By midnight, when the dungeon door silently opened, Su Yu was already trembling slightly from the premonition of the Gu poison. That subtle, bone-deep craving seeped out as expected, more lingering and harder to resist than the previous times. She curled up on the stone bed, the embroidered quilt kicked aside, her tattered white sacred robe soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to her skin and outlining the curves of her violently heaving body.
But it was not You Li who entered, but two silent maids dressed in black.
They carried a set of clothing in their hands, which shimmered with a flowing luster under the dim yellow light of the glass lantern.
Su Yu struggled to prop herself up, watching them warily. The maids approached expressionlessly, one pressing down on her shoulder while the other began to undo her already filthy sacred robe.
“Stop…” Su Yu weakly struggled, but the black chains restricted her movements, and the weakness brought on by the Gu poison left her without even the strength to push the maids away. The sacred robe was easily removed and thrown to the ground.
The cold air touching her skin made her shiver. But immediately after, an even colder fabric pressed against her body.
It was extremely light and thin, like a layer of flowing dark mist, yet it clung to her curves as if alive. Su Yu looked down:
It was a set of nearly transparent black gauze clothing.
The material was a type of Demon Realm silk she had never seen before, as thin as a cicada’s wing, shimmering with a faint, dark glow under the light. It barely covered the main parts of her body but was designed with extreme cunning—or rather, extreme malice.
The top was a cross-tied style, starting from the neck, with delicate black ribbons crisscrossing downward, forming a hollow diamond-shaped opening at the chest, edged with tiny, blood-red crystal fragments.
The gaps between the ribbons were wide, and with even the slightest movement, her skin would faintly show through. The skirt was even more revealing, consisting only of two sheer gauze panels at the front and back, with the sides completely open, exposing everything from the tops of her thighs to her ankles, connected only by a thin chain at the waist. The gauze was embroidered with dark red mandala patterns, rising and falling slightly with her breath, like some living curse.
Most humiliating of all, the entire outfit provided almost no substantial coverage. It was less like clothing and more like a meticulously designed display piece, a label declaring ownership.
“No…” Su Yu’s voice trembled, “Take it away… I won’t wear it…”
The maids ignored her protests. They skillfully helped her into the gauze outfit, adjusting the tightness of the ties to ensure every inch of her skin was appropriately exposed beneath the faintly visible sheer fabric.
The cold silk pressed against her skin, bringing an unusual sensation. Su Yu could clearly feel the air flowing through the hollowed-out parts and see the pale hue of her skin showing through the black gauze.
As the ties tightened at her back, she trembled violently from humiliation. The ribbons dug into her skin, not tight enough to cause pain but enough to make her constantly aware of the outfit’s presence.
“The Demon Lord has ordered that the Sheng Nu wear this from now on,” one of the maids finally spoke, her voice flat and emotionless. They took two steps back, examined their handiwork, then bowed and retreated.
The cell door closed, leaving Su Yu alone, wearing the gauze outfit that could hardly be called clothing, curled up on the cold stone bed.
Shame washed over her like a tidal wave. She tried to wrap her arms around herself, but the movement only caused the side of the gauzy fabric to slip open, revealing more skin. She froze, not daring to move a muscle, as if by staying still, this outfit would cease to exist.
But it did exist. Every inch of skin in contact with the silk screamed, every exposed part of her body breaking out in goosebumps. Looking down, she could see the faint curves beneath the hollowed-out diamond pattern on her chest, and the full lines of her thighs exposed through the side slits.
This was not a prisoner’s uniform. This was humiliation, an exhibition—You Li’s most direct way of telling her: You are no longer yourself. You are my possession, a collectible to be dressed and displayed at will.
Footsteps sounded again, lighter and more familiar than the maids’.
Su Yu jerked her head up to see You Li standing outside the cell door, her gaze fixed upon her.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still.
Something flickered in You Li’s eyes—appreciation, satisfaction, the fulfillment of some dark possessiveness. She walked in slowly, her Dark Red gown trailing behind her, a stark contrast to the nearly-naked black gauze Su Yu wore.
“It suits you,” You Li said, stopping beside the stone bed, her voice soft as if admiring a work of art.
Su Yu wanted to curl up, to find something to cover herself, but the length of the silver chains and the design of the gauze dress made even this simple action impossible. She could only sit rigidly, allowing You Li’s gaze to sweep over every inch of her skin like a tangible touch.
“Are you cold?” You Li asked, reaching out to gently brush her fingertips over Su Yu’s bare shoulder.
