Su Yu felt herself melting, like a candle burned beyond its limit, her consciousness and body slowly collapsing into an indescribable puddle. The only things clear were the icy touch of the silver chains on her wrists and ankles, and the Gu poison surging like wildfire within her.
She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious. In the gaps between floating and sinking awareness, fragmented images always flashed by—the peach blossoms of Qing Yin Pavilion, the zither under the moonlight, then suddenly turning blood-red, the mountain of corpses in Wan Gu Cave, and You Li’s eyes, shifting from clear to crimson, until finally only hatred remained.
“Shimei…”
Su Yu murmured unconsciously, her voice so dry it was almost inaudible.
“What did you call me?”
You Li’s voice was close at hand. Su Yu abruptly opened her eyes to see You Li sitting on a low stool beside the stone bed, holding a jade comb, leisurely combing her own cascading dark hair. She had changed into a dark purple gown, the collar embroidered with silver-threaded mandala patterns, less eerie than yesterday’s red dress but more somber.
A glass lamp had appeared in the dungeon at some point, placed on a stone platform in the corner, emitting a soft, warm glow. This light made the cell seem less sinister.
“I…” Su Yu opened her mouth, her throat aching terribly.
You Li set down the jade comb, picked up a cup of water from a small side table, and brought it to Su Yu’s lips. Su Yu hesitated for a moment before finally lowering her head to take a sip. The water was just the right temperature, carrying a hint of sweetness—clearly not something one would find in a dungeon.
“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” You Li said, watching her drink, her tone flat. “The first onset of Love’s Entanglement is always intense. You’ll gradually adapt from now on.”
Adapt? A chill surged in Su Yu’s heart. This meant her body would slowly grow accustomed to this twisted craving, until it regarded the abnormal as normal.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked softly, no longer accusatory but genuinely perplexed. “If you hate me, just kill me. Why go through…”
“Why go through so much trouble?” You Li took the empty cup and placed it back on the small table. “I’ve said it before—I want you to sink into depravity with me. It’s too lonely in hell alone, Su Yu jiejie.”
As she spoke, her profile faced the light of the glass lamp, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her cheeks. For a moment, Su Yu seemed to see the young girl who once played the zither under the moonlight, her eyes filled with starlight, saying, “Shijie, we must stay together forever.”
Stay together forever. So this was how the vow was being fulfilled.
“The effects of Cold Marrow Dew can only suppress, not eradicate,” You Li turned her head, her crimson eyes staring straight at her. “Every time it flares up, you’ll need my aura to ease it. This is the nature of ‘Love’s Entanglement’—the poisoned one develops a physiological dependence on the poisoner.”
Su Yu’s fingers unconsciously tightened. She understood—this was another form of chains, more secure and inescapable than the silver ones.
“How do you feel today?” You Li reached out to touch her forehead, her fingertips icy cold.
Su Yu instinctively wanted to pull away, but her body froze. It wasn’t because of the silver chains’ restraint, but because when You Li drew near, the restless, feverish heat within her actually subsided slightly. This realization filled her with disgust—toward her own body, toward herself.
“Seems much better,” You Li withdrew her hand. “Can you sit up?”
Su Yu tested the silver chain; its length allowed her to barely sit up, but her range of movement was limited to the stone bed. You Li watched her clumsy movements, then suddenly stood and walked behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders.
“Don’t move.”
Su Yu froze. You Li’s hands slid down from her shoulders and grasped a strand of her long hair. Then, she felt the teeth of a jade comb gently glide across her scalp, beginning to untangle her knotted and matted locks.
The gesture was too intimate, too abnormal. Su Yu’s entire body tensed, every cell screaming in resistance, yet her form remained pinned in place, unable to move.
“When we were young at Qing Yin Pavilion, you always loved combing my hair,” You Li’s voice sounded from behind, calm as if recounting someone else’s story. “You said my hair was like the finest ink satin, smooth and pleasant to comb.”
Su Yu closed her eyes. She remembered, of course she remembered. Qing Li was still young then, always restless, swaying back and forth while having her hair combed. Su Yu would gently coax her while combing, sometimes even weaving intricate patterns. Qing Li would tilt her head up and ask, “Senior Sister, do I look pretty?” She would smile and nod, “Yes, Qing Li is the prettiest.”
“Later, in Wan Mo Cave,” You Li continued, the comb moving steadily, “my hair became matted with demon blood and filth, impossible to untangle. So I took a dagger and cut it off, strand by strand.”
The comb suddenly paused. Su Yu felt You Li’s fingers tremble slightly.
