When Su Yu was led out of the dungeon by You Li, the sudden light stung her eyes painfully.
She instinctively squinted, tears uncontrollably welling up. The dark red cloak You Li draped over her carried a cold fragrance, identical to the eerie aura that surrounded You Li herself. The edge of the cloak rubbed against the skin of her neck, and Su Yu could clearly feel the texture of every fiber. This overly acute sensation made her realize that the Gu poison was reshaping her senses—everything was amplified.
The silver chains had been replaced with longer black ones, one end fastened to her wrists and ankles, the other held in You Li’s hand. The chains were long enough to allow her to follow three steps behind You Li, yet short enough to prevent escape. With each step, the chains emitted crisp clinking sounds, each one a reminder of her current identity: prisoner, pet, possession.
The corridors of the demon palace twisted like serpents, with eerie totems carved into the stone walls on either side—distorted human faces, coiled snakes, flowers blooming atop skeletons.
Su Yu walked barefoot on the cold stone floor, the chill shooting up her spine from the soles of her feet. She hadn’t stood or walked for so long that her legs trembled weakly, each step requiring immense effort to maintain balance. Beneath the cloak, her body still wore the tattered white robe, the fabric rubbing against the unhealed wounds on her skin, causing a fine, persistent sting.
But none of these physical discomforts compared to the fear in her heart—where was You Li taking her? What was she about to see?
“Almost there,” You Li suddenly spoke from ahead without turning around. “Just up ahead.”
They turned a corner and arrived at a protruding terrace. The terrace was built of black Xuan stone, with no railings at its edge. Below was a bottomless abyss, thick mist churning within, from which faint, mournful howls could be heard—whether from the wind or something suffering below, it was unclear.
But what caught Su Yu’s attention was the enormous water mirror floating in mid-air directly ahead of the terrace. The mirror’s surface shimmered with an eerie blue light, reflecting not their own images but a distant scene.
It was Xuan Yu Zong.
Su Yu’s breath caught in her throat.
In the water mirror, the mountain gate of Xuan Yu Zong had already collapsed. The white jade steps were stained with blood, and disciples clad in Xuan Yu Zong robes lay scattered among the ruins. Cultivators of the demonic path swarmed like locusts, their black and crimson figures weaving through the once-sacred halls, looting, destroying, and killing.
“No…” Su Yu stumbled forward, the chains pulling taut and sending sharp pain through her wrists. She barely noticed, her gaze fixed on the water mirror, her pupils dilated in extreme shock.
She saw the Mountain Guardian Elder, the stern old man who would secretly slip her ointment when she injured herself during sword practice, now impaled through the chest by a demonic sword and nailed to the main hall’s door. His eyes were still open, staring at the sky, unseeing in death.
She saw her junior apprentice sister, Yun Sheng, only sixteen this year, always laughing and playful, who would often say, “When Senior Sister Su Yu returns, I’ll show her my new sword technique.” Now, Yun Sheng lay curled at the edge of the training grounds, her small body clutching half a broken sword.
She saw the Transmission Hall, the Library Pavilion, the Serenity Lake—all the familiar places, engulfed in flames. Black smoke billowed into the sky, staining it a murky gray.
“This is a live scene.” You Li walked to her side, her voice as calm as if she were describing scenery. “The three sects of the demonic path have joined forces to besiege Xuan Yu Zong. It’s already the third day. Your sect leader, Senior Brother, is still putting up a desperate resistance in the forbidden area of the rear mountain, but he likely won’t last past dusk today.”
Su Yu trembled all over, feeling as if an invisible hand were choking her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. Darkness crept into the edges of her vision, yet the images in the water mirror grew clearer—every detail, every drop of blood, every familiar face frozen in terror and agony, seared into her mind like a red-hot brand.
“Why…” she rasped, her voice broken and incoherent, “they… they have nothing to do with our grievances…”
“Nothing to do?” You Li chuckled lightly, her fingers tracing the edge of the water mirror, causing ripples to spread across its surface. “Sister Su Yu, you’re too naive. Ever since I fell into demonic cultivation, Xuan Yu Zong has repeatedly participated in operations to hunt me down. Three years ago, in the battle at Black Wind Valley, your sect leader personally led the team, injuring three hundred Demonic Cultivators under my command—did you know any of this?”
