There was no sunrise or sunset in the dungeon, only eternal gloom and the dripping sound of water. Yet the body’s rhythms remained. When Su Yu regained a sliver of consciousness, she knew at least two days had passed.
She found herself curled on her side on the stone bed, the Warm Jade Silk still clinging to her body, but its texture felt unusual—no longer consistently warm and smooth, but alternating between cold and heat, with dull, aching pain throbbing in certain areas. With great effort, she raised her hand, her fingers brushing her cheek, where she felt dried tear tracks and something… rough and patterned.
Su Yu’s breath hitched for a moment.
Struggling to sit up, she looked down at her body. The light from the glass lamp was dim, but she could still see it clearly—
On the surface of the moon-white Warm Jade Silk, dark red, vein-like patterns had emerged. These patterns spread from the area over her heart, crawling like spiderwebs across her chest, shoulders, neck, and even extending down her arms. They were slightly raised, clearly visible beneath the fabric, pulsing with an extremely faint glow that flickered in sync with her breath and heartbeat, as if something alive were slowly throbbing.
Trembling, Su Yu reached out to touch one of the patterns over her heart.
“Ah—!”
Intense pain struck instantly! Not a burning sensation on the surface of her skin, but a sharp agony that felt as if the pattern were directly connected to her nerves—or even her soul. She jerked her hand back, her body instantly drenched in cold sweat.
This pain was different from the searing heat of the Gu poison’s flare-ups. It was sharper, more… targeted.
She understood.
This wasn’t a property of the Warm Jade Silk itself, but You Li’s “handiwork”—during her unconsciousness, You Li had performed some terrible modification to this garment, or rather, to the connection between the garment and her body. These patterns were an upgrade to the surveillance, an extension of the punishment, and… a deeper brand of some kind.
As if to confirm her suspicion, the thickest pattern over her heart suddenly brightened for a moment, followed by a powerful tugging sensation. Not a physical pull, but an irresistible “summons” that seemed to originate from the depths of her soul.
Su Yu groaned, her body tilting uncontrollably toward the cell door, as though an invisible chain were fastened to her heart, its other end held in You Li’s hand, slowly tightening.
She clenched her teeth, mustering all her strength to resist the pull, but the force was too overwhelming. It disregarded her will, acting directly upon the core of her life. Like a marionette, she was dragged off the stone bed by that force and slammed heavily onto the cold floor.
The black chains clattered, limiting her range of movement but unable to stop the internal tugging. Lying prone on the ground, she gasped in disarray, watching helplessly as her body inched uncontrollably toward the cell door. The dark red patterns on the Warm Jade Silk flickered with her struggles, as if mocking her powerlessness.
“Ah… ngh…” Broken sounds escaped from deep in her throat—not pleas for mercy, but pure, instinctive agony.
Su Yu collapsed on the floor, gasping for air like a fish out of water, drenched in cold sweat and pain. The Warm Jade Silk clung tightly to her skin, the patterns still glowing faintly, though no longer active.
The cell door opened without a sound.
You Li stood outside the door, not entering. She had changed into a dark purple gown, her long hair loosely tied up with a few strands falling beside her cheeks, looking much softer than her previous battle attire. Yet the icy scrutiny in her eyes remained unchanged, even deeper, like two bottomless cold pools.
Her gaze fell upon Su Yu, sweeping over the dark red patterns that surfaced beneath the Warm Jade Silk, writhing like living things, before finally settling on Su Yu’s face, pale from pain and humiliation.
“Awake?” You Li spoke, her voice flat. “How do you feel?”
Su Yu pushed herself up, leaning against the cold stone wall, and looked up at her. She wanted to speak, to question, to curse, but her throat felt as if it had been scraped by sandpaper, only able to emit hoarse, breathy sounds.
“The ‘Blood Mark Pact’.” You Li, as if knowing what she wanted to ask, walked slowly into the cell, crouched down, and met Su Yu’s gaze at eye level. “I refined a wisp of my origin demon blood into the Warm Jade Silk, deepening its connection to your heart’s essence… to a greater extent. Now, it not only transmits your sensations but also my will.”
She extended a finger, lightly pointing toward the area over Su Yu’s heart from a distance.
“Ah—!” Su Yu arched her body violently, her heart feeling as if it were being seized and squeezed by an invisible hand. The intense, twisting pain darkened her vision, nearly suffocating her. The patterns on the Warm Jade Silk erupted in a blinding red light, casting the dim dungeon in a bloody crimson glow.
The agony lasted only three breaths.
But to Su Yu, it felt like three hundred years.
When You Li withdrew her finger, the twisting pain vanished. Su Yu collapsed to the ground, devoid of even the strength to gasp for air, trembling weakly like a dying animal. Tears mingled with cold sweat, spreading dark stains on the filthy floor.
“This is punishment, and also instruction.” You Li’s voice came from above, terrifyingly calm. “To teach you to remember who is in control. To make you understand that your petty cleverness is worthless in the face of absolute power.”
