Su Yu’s fingertips dug fiercely into the soft fabric of the smoke-purple dress. The cold glow of the moonlit moss seemed to grow sharper at this moment, casting the faint rouge that You Li had meticulously applied to her face like a mask of falsehood. You Li’s words cruelly sliced away the last shred of her dignity.
“Serve… you?”
“Yes.” You Li’s reply was light as a feather, yet heavy as a thousand weights. She maintained her posture, still lifting Su Yu’s chin, her crimson eyes devoid of any hint of jest.
“Dressing me, combing my hair, serving tea… or anything else I require of you.” Her gaze swept meaningfully over Su Yu’s trembling lips. “You were once the Sheng Nu of Xuan Yu Zong. Surely, you are no stranger to such ‘delicate’ tasks of serving others.”
“Only, before, you served your sect, served your righteous path. Now,” she pressed her fingertips slightly harder, forcing Su Yu to tilt her head further back, “serve me.”
Su Yu’s breath caught. “Serve”—this word, in her past life, had meant reverence, duty, and devout devotion to her elders, her sect, and the Great Dao.
But from You Li’s lips, it took on an entirely different, humiliating, and ambiguous hue. It was no longer an offering of respect between equals but a one-sided act of submission, marked by a clear power dynamic…
She wanted to refuse. To hurl the dress into You Li’s face, to scream her final defiance into those crimson eyes. But the words lodged in her throat, unable to escape.
Because the price You Li offered was “to go outside and see.”
For someone who had been imprisoned in eternal darkness for an unknowable length of time, these few words held a fatal allure. She yearned for sunlight—even if it was the eerie, blood-red sunlight of the Demon Realm; for fresh air—even if it was tainted with sulfur and blood; to see anything other than stone walls and dripping water—even if it was a deeper cage.
This desire was so primal, so overwhelming, that it instantly shattered the fragile defenses she had built from numbness and despair.
She lowered her gaze, avoiding You Li’s scrutinizing eyes. Her long lashes cast fragile shadows on her pale cheeks. Her body remained rigid, but the fingers clutching the dress loosened almost imperceptibly.
You Li keenly detected this subtle shift. She released her grip on Su Yu’s chin, took a step back, and reestablished a slight distance, waiting with composed ease. Like an experienced hunter, she watched her trapped prey struggle in its final throes.
“Put it on.” You Li gestured again to the smoke-purple dress, her tone returning to its flatness, yet carrying even greater pressure than before. “Let me see how the Sheng Nu of Xuan Yu Zong ‘serves’ others.”
Su Yu’s nails dug deep into the soft fabric. Slowly, she raised her head to look at You Li. You Li had turned her back to her, walking to the small table and sitting down. She casually picked up the star-chart parchment she had brought earlier, as if the heart-stopping conversation had never happened, as if she were merely waiting for the most mundane of tasks.
This was an even deeper humiliation—treating her crucial choice as an insignificant trifle.
The dungeon was silent, save for the faint breathing of two people and the frantic, drum-like pounding of Su Yu’s heart. The faint glimmer deep within her dantian seemed to sense its master’s intense emotional turmoil, flickering uneasily before being silently suppressed by the Blood Mark Pact lying dormant beneath the Warm Jade Silk, sending a dull, warning-like ache through her.
This pain was like a basin of cold water, extinguishing the last flicker of delusional flame in her heart. She knew all too clearly that she had no choice. Refusal meant remaining in this sunless dungeon, enduring endless imprisonment and the possibility of You Li’s escalating “punishments.” Acceptance… meant tearing away the last shred of her own dignity with her own hands, grinding it into dust, and offering it at You Li’s feet.
The sash was undone, and the thin, almost weightless moon-white garment slipped from her shoulders, revealing the pale, emaciated body beneath. She did not turn around, yet she could clearly feel the gaze behind her, as if it had substance, coldly sweeping inch by inch over her exposed back, shoulder blades, waistline…
Shame surged through her entire body like molten lava, burning her ears crimson and turning her fingertips icy cold. She could barely stand, only managing to maintain her balance enough to keep from collapsing.
The Smoke Purple dress was much heavier than the Warm Jade Silk, its touch cool and smooth. Clumsily, her fingers trembling uncontrollably, she pulled the garments over herself one by one. The crossed collar, the ties, the waistband…
The dress fit perfectly, as if tailored for her. The Smoke Purple hue made her skin appear even paler and colder, the silver lotus patterns flowing with a secret luster under the faint glow of the Moonlit Moss. The wide sleeves and long skirt concealed her overly thin frame, unexpectedly lending her a fragile, pitiable grace.
You Li had, at some point, set down the leather scroll in her hand and was now resting her chin on her hand, watching her with leisurely composure.
“Come here,” You Li spoke, her voice betraying neither joy nor anger.
Su Yu walked barefoot on the cold stone floor, step by step, toward You Li. The black chains clinked with a crisp, monotonous rhythm with each of her steps, as if keeping time for her humiliating gait. The short distance felt as long as a lifetime.
She stopped before You Li, eyes lowered, not daring to look at her. The hem of the Smoke Purple dress trailed on the ground, picking up a layer of dust.