Su Yu shook her head stiffly. She had spent years in seclusion at Xuan Yu Zong to heal her injuries, and after emerging, she had traveled everywhere searching for You Li, paying almost no attention to the sect’s affairs.
“You didn’t know because you didn’t care.” You Li’s voice turned cold. “All you cared about was your own path, your purity, your title as Sheng Nu. As for what I’ve experienced, what I’ve endured, you never truly cared.”
“That’s not true!” Su Yu whirled around abruptly, the chains clattering loudly. “I looked for you! I—”
“You were looking for Qing Li, the pure and flawless little junior sister from your memories.” You Li interrupted her, dark emotions swirling in her crimson eyes. “But what you found was You Li, a demoness with blood-stained hands. You were disappointed, weren’t you? You thought I was tainted, fallen, no longer worthy of being your junior sister.”
Su Yu opened her mouth but could not utter a word of rebuttal. Because You Li had struck upon the most hidden thought deep in her heart—when she saw the red-clad demoness at Wan Gu Cave, her first reaction had indeed been disappointment, heartache, and the thought, “How could you have become like this?”
“So now,” You Li reached out, her icy fingers gripping Su Yu’s chin, forcing her to turn back and look at the water mirror, “I want you to see how everything you desperately tried to protect crumbles. I want you to watch with your own eyes as Xuan Yu Zong turns to scorched earth, as your fellow disciples die tragically—just as I once watched Qing Yin Pavilion expel me, watched the so-called righteous path hunt me down without mercy.”
The scene in the water mirror shifted to the forbidden area of the rear mountain. Qing Xu Zhenren, the sect leader of Xuan Yu Zong, was covered in blood, still fighting bitterly. Only ten or so disciples remained around him, all wounded, their backs against the stone wall of the forbidden area as they made their last stand. Demonic Cultivators surged forward like a tide, blades flashing, blood and flesh flying.
Suddenly, Qing Xu Zhenren looked up at the sky, his lips moving as if reciting something. Su Yu recognized it as Xuan Yu Zong’s highest secret technique, the Invocation of Divine Spirits—a method that burned one’s life force to summon ancestral spirits to aid in battle. But once used, the caster would inevitably die.
“Senior Brother! Don’t!” Su Yu cried out, lunging toward the water mirror. The chains suddenly tightened, yanking her back violently. She fell to the ground, her elbow striking the cold black stone, but she felt no pain. Her eyes remained fixed on the scene in the mirror.
Master Qingxu erupted with a dazzling golden light, sending the surrounding Demonic Cultivators flying. But more surged forward, countless magical instruments and curses raining down upon him like a storm. The golden light gradually dimmed, and that senior brother who had always gently taught her “the Dao heart is the true heart” finally knelt slowly, his body turning into specks of light amidst the relentless attacks, scattering in the wind.
At the last moment, he glanced toward the water mirror—not truly seeing, but a kind of profound, intangible sense. His lips moved, forming two words.
Su Yu understood the shape of those lips.
“Run.”
Then the image vanished, the water mirror returning to an ordinary surface, reflecting her and You Li—one collapsed on the ground, face ashen; the other standing and looking down, expression inscrutable.
Silence enveloped the terrace. The howls from the abyss below seemed clearer, the wind wailing through the stone crevices like the cries of countless lost souls.
Su Yu felt something shatter inside her. Not bones, not organs, but something deeper—her faith, her convictions, the meaning of her existence. Xuan Yu Zong was gone, her fellow disciples all dead, the righteous path she had upheld for over a hundred years collapsing before her eyes in the most tragic way.
And all of this, to some extent, was because of her.
If not for her, Qing Li would not have fallen into demonic cultivation.
If Qing Li had not fallen, Xuan Yu Zong might not have suffered this calamity.
Cause and effect cycle, retribution is certain.
“Ha… hahaha…” Su Yu suddenly laughed, the sound hoarse and broken, uglier than weeping. She laughed until her whole body trembled, laughed until tears streamed down her face, laughed until she lay sprawled on the cold ground, fingers digging into the cracks of the stone slabs.
You Li watched her quietly, neither speaking nor moving. She only tightened her grip on the chain in her hand.