She stood up, the hem of her gown brushing against Su Yu’s cheek, carrying a cold fragrance.
“However, I am not entirely unreasonable.” You Li walked toward the stone bed and sat gracefully on its edge, as if seated upon a throne. “I give you two choices.”
Su Yu struggled to shift her gaze toward her.
“First, continue your futile resistance.” You Li spoke unhurriedly, her fingers lightly tapping the edge of the stone bed. “I will activate the ‘Blood Mark Pact’ three times a day—at dawn, noon, and midnight. Each time lasting a quarter of an hour. You will experience pain ten times more intense than what you just felt, until your will completely shatters or your heart can no longer endure and ruptures. Of course, I will control the intensity. I won’t let you die. Death would be too merciful for you.”
Su Yu’s body trembled uncontrollably. Just that single moment earlier had already brought her unbearable agony. Three times a day, each lasting a quarter of an hour, and even more intense… It would be a true hell, an endless torture.
“Second,” You Li paused, her crimson eyes locking onto Su Yu, “abandon that ridiculous persistence of yours and open yourself completely to me. Not just your body, but your heart, your memories, everything you have—including that faint light of your Dao Foundation. Let me enter your consciousness sea, let me truly ‘share’ everything with you. I will remove ‘Love’s Entanglement,’ undo the ‘Blood Mark Pact,’ and even grant you a certain degree of freedom. You can wear normal clothes, move freely within this dungeon, and even… occasionally take walks in the garden.”
She leaned down, drawing close to Su Yu, her voice lowered to a seductive whisper: “You only need to give one thing in return—complete trust and eternal loyalty. Become my shadow, my extension, my… other half.”
Two choices, both leading to an abyss.
The first was endless physical and spiritual torment until she became nothing but an empty shell, capable only of screaming in agony.
The second was the complete sacrifice of her soul, the utter death of her identity as “Su Yu,” transforming her into an appendage of You Li, a puppet devoid of self-will.
Su Yu closed her eyes, tears silently tracing down her cheeks.
She thought of her master, of the mountain gate of Xuan Yu Zong, of Qing Li’s innocent smile beneath the peach blossom tree. Those memories flickered before her like faded scrolls, warm yet distant and unreal.
Then she remembered the faint light deep within her dantian, the secret hope she harbored while secretly practicing heartbeat control, and the wild idea of “reverse influencing” the Warm Jade Silk.
All that effort, all that struggle, all the hope that had sprouted in the depths of despair… in the face of You Li’s absolute power, it truly seemed like a child’s toy, laughable and pitiful.
Despair, like icy seawater, surged from all sides, drowning her.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but only a broken whisper escaped.
You Li waited patiently. She was in no hurry. She knew that when a person was pushed to the brink, when all escape routes were sealed, when hope was utterly crushed, the only choice was to grasp the hand extended—even if that hand belonged to a devil.
Time passed in dead silence. Only the drip of water droplets and Su Yu’s faint, painful gasps filled the air.
After what felt like an eternity, Su Yu slowly raised a trembling hand.
She did not point to either choice but instead reached toward You Li.
That hand, which had once wielded a sword to slay demons, plucked the strings of a zither with grace, and formed seals to cast spells, was now covered in dust and bloodstains, its nails broken and fingertips torn, trembling uncontrollably. Yet, inch by inch, it stretched toward You Li’s hand hanging at her side.
Just before her fingertips were about to touch the back of You Li’s hand, Su Yu’s hand froze.
She lifted her head, her tear-blurred eyes gazing at You Li, her lips trembling as she mustered every ounce of strength to utter a few barely audible words:
“Qing Li… I’m scared…”
Not “You Li,” but “Qing Li.”
Not a plea for mercy, not surrender, but the same words spoken years ago on a stormy night by the little junior sister who had crawled into her bed, voice choked with tears.
You Li’s body trembled, almost imperceptibly.
Deep within her crimson eyes, the frozen, icy depths seemed to crack with a barely visible fissure. Something flickered beneath that crack—was it pain? A memory? Or…
She looked at Su Yu’s outstretched hand, at that face streaked with tears and despair, at those eyes that were once as clear and cold as the moon but now shattered like glass.
Then, slowly, she reached out and took Su Yu’s hand.
“I know.” You Li’s voice carried the faintest tremor for the first time. “So, choose.”
She did not shake off that hand, nor did she grip it tighter. She simply held it, like a ritual, or like a trap.
Su Yu felt the icy touch transmitted through her palm, sensed the faint pulse of the Blood Mark Pact beneath the Warm Jade Silk, and felt her own heart beating slowly and heavily in despair.
She knew that no matter which choice she made, the Sheng Nu named “Su Yu” would die here today.
The only difference lay in whether she would die in endless agony or in a gentle puppet’s dream.
Su Yu’s tears fell continuously onto their clasped hands—cold, salty, like her own dying heart.