessing” the next poem in advance, and each time, she guessed correctly...

By the fourth poem, a sharp pain shot through her palm, an aching sting spreading through her body, her fingers convulsing.

It seemed something within her had grown barren.

“Is this... magnetic sensation?”

After several attempts, the term suddenly popped into Su Yi’s mind, and soon another concept followed.

“Heaven, earth, and humanity each possess their own magnetic field: celestial magnetism, the force of cosmic creation; terrestrial magnetism, the spirit of all living things; human magnetism, the energy of culture and might that defies fate.”

Su Yi was not someone who subscribed solely to materialism, nor did she indulge in fantasy, but facts spoke louder than rhetoric. Yesterday’s events—either she was possessed, or the strange properties of the mirror had somehow transferred to her.

“Heaven, earth, and people all possess magnetic fields—indeed, science says as much. Yet even the most advanced instruments cannot detect such fields, but I can? A magnetic sensation for the energy of writing?”

She questioned herself, unconsciously touching the book. After a brief rest, it seemed a thread of energy had gathered in her palm.

The energy of human magnetism arose from the cultural spirit in defiance of fate; the magnetic fields from those characters allowed her to sense it.

In that instant, she had her answer—she truly could.

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Before leaving, Su Yi gathered her loose hair and tied it up with an elastic, making herself neat and fresh as she stepped out, her face showing no trace of anything unusual.

“Sir, I take my leave...” She bid farewell to her host; this etiquette she still remembered.

The man’s response was indifferent; he glanced at her, nodded, and as Su Yi turned to leave with a casual air, he arched an eyebrow.

“For someone who saved your life, you just walk away? You don’t ask who your savior is, nor do you plan to repay the debt?”

Though he had no intention of asking this girl for gratitude, her detached attitude unsettled him.

He had always been the one cold to others, never had anyone been colder to him.

And this coldness was directed at him.

Perhaps she would prove interesting.

“Hm?” Su Yi turned, holding her battered school uniform at her side, glanced at him strangely, thought for a moment, and replied, “This is Little Lotus Manor...”

At first, she hadn’t known, but after seeing the layout and the demeanor of master and servant, how could she not guess this was the cultural heart of Nanxun Ancient Town?

Little Lotus Manor, famed for its gentle elegance, it was said the lotuses here bloomed twice a year—summer and winter in full blossom, spring and autumn in remembrance—a lotus for every thought.

Yet it was not an official cultural site, but a private one.

Perhaps, besides wealth, it wielded greater power than the luxury villas of Nanxun Ancient Town!

“See through it?” From a few lines of conversation, the man confirmed Su Yi was no fool. “So?”

“I have no ability now. When I do, I’ll return to Little Lotus Manor.”

“Is your savior Little Lotus Manor?”

“No.”

“Then you only remember Little Lotus Manor? Will you come back someday to bow before its gates in thanks?”

“In that case, I should bow to your fishing hook instead.”

Su Yi ultimately left. The man’s playful arrogance faded, replaced by a noble elegance that radiated from his very bones. Even dressed in modern shirt and trousers, he looked as though he belonged amidst picturesque landscapes, holding that book, embodying a lasting grace...

The woman behind him lowered her eyes and voice, saying, “Mr. Yi, her clothes were cut by a three-inch blade, stained with a little blood—likely dried blood from an earlier wound. Yet her body bears no trace of injury, utterly clean.”

“Is that so? Strange indeed...” Mr. Yi turned his head, gazing at the pond of lotuses, his expression indifferent. Strange? It was indeed strange...

After a pause, the woman, unsure why, added, “After changing clothes she’s not quite as before, seems greatly changed, but she certainly looks better.”

Better?

A ripple of light softened Mr. Yi’s cold, indifferent gaze. He picked up his coffee, his voice colder than the porcelain cup: “The clothes are fine, the person is not.”

The woman: “...”

“And her temper isn’t good either—stubborn and proud, yet never yielding. Girls like that are difficult, not likable.”

For Mr. Yi to call someone difficult, she must truly be hard to please. As for her temper...

The woman smiled gently. Temper? She thought the young girl, though cold, was not ungrateful.

Perhaps their tempers simply clashed.

So Mr. Yi would never admit that the girl looked truly beautiful in those simple clothes.

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“Mr. Yi of Little Lotus Manor, I think I’ve seen a news report about him before... His name is...”

As Su Yi left Little Lotus Manor, she passed the famous Library Pavilion of Nanxun Ancient Town. It was then she realized that Little Lotus Manor and the Library Pavilion stood side by side, with no other buildings nearby. They were like two symbols, occupying the finest geomantic ground in southern Nanxun.

Surrounded on all sides by water, Su Yi carried money with her, yet having fled so inexplicably last night, she had no desire to go to the crowded port to take a ferry. Instead, she boarded a small boat and leisurely crossed to the county town opposite, and it was during this gentle journey that she saw the misty, rain-soaked lotus bloom.

Clumps of water grass receded behind her as Su Yi gazed for a moment, then turned to look at the town ahead—a place that did not belong to her, at least not yet.

Little Lotus Manor, Library Pavilion—she felt certain she would return.