“At that time, I thought, if you were there, you would never have let my hair become like that,” You Li’s voice lowered, nearly a whisper. “But you weren’t.”
Tears fell from Su Yu’s eyes without warning. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but the trembling of her shoulders betrayed her.
You Li set down the comb and wrapped her arms around Su Yu from behind, resting her chin on Su Yu’s head. This embrace felt more agonizing to Su Yu than any punishment.
“Now you’re here,” You Li said, her voice carrying a twisted satisfaction. “From now on, I’ll comb your hair every day, just as you once combed mine.”
“This isn’t the same…” Su Yu choked out.
“It isn’t,” You Li released her, moved to the front of the bed, and crouched down to meet her gaze. “Back then, I depended on you. Now, you depend on me. Fair, isn’t it?”
Her fingers brushed Su Yu’s cheek, wiping away the tears with a tenderness that was heartbreaking. Yet, in those blood-red eyes, there was no warmth.
“Do you know what Love’s Entanglement will ultimately turn you into?” You will gradually forget Xuan Yu Zong, forget your path, forget everything except me. Your world will only have me left; your joys and sorrows will all be tied to me. You will beg for my touch, my gaze, even my punishment.”
Su Yu trembled even more violently.
“By then,” You Li leaned in, her nose almost touching Su Yu’s, “you will be completely mine. We can be together forever, in the way I desire.”
“Will you be happy?” Su Yu suddenly asked, her voice hoarse. “Like this… will you be happy?”
You Li froze. She stared at Su Yu for a long time, so long that the flame in the crystal lamp flickered. Then she smiled, a smile both eerie and broken.
“Happy? Sister Su Yu, ever since the day I fell into the demonic path, I’ve forgotten what happiness even tastes like. But at least,” her fingers traced over Su Yu’s collarbone, coming to rest over her heart, “at least this way, I won’t feel the pain anymore.”
She stood up, her skirt brushing against the edge of the stone bed. “That’s enough for today. Tomorrow, I’ll take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“You’ll know when we get there.” You Li walked to the cell door, glancing back at her. “Rest well. ‘Love’s Entanglement’ may flare up again tonight.”
After she left, the dungeon was once again left with only Su Yu. Her combed hair lay smooth over her shoulders, still carrying the lingering warmth of You Li’s fingertips. Su Yu raised her shackled hands and touched her own hair, suddenly remembering how Qing Li, as a child, loved to bury her face in her freshly combed hair, saying, “You smell so nice, Senior Sister.”
Memories flooded in like a tide, and this time she did not resist. Perhaps it was because the Gu poison had weakened her will, or perhaps because she had finally realized that running away could change nothing.
She began to carefully recall every detail—not about You Li after her fall into demonic ways, but about Qing Li, that little girl who loved to laugh and play, who would slack off during sword practice, and who would sneak into her room late at night saying, “Senior Sister, I’m scared of thunder.”
She remembered Qing Li’s first time flying on a sword, her face pale with nervousness, yet still insisting, “It’s not high at all.” She remembered when Qing Li was learning alchemy and blew up the entire pill-refining room, kneeling in punishment before the ancestral statue, secretly making faces at her. She remembered Qing Li on her fifteenth birthday, holding her hand and saying, “Senior Sister, we’ll be sisters for life—no, even closer than sisters.”
Back then, who could have imagined things would come to this?
Night deepened, and the temperature in the dungeon plummeted. Su Yu curled up, the silver chains making faint rustling sounds with her movements. As You Li had predicted, the Gu poison began to stir once more.
At first, it was just a slight warmth, like small flames flickering in her veins. Gradually, the fire spread, burning through every limb and bone. Su Yu clenched her teeth, her hands gripping the edge of the stone bed tightly. Sweat once again soaked her clothes, and her breathing grew rapid.
She began silently reciting the Heart-Cleansing Mantra, but this time, the incantation failed completely. Every word transformed into You Li’s face, You Li’s voice, You Li’s presence. She craved that cold touch, that chill that could temporarily quench the fire within her.
“No…” she moaned softly, digging her nails deep into her palms, trying to use the pain to stay conscious.
But even the pain failed. The power of the Gu poison was too overwhelming; it twisted her body’s instincts and reshaped her desires. Su Yu felt herself crumbling bit by bit, the dam of her reason washed away by the tide of passion.
She began unconsciously tugging at the silver chains, her wrists scraping until they bled, yet she remained unaware. Only one thought filled her mind—You Li. She needed You Li. Only You Li could ease this torment.