After laughing for a long time, Su Yu finally stopped, collapsing limply like an empty shell drained of its soul. She lay on her back, staring at the dark red sky of the demon palace, her eyes hollow.
“Are you satisfied?” she whispered, her voice terrifyingly calm. “Seeing me like this, are you satisfied?”
You Li crouched down, her dark purple skirt spreading across the black stone floor. She reached out and brushed aside the disheveled hair from Su Yu’s face, her movements heartbreakingly gentle.
“No,” she said softly. “I thought I would be happy, but I’m not. Seeing you in pain, here—” she pressed a hand to her own chest—”hurts even more.”
Su Yu turned her eyes to look at her. Indeed, there was no glee of victory in You Li’s eyes, only a deeper desolation, a despair akin to mutual destruction.
“Why?” Su Yu asked. “Why show me all this? Just to torment me?”
“To make you understand,” You Li’s fingers traced her cheek, coming to rest on her trembling lips, “we are the same now, Sister Su Yu. You can never return to Xuan Yu Zong, never be the Sheng Nu again. Your righteous path has abandoned you, just as it abandoned me back then. Now, you have only me left.”
She leaned close, whispering into Su Yu’s ear, her breath cold: “And I have only you left.”
These words were like a final verdict, shattering the last shred of hope in Su Yu’s heart. She finally understood You Li’s full intention—not to kill her, but to strip her of every place she could rely on or return to, until her entire world consisted of You Li alone.
It was then that the Gu poison flared up once more.
Perhaps the intense emotional turmoil had catalyzed it, for this attack was more ferocious than any before. A wave of heat exploded from her dantian, instantly sweeping through her entire body. Su Yu arched her back, letting out a suppressed moan. Sweat soaked through her inner garments almost instantly, and her skin flushed with an unnatural redness.
“Do you need me?” You Li asked softly, her fingers brushing over Su Yu’s burning neck.
Su Yu clenched her teeth, but the Gu poison surged like a raging flood, overwhelming all her defenses. She felt a drowning thirst—a thirst for You Li’s touch, for her breath, for the icy cold that could temporarily quench the flames within her.
“Please…” she finally uttered the word, her voice shattered and broken, “please…”
Shame gnawed at her heart like a venomous snake, but the craving of her body overpowered everything. She even involuntarily shifted slightly toward You Li, the chains clinking crisply with her movement.
You Li’s crimson eyes were unfathomably deep. She gazed at Su Yu for a moment, then lowered her head and captured her lips in a kiss.
This kiss was different from the previous violent ones—slow, deep, and carrying a tenderness that bordered on pity. Su Yu stiffened for an instant, but then her body betrayed her will—she parted her lips, responding to the kiss, her hands even unconsciously clutching at You Li’s collar.
You Li’s breath flowed in like a cold spring, temporarily suppressing the searing heat of the Gu poison. Su Yu felt a wave of relief so intense it left her weak, yet also a deeper despair. Her body had memorized this form of relief; the next time it struck, she would yield even more easily.
When the kiss ended, a silvery strand of saliva stretched between their lips. Su Yu panted, her eyes misty and her cheeks still flushed. You Li wiped the wetness from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, her expression complex and inscrutable.
“Let’s go back,” You Li said, rising to her feet and tugging on the chain.
Su Yu struggled to stand, her legs so weak she could barely support herself. You Li reached out to steady her, draping Su Yu’s arm over her own shoulder, half-supporting and half-carrying her as they left the terrace.
The journey back seemed longer. Su Yu leaned dazedly against You Li, the cold fragrance of her scent lingering at her nose, the sensation of the kiss still imprinted on her body. The Gu poison had been temporarily suppressed, but its lingering echoes hummed faintly in her veins, reminding her that this was only a temporary calm.
As they passed a smooth stone wall, Su Yu caught a glimpse of her own reflection—cloaked in a dark red cape, her face pale, her gaze vacant, her lips swollen and red, her entire body leaning into You Li’s embrace in a posture of submission and dependence.
That wasn’t her. That was a stranger—a puppet that had been destroyed and remolded.
She closed her eyes.
When they returned to the dungeon, the crystal lamp was still lit, its soft light almost mockingly gentle. You Li helped her sit on the stone bed, then knelt down and took hold of her ankle. Su Yu instinctively tried to pull her foot back, but You Li tightened her grip.
