Su Yu knelt on the cold floor, the smoke-purple hem of her skirt spread across the dark red halo of light.
The bronze mirror was not far away, its smooth surface reflecting her current posture—her lowered head, a few stray strands of hair, her slightly trembling shoulders, and the luxurious yet prison-like gown she wore. The image in the mirror was distorted and unfamiliar. She stared for a long time before barely recognizing it as herself.
She didn’t know how long she had been kneeling. Time had lost all meaning here, with only the red light beads on the dome continuously emitting their halos. Her knees went from stinging to numb, then to a needle-like ache. She tried to move, but her body felt as stiff as rusted metal.
Just then, faint footsteps sounded outside the door. The stone door slid open a crack, and two women dressed in dark red maid attire entered silently. They carried items in their hands—a neatly folded set of light-colored sleepwear, a thick fleece blanket, and a steaming white jade bowl.
They paid no attention to Su Yu kneeling on the floor, as if she were merely a piece of furniture in the room. The two of them moved with practiced efficiency: one spread the fleece blanket over the cold black warm jade bed, while the other placed the sleepwear beside the bed and gently set the white jade bowl on the metal table in the center of the room.
After completing these tasks, they bowed silently to the empty air behind Su Yu, then retreated as quietly as they had entered. The stone door closed once more.
The room was left with only Su Yu, the bowl of hot soup emitting a sweet fragrance, and the soft, warm-looking fleece blanket on the bed.
This was a more refined form of torment. Not direct violence, but a reminder of her identity and situation through the guise of care—everything about her, including warmth, cold, hunger, and satiety, depended on You Li’s will, without even requiring You Li to speak a word.
Su Yu stared at the bowl of hot soup, a sharp pain twisting in her stomach. It had been a long time since she had eaten a proper meal. The soups and medicinal cuisine she had consumed in the dungeon were more for sustaining life than nourishment. Now, this seemingly ordinary bowl of soup exuded an irresistible warmth.
But she did not move. You Li had ordered her to kneel and had not said when she could rise. She dared not stand up on her own, even though her knees had long since lost all sensation from the pain.
Time continued to pass. The glow of the red light beads seemed to dim slightly, perhaps indicating the passage of day and night outside? Su Yu didn’t know. She simply maintained her kneeling posture…
Finally, as darkness began to flicker before her eyes, the stone door opened once more.
You Li entered. She had changed out of her black martial attire and now wore a loose, dark red silk robe. Her hair was loose, the ends still slightly damp, as if she had just bathed. In her hand, she held an ancient-looking leather scroll. Her gaze swept over Su Yu, still kneeling in place, and the bowl of soup on the table, long since cold, with a layer of congealed oil on its surface.
Her blood-red eyes showed no emotion—neither approval nor reproach. She walked directly to the metal table, sat down behind it, unrolled the scroll, and began reading as if Su Yu did not exist.
The room was left with only the faint rustling sound of turning pages.
Su Yu’s willpower was slowly draining away. The physical pain, the emptiness in her spirit, and the involuntary craving for that bowl of cold soup intertwined, tormenting her. She began to sway uncontrollably, her undergarments soaked with cold sweat, and fine beads of perspiration seeped from her forehead.
Just as she thought she would faint from it all, You Li closed the book scroll.
“Get up.”
Su Yu tried to obey the command, but having knelt for too long, her legs had long lost all sensation. The moment she exerted force, she pitched forward, falling awkwardly onto the cold floor with a dull thud. Her smoke-purple dress was disheveled, the silk ribbon tying her hair had come loose, and her long hair cascaded down, covering her instantly flushed face.
She did not get up immediately but lay there, breathing rapidly, as the feeling of humiliation once again washed over her like a tide.
You Li did not move or make a sound, merely sitting there, looking down at her struggle from above.
Su Yu clenched her teeth, mustering all her strength to push herself up with her arms. Bit by bit, she laboriously shifted her legs, finally staggering to her feet. The entire process was slow and clumsy, like a bird with broken wings.
She kept her head down, not daring to look at You Li, her fingers unconsciously twisting the disheveled collar of her dress.
“Drink the soup.” You Li’s next command followed.
Su Yu stiffly moved to the table and picked up the long-cold white jade bowl. The surface of the soup had congealed with a layer of white grease, and its aroma had become somewhat cloying. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and gulped down the cold liquid. The grease clung to her throat, causing a wave of nausea. She forced herself to swallow, her stomach churning violently.
“Go to the bedside.” You Li’s voice sounded again.