Su Yu shuddered violently. Not from the cold—though it was indeed cold—but from that touch. You Li’s fingertips were icy, yet as they traced her skin, they ignited another kind of fire within her. The Gu poison stirred awake at the contact.
“Why…” Su Yu’s voice was broken, “why humiliate me like this…”
“Humiliate?” You Li raised an eyebrow, her fingers sliding down from Su Yu’s shoulder, tracing the crisscrossing black ribbons on her back. “No, Sister Su Yu, this is a gift.”
Her fingers paused at the small of Su Yu’s back, where an old scar remained from a training injury years ago. You Li’s fingertips gently caressed the scar, her movements almost tender.
“I sought out the best weaver in the Demon Realm, using threads dyed with Nether Spider silk and Night-blooming Cereus juice. It took three months to weave just this one piece,” You Li whispered, her breath warm against Su Yu’s ear. “It’s light, so it won’t chafe your skin; it’s soft, moving with your every breath; it’s beautiful, making you look like a flower blooming in the dark night.”
She moved to stand in front of Su Yu, crouching down to meet her eye to eye. Her crimson eyes reflected Su Yu’s pale, shame-filled face and the nearly transparent black gauze.
“See,” You Li’s hand cupped Su Yu’s cheek, then slowly moved downward, her fingertips lightly touching the crystal fragments at the collar of the gauze dress. “This is the real you. Shed those hypocritical sacred robes, strip away that sanctimonious disguise, and reveal what lies beneath—the truest, most fragile, and most beautiful essence.”
Her fingers came to rest over Su Yu’s heart, where, through the hollowed diamond, the faint rise and fall of her skin was visible.
“This gown does not lie,” You Li whispered softly. “It will tell everyone who you are, and to whom you belong.”
Su Yu’s tears finally fell. Not from sorrow, but from a deeper despair—she realized You Li was right. This gown was a declaration, a brand. Wearing it, she was no longer the Sheng Nu of Xuan Yu Zong, nor even a complete person. She was an exhibit, a symbol, a prisoner stripped entirely of dignity and autonomy.
And the most terrifying part was that, amidst this extreme shame, the physiological reactions brought by the Gu poison did not cease. You Li’s touch, her words, even her gaze, stirred waves of unbearable restlessness within Su Yu.
The sheer thinness of the gauze gown made these sensations even clearer—she could feel the rising temperature of her skin, the subtle, uncontrollable changes in certain parts of her body.
“You’re trembling,” You Li observed her reaction, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips. “Are you cold? Or… do you need me?”
Su Yu bit her lip until she tasted blood. She could not answer, could not admit it, but her body had already responded for her. A faint trembling began from within, spreading to her limbs. The black gauze gown swayed gently with her tremors, the mandala patterns on it seeming to come alive, stretching eerily across her skin.
You Li stood up, looking down at her from above. Then, she did something that nearly shattered Su Yu—
She began slowly, piece by piece, to remove her own outer garments.
First the robe, then the belt, followed by the inner layers. You Li’s movements were unhurried, as if performing some kind of ritual. Finally, she wore only a black gauze gown similar in material to Su Yu’s, though more exquisitely designed, covering slightly more yet equally translucent.
Under the dim, yellowish light of the dungeon, two nearly naked women stood facing each other. One standing, one kneeling; one in control, one in submission; one with eyes of unfathomable darkness, the other with eyes filled with shattered tears.
Yet they wore similar gowns, like a pair of twisted reflections.
“Now,” You Li whispered softly, her voice echoing in the dungeon, “we are the same.”
She walked to the stone bed and sat down beside Su Yu. The black gauze gowns rustled softly against each other. You Li reached out and pulled Su Yu into her embrace. This time, without the barrier of clothing, skin met skin directly—cold against warm, smooth against trembling.
Su Yu stiffened like a stone. She could feel every curve of You Li’s body, the temperature of her skin, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Yet she herself trembled uncontrollably—from shame, from cold, and from the increasingly intense longing within her for this contact.
“Relax,” You Li murmured in her ear, her fingers tracing down Su Yu’s back, sliding along her spine one vertebra at a time. “You look beautiful in this gown, even more so than I imagined.”
Su Yu closed her eyes, tears silently falling. She could feel You Li’s fingers lingering on her back, the cool breath against her neck, and the shameful reactions of her own body—her skin flushing, her breathing growing rapid, even involuntarily arching her back slightly to meet that touch.
“Look,” You Li’s hand paused at Su Yu’s waist, where the side of the gauze garment was completely open, allowing her fingers to press against the skin without any obstruction. “Your body is more honest than your mouth.”
