The afternoon sun shines through the stained glass on the dome of the Imperial Library, casting variegated light spots on the yellowed ancient books. Su Xiaoxiao was standing on tiptoe, putting a thick stack of "Ancient Chronicles" back on the top bookshelf. As soon as her fingertips touched the edge of the bookshelf, a sudden dizziness swept over her body. He staggered and held on to the bookshelf. The wooden texture coming from his fingertips suddenly became blurry. Countless whispers seemed to ring in his ears, as if something was rushing in along his meridians.
"What the hell..." Su Xiaoxiao cursed in a low voice, and a thin layer of cold sweat broke out on her forehead. He is the administrator of the Royal Library. He has been doing this for three years. He works with ancient books every day. He is most familiar with the plants and trees here. He has never encountered such a strange situation. He tried to steady his mind, but it felt like a cold machine was being stuffed into his mind, buzzing.