Su Yu set down the bowl and moved as instructed to the edge of the black warm jade bed. The rug looked soft, but she dared not sit, standing rigidly instead.
You Li rose from behind the desk and walked slowly to stand before her. A cold fragrance, carrying the dampness of a recent bath, enveloped her.
She reached out and picked up the set of light-colored sleeping garments placed by the bedside. The fabric was soft, made of a silk material Su Yu had never seen before. The color was an extremely pale moonlight white, nearly transparent, yet slightly thicker than warm jade silk. Intricate, dense dark patterns were embroidered onto it with silver thread.
“Change into this.” You Li held the sleeping garments out to her.
Su Yu took the set of clothes. They felt cool and smooth to the touch. She looked at You Li, her eyes silently pleading—at least, please turn around.
You Li caught her gaze, a flicker of amusement passing through her eyes. But she did not turn away. Instead, she took a leisurely step back, crossed her arms, and watched Su Yu, her posture clearly stating: right here, right in front of me.
The color drained from Su Yu’s face. She turned her back, her fingers stiffly beginning to untie the fastenings of her smoke-purple dress.
The outer robe slipped off, the inner garment slipped off… until only the personal warm jade silk and the Blood Mark Pact—invisible yet ever-present—remained. With her back to You Li, her exposed skin prickled with goosebumps under the dark red light. She dared not turn around, dared not look at the expression in You Li’s eyes at that moment.
Then, she pulled the moonlight-white sleeping garment over herself. The silk fabric clung to her skin, bringing a slippery sensation. The garment was loose and large, almost enveloping her entire body, tied only loosely at the waist with a silk ribbon of the same color.
Once changed, she remained with her back to You Li, standing rigidly in place.
Footsteps sounded as You Li walked up behind her. Su Yu could sense her approach, could smell the scent of cold fragrance mixed with dampness that clung to her. She was so tense she could barely breathe.
You Li didn’t touch her, only reached out from behind and gently loosened the sash of her sleeping robe that she had just tied.
The silk ribbon slipped away, and the loose front of the sleeping robe fell open, revealing the outline of the thinner undergarment beneath and a stretch of pale, faintly undulating skin.
“Sleep. I’ll be watching here.”
Su Yu’s body went completely rigid. Sleep? Under You Li’s gaze? Wearing this nearly transparent sleeping robe?
But an order was an order. She had no choice.
Moving stiffly, she climbed onto the bed, lay down, and pulled the thick woolen blanket over herself from head to toe, refusing to let even a strand of hair show. As if doing so could block out that icy gaze.
The blanket was warm, driving away the chill from the floor, but it couldn’t dispel the coldness in her heart.
The room fell into a deathly silence. Su Yu curled up beneath the blanket, her body rigid, even her breathing deliberately lightened. She could sense that You Li hadn’t left—she was standing by the bed, or perhaps sitting, her gaze piercing through the thick blanket and pinning her in place.
Time passed second by second, each moment stretching out like an eternity.
Just as Su Yu’s strained nerves were about to snap, a faint rustling sound came from beside the bed. It was the sound of fabric shifting, followed by a slight dip in the mattress—You Li had sat down, right beside her.
Su Yu’s heart clenched violently, almost stopping.
Then, a cool hand gently rested on her back, separated only by the blanket.
Su Yu’s body tensed instantly, like a fully drawn bow.
“Relax,” You Li’s voice came from outside the blanket, low and measured, “unless you want me to help you ‘relax.’”
The threat was implicit. She forced herself to gradually loosen her stiff muscles, but the presence of that hand was overwhelming, like a block of ice searing into her back, freezing her blood and her thoughts.
In her extreme tension and exhaustion, Su Yu’s consciousness began to blur. The prolonged torment in the dungeon, the long hours of kneeling earlier, the immense psychological shock, and now this eerie, suffocating companionship had drained her of all strength. The warmth of the blanket, the softness of the bed, and that hand—cold yet unexpectedly steady—overwhelmed her with animalistic fatigue.
Just before her consciousness sank into darkness, she seemed to hear an extremely soft sigh, so faint it was almost imperceptible, coming from beyond the blanket, from the owner of that hand.
She fell asleep. In the cold halls of Xue E Gong, under You Li’s gaze and touch, she sank into a restless slumber.
And You Li remained seated by the bed, her hand resting on the blanket, feeling the subtle rise and fall of the body beneath her palm as it gradually relaxed and finally succumbed to sleep. Her crimson eyes, reflecting the curled-up form on the bed in the dim light, were unfathomable, betraying no emotion.