She lowered her head and kissed Su Yu’s shoulder, right at the edge where the black ribbons intertwined. The kiss was light, yet it struck Su Yu like an electric shock.
The Gu poison erupted completely at that moment. No longer a subtle itch, but a surging tide that instantly swallowed all her reason. Su Yu let out a suppressed whimper, her body completely collapsing into You Li’s embrace, her hands unconsciously gripping You Li’s arms.
“Please…” she uttered that word again, this time more broken, more desperate. “Please…”
You Li did not immediately satisfy her. She simply held Su Yu, allowing her to tremble, gasp, and plead in her embrace. Her gaze fell upon Su Yu, watching the faintly visible skin beneath the black gauze, the blush that rose from arousal, and the once cold and aloof Sheng Nu of Xuan Yu Zong, now dressed in nearly transparent gauze, utterly defeated in her arms.
“Tell me what you want,” You Li’s voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable force.
Su Yu’s reason teetered on the edge of collapse. Shame, desire, and despair intertwined, tearing her apart. She could feel her defenses crumbling, could feel the self called “Su Yu” slowly dissolving, replaced by something more primal, more instinctual.
“I want you…” she finally managed to say the complete words, her voice choked with tears. “You Li… I want you…”
This was the first time she had spoken this name. Not “Qing Li,” not “demoness,” but “You Li.” This realization shattered the last shred of her self-respect.
A complex light flickered in You Li’s eyes—triumph, satisfaction, and perhaps a trace of almost imperceptible pain. She lowered her head and kissed Su Yu’s lips.
This kiss was different from all the others. It was slow, deep, lingering, carrying a sense of declaration. Su Yu did not resist—she was powerless to resist. She opened her mouth to receive the kiss, even beginning to respond clumsily. Her hands wrapped around You Li’s neck, her fingers sinking into the ink-black hair.
The black gauze garments spread out on the stone bed, like two entwined mandrakes blooming in the dark night. The glow of the glass lantern cast a dim, golden halo over them, projecting overlapping, swaying shadows onto the stone walls.
Deep within the dungeon, silence still reigned, broken only by suppressed gasps and faint whimpers, and the occasional clear clinking of chains. The howls from the abyss seemed to fade into the distance, and the sound of dripping water grew indistinct. The entire world shrank to this stone bed, to these two nearly naked women, entangled in a frenzy on the boundary between love and hatred.
When everything subsided, Su Yu lay limp in You Li’s embrace, drenched in sweat, the black gauze clinging tightly to her skin, almost transparent. Her consciousness was scattered, her body still trembling slightly, lingering with the aftermath of the intense reaction.
You Li’s fingers combed through her sweat-dampened hair, the movement as gentle as if handling the most precious treasure.
“Remember this feeling.” She whispered, her lips pressed against Su Yu’s forehead. “Remember how you bloomed in my arms, wearing the clothes I gave you. This is the real you, Su Yu—not that lofty Sheng Nu, but a woman who can crave, tremble, and bloom for me.”
Su Yu did not reply. She no longer had the strength to answer. Her eyes were half-open, gazing at the swaying shadows on the dungeon ceiling, her expression vacant as if her soul had already drifted away from her body.
You Li held her for a long time before finally rising to cover her with the brocade quilt. The black gauze robe peeked out from beneath the blanket like a wound that would never heal, a brand that would never fade.
“Sleep,” You Li said, as usual. “Tomorrow, there will be new clothes.”
As she left, Su Yu saw the mandala tattoo on her back faintly visible beneath the black gauze robe—the mark of the demonic path’s Sheng Nu, identical to the embroidery on Su Yu’s own robe.
The cell door closed, and the dungeon returned to silence.
Su Yu lay on the stone bed, her body beneath the brocade quilt still trembling slightly. She could feel every inch of the gauze robe clinging to her, every sensation You Li had left behind, and the hollow exhaustion after the Gu poison within her had temporarily subsided.
She raised her hand, looking at the black silk ribbons wrapped around her wrist, watching the silver chain gleam coldly in the dim light. Then, she slowly curled up, burying her face in the pillow.
There, You Li’s lingering cold fragrance mixed with her own tears, forming a bitter and desperate scent.
That night, Su Yu did not dream. Or perhaps, she could no longer distinguish dreams from reality. At the edge of her consciousness, she saw only endless darkness and the blood-red mandalas blooming within it.
And she knew that from now on, those would be the only flowers she would ever see.