“Don’t move,” You Li said, retrieving a small jade box from her robes. She opened it to reveal a luminous white ointment inside. “Your feet are injured.”
Only then did Su Yu notice that walking barefoot had worn blisters and sores on her soles, some already broken and oozing blood. She hadn’t even felt the pain earlier—perhaps the Gu poison and emotional turmoil had masked it.
You Li scooped out some ointment with her finger and gently applied it to the wounds. The ointment was cool, carrying the faint scent of herbs. Her movements were careful and gentle, as if handling something fragile and precious.
Su Yu gazed at her lowered profile, the long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, the straight bridge of her nose, and lips pressed into a thin line. In this moment, You Li, devoid of her usual eerie aura and hostility, bore a faint resemblance to Qing Li from years past.
“Why?” Su Yu asked again, her voice almost inaudible. “Why do all this?”
The hand applying the medicine paused briefly. Without looking up, You Li continued spreading the ointment, her voice low as she replied, “Because aside from this, I don’t know how else to keep you here.”
“You could let me go,” Su Yu said.
Finally, You Li raised her head, her crimson eyes meeting Su Yu’s directly. “And then what? You return to Xuan Yu Zong, bury your fellow disciples, rebuild the sect, and continue as their Sheng Nu. Meanwhile, I remain adrift in the demonic path, occasionally hearing news of you, knowing you’re drifting further and further away—until one day, perhaps you lead a new coalition of righteous cultivators to hunt me down, just as your senior brother once did.”
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “In that case, I’d rather destroy you with my own hands. At least then, you’d die by mine.”
Su Yu was left speechless. She realized that within You Li’s twisted logic, this indeed was love—a love expressed through destruction, aimed at possession, and destined to end in mutual ruin.
The medicine was applied. You Li put away the jade box and stood up. Instead of leaving immediately, she remained by the stone bed, looking down at Su Yu.
“I’ll stay with you tonight,” she said suddenly.
Su Yu jerked her head up.
“The Gu poison will flare once more at midnight,” You Li explained calmly. “Cold Marrow Dew cannot be used consecutively, or it will damage your meridians. Tonight, you need me.”
She spoke the truth, but Su Yu heard the underlying implication—this was another step in the process of conditioning, making her body accustomed to You Li’s presence, accustomed to seeking solace and relief from her.
“No…” she weakly resisted.
Ignoring her, You Li removed her outer robe, leaving only a thin black inner garment, and lay down on the stone bed. The bed was narrow, forcing them to lie close together. You Li reached out and pulled Su Yu into her embrace, the motion as natural as if she had done it a thousand times before.
Su Yu stiffened like stone. You Li’s body was cold, a stark contrast to the feverish heat raging within her. That chill held a deadly allure now; her body instinctively yearned to draw closer, while her mind screamed at her to pull away.
“Sleep,” You Li murmured, resting her chin atop Su Yu’s head, her arm encircling her waist. “I’m here.”
Silence filled the dungeon. The glow of the crystal lamp gently enveloped them, casting their entwined shadows on the stone walls. Su Yu could hear the steady rhythm of You Li’s heartbeat, smell her unique cold fragrance, and feel the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.
It was all too intimate, too reminiscent of the past—those nights in Qing Yin Pavilion, when Qing Li, afraid of thunder, would clutch her pillow and slip into Su Yu’s bed, curling up in her arms like a small animal.
Memory and reality overlapped, blurring the boundaries between love and hatred. Su Yu felt a profound exhaustion, not only in her body but in her very soul. Slowly, she relaxed her rigid form, allowing herself to sink into You Li’s embrace.
The Gu poison hummed in her veins, awaiting its next surge. You Li’s arm held her tightly, as if afraid she might vanish, or perhaps as a declaration of possession.
Su Yu closed her eyes. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye, disappearing into the fabric of You Li’s inner garment.
At this moment, she clearly felt herself falling—not into the demonic path, but into an even deeper abyss, where there was no light, no salvation, only You Li, and an endless entanglement.
As for what awaited her at the bottom of the abyss—whether it was destruction or some twisted rebirth—she no longer dared to imagine.