“Please…” she almost cried out, but at the last moment, she bit her lip, swallowing the word. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, dripping onto her white sacred robe, blooming like a small crimson plum blossom.
The glow of the glass lamp blurred into a hazy yellow halo in her eyes. Su Yu’s consciousness gradually scattered, yet her body tensed with longing. She saw an illusion—You Li standing outside the cell door, reaching out to her. She involuntarily leaned forward, only for the silver chains to snap taut, yanking her back to reality.
Outside the cell door, there was no one.
Su Yu collapsed onto the stone bed, gasping for breath, tears mingling with sweat as they slid down her cheeks. Never before had she so clearly recognized her own helplessness and fragility. The cultivation she had once taken pride in, the steadfast Dao heart—all had become a mockery at this moment.
“Qing Li…” she whispered into the void. “If it were you, what would you do?”
No one answered. Only the eternal echoes from the depths of the dungeon and the steady drip of water droplets broke the silence.
Late into the night, faint movements came from outside the cell door. Su Yu barely managed to lift her eyes and saw a maid dressed in black silently enter, holding a bowl of liquid that emitted a chilling mist.
The maid was young, her face expressionless. She knelt beside the stone bed and brought the bowl to Su Yu’s lips. Su Yu caught the distinct, crisp scent of Cold Marrow Dew.
She opened her mouth and allowed the maid to feed her the liquid. As it slid down her throat, the cold instantly suppressed the feverish heat. She shivered, her mind clearing slightly.
“Who sent you?” she asked hoarsely.
The maid did not answer. She merely tidied the empty bowl, bowed respectfully, and retreated. The entire process was as silent as a pantomime.
Su Yu lay back on the stone bed. The effects of the Cold Marrow Dew temporarily freed her from the torment of the Gu poison, but it also brought a bone-piercing chill. She curled into a ball, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.
It was then that she noticed a thin brocade quilt had appeared on the stone bed at some point. Though flimsy, it was better than nothing. After a moment of hesitation, she finally pulled it over herself. The quilt carried a faint, cold fragrance, reminiscent of the scent that clung to You Li.
This discovery stirred a complex mix of emotions within her—a sliver of comfort from being cared for, yet also a deeper, more profound fear. You Li was meticulously arranging every aspect of her life, from combing her hair to covering her with a quilt, as if truly intent on constructing a world for just the two of them—a twisted home with the prison cell as its boundary.
Su Yu closed her eyes in the cold. She recalled You Li’s mention of taking her somewhere tomorrow, and a strong unease welled up in her heart. Deep within the demon palace, aside from the dungeon, what other pleasant place could there be?
But at this moment, she lacked the strength to think too much. The cold brought by the Cold Marrow Dew gradually seeped into her limbs, and exhaustion washed over her like a tide. She sank into sleep, dreaming once more of the peach blossom grove in Qing Yin Pavilion.
This time, Qing Li did not pluck a flower to tuck behind her ear. Instead, she stood beneath a peach tree, reaching out to her with a smile, saying, “Senior Sister, come, I’ll take you somewhere.”
She followed Qing Li through the peach grove, petals swirling like rain. As they walked, the surroundings began to change—the peach trees withered, the petals turned blood-red, and the sky darkened like night. Qing Li turned back, her eyes now crimson.
“Senior Sister,” she said, her voice still as clear and crisp as in her youth. “We’re here.”
Su Yu looked up and saw before her an endless expanse of darkness, within which the faint outlines of chains and torture instruments were barely visible. It was the dungeon, the Wan Gu Cave, the gathering place of all suffering.
Qing Li—or perhaps You Li—tightened her grip on Su Yu’s hand, smiling as she said, “Welcome home, Senior Sister. This time, we will never be apart again.”
Su Yu jolted awake from her dream, drenched in cold sweat. The glass lamp still glowed, and the dungeon remained as silent and empty as ever. She raised her hand, staring at the red marks left by the silver chains on her wrist, and suddenly realized something.
In the dream, when You Li held her hand, she hadn’t pulled away.
Not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t want to.
This realization chilled her to the bone, colder than Cold Marrow Dew and more searing than Gu poison. She finally understood what You Li meant by “watching yourself sink into ruin with a clear mind.”
It wasn’t the imprisonment of the body, nor the torment of Gu poison—it was watching her own heart betray her bit by bit, powerless to stop it.
As dawn approached but had yet to break, footsteps echoed once more. This time, You Li wasn’t wearing a dress but a sleek black martial attire, her long hair tied high to reveal her slender neck. In her hands, she held a dark red cloak.
“Get up,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll show you what the righteous path you fought so hard to protect looks like now.”