You Li reached out, not touching her, but merely brushing the tip of the silk ribbon at her waist with her fingertip, feeling its smooth texture. “This color truly suits you,” she said softly, as if appraising an object. “Much better than that lifeless white.”
Su Yu’s body trembled almost imperceptibly.
“Now,” You Li withdrew her hand, leaning back slightly, her posture relaxed yet carrying an invisible pressure. “Begin. First… help me remove this hairpin.”
She pointed to the translucent blood-jade hairpin in her hair.
Su Yu stiffly raised her hand. Her fingers still trembled slightly, their tips icy cold. As she drew near You Li, she could smell her unique, cold fragrance, mingled with a deeper, darker scent belonging to the depths of the demon palace. The distance between them was extremely close, so close that she could see You Li’s distinct, long eyelashes and her own pale, humiliated reflection deep within those crimson eyes.
Her hand touched the blood-jade hairpin. The pin felt warm and smooth, yet there was an unusual coolness to its touch. Carefully, she pulled the hairpin from You Li’s neatly coiled hair.
Her ink-black hair, freed from its bindings, cascaded like a waterfall down You Li’s shoulders, accentuating the eerie, captivating contrast between her pale, cold cheeks and blood-red eyes.
“Comb my hair,” You Li closed her eyes, seeming to enjoy the process, her tone even carrying a hint of laziness. “Use the jade comb over there.”
On the small table, a jade comb had appeared at some point—its body pure white and intricately carved with elaborate mandala patterns.
Su Yu picked up the jade comb; it felt warm to the touch. She moved behind You Li and, looking at the ink-black hair, began to comb it with clumsy movements. She had never done such a thing before. In Xuan Yu Zong, she was the Sheng Nu, the one being served. Now, she awkwardly held the comb, afraid of pulling You Li’s hair and hurting her, yet also worried that being too gentle would seem perfunctory. Each time the comb’s teeth slid through the strands, it felt like a cut across her heart.
You Li sat quietly, allowing Su Yu to proceed. The dungeon was silent except for the faint rustling of the jade comb through the long hair and the nearly imperceptible breaths of the two.
“Too light,” You Li suddenly spoke, her voice flat. “Have you not eaten?”
Su Yu’s fingers tightened, and she increased the pressure. The comb’s teeth sank into the thick hair, and this time, it moved much more smoothly.
“The left side, the third strand, you missed it,” You Li added. Su Yu pressed her lips together, found the strand as instructed, and carefully combed it.
“Do you know how to tie up hair?” You Li asked. “Like I did earlier, just loosely.”
Su Yu’s hand froze.
“You don’t know?” You Li chuckled softly, still without opening her eyes. “Then learn. I’ll teach you.”
For Su Yu, the time that followed felt like being in purgatory. With her eyes closed, You Li directed her in a flat tone—how to gather the hair, how to twist it, how to secure it with a hairpin. Each step felt like slowly carving away her dignity, piece by piece. She fumbled through the attempts, her fingers occasionally brushing against You Li’s cool earlobes or neck, each touch sending a jolt through her like an electric shock.
Finally, a barely passable, loosely tied bun took shape at the back of You Li’s head. It was crooked and far less neat than when You Li had done it herself, with a few stray strands hanging down, adding an air of casual laziness.
You Li reached up and touched it, then produced a small mirror from somewhere—its edges inlaid with black crystals—and looked at her reflection.
“Your skill is truly poor,” she commented, though her tone held little blame and instead carried a strange… pleasure? She set the mirror down, opened her eyes, and her blood-red gaze fell on Su Yu, who still stood rigidly behind her. “But for a first attempt, it’s barely acceptable.”
She rose from the stone stool and turned to face Su Yu. The newly tied hair softened some of her previous sharpness, adding a touch of lazy charm, but those blood-red eyes remained unfathomable, radiating an oppressive sense of control.
“Next,” You Li took a step closer, leaving almost no distance between them. She raised her hand, but this time not with threat or scrutiny. Instead, with her fingertips, she slowly traced the cheek she had just painted with rouge herself.
Her fingertips were icy, gliding over the skin and sending a shiver through Su Yu.
“Please me,” You Li’s voice dropped low, like a lover’s whisper, yet the words were the cruelest command. “In any way you can think of. If you satisfy me, I’ll take you out of here.”
Her gaze fell upon Su Yu’s slightly trembling lips, where faint bloodstains from her own biting still lingered.
“Otherwise,” she leaned in closer, her breath almost brushing against Su Yu’s ear, cold yet scorching, “you will remain here in this dress until the next time I am in the mood… to teach you.”
She looked at You Li, so close at hand, at the anticipation in those crimson eyes waiting for her further descent, at the reflection in the mirror—a pale-faced, tearful figure in a smoky purple dress, like an exquisite doll…
The dungeon was cold, yet she felt her entire body burning. The faint flicker of longing for freedom clashed fiercely with the shame that now consumed her heart, threatening to tear her apart.
You Li’s fingers still lingered on her cheek, with a patience that bordered on cruelty, awaiting her choice, awaiting her… “service.”
Su Yu closed her eyes, scalding tears finally breaking through, tracing a clear wet path down her cheeks, freshly tinted with rouge.