When You Li appeared again, she brought a new set of clothes.
It was not a variation of the black gauze garment, but something entirely different—still as thin as a cicada’s wing, yet in a moon-white color, reminiscent of the shade of Su Yu’s former sacred robe, but with a completely different texture and design.
“Change into it,” You Li said, placing the garment beside the stone bed, her voice so calm it betrayed no emotion.
Su Yu looked at the moon-white garment, a sense of foreboding rising in her heart. It appeared more “proper” than the black gauze—long sleeves, a flowing hem, covering almost her entire body. But when she touched it, she realized the strangeness of the material—it felt warm and smooth like jade, yet softer than silk, and… it was absorbing the warmth from her fingers.
“What is this?” Su Yu asked.
“Warm Jade Silk.”
You Li replied, her gaze fixed on Su Yu’s face, her blood-red eyes devoid of their usual mockery. “It’s woven from threads of thousand-year cold jade marrow. It warms upon contact with the body, automatically adjusting its temperature to keep you in the most comfortable state.”
It sounded like care. But Su Yu knew that You Li’s “care” was never simple.
Hesitantly, she removed the black gauze garment she had worn for three days.
The new garment clung to her like a second skin, warm and comfortable, indeed more “presentable” than the previous gauze. The sleeves were wide, the hem reached the floor, and the collar neatly covered her collarbone. Apart from the material being overly thin—still faintly revealing the contours of her body under the light—it could almost be considered normal clothing.
But just as Su Yu began to relax, You Li suddenly reached out and pressed her palm against Su Yu’s chest.
It was not a caress, nor a tease, but a firm press—through the Warm Jade Silk, directly over her heart.
“Can you feel it?” You Li asked.
Su Yu froze for a moment, then her face instantly paled.
She felt it.
The temperature of the Warm Jade Silk began to change—not uniformly, but precisely in the area covered by You Li’s palm. The warmth slowly intensified, turning from warm to scalding, like a branding iron pressed against the skin over her heart.
“Ah—” Su Yu instinctively tried to pull back, but You Li’s other hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place.
“This garment is connected to my heart and blood.”
You Li’s voice was soft, as if explaining an interesting toy. “If I am cold, it turns cold; if I am hot, it turns hot; if I feel pain… it will make you share that sensation with me.”
Su Yu clenched her teeth, the searing heat burning through the Warm Jade Silk. But what was more terrifying than the pain was the implication of this design—You Li was establishing a deeper connection, one that went beyond sight, touch, and even Gu poison, a direct sharing of temperature and sensation.
“You’ve discovered a way to resist the Gu poison.”
You Li continued, the temperature of her palm slowly returning to normal but still pressed there. “Very clever, Sister Su Yu. To find a glimmer of your Dao Foundation under the suppression of Love’s Entanglement, and even attempt to transform the power of the Gu poison… I should praise your extraordinary talent.”
There was no anger in her tone, even a hint of admiration. But it was precisely this calm praise that sent a chill to Su Yu’s bones.
“But you forgot, I know you better than you know yourself. I know every one of your weaknesses, every breath you take, what you’re thinking—because a hundred years ago, we were the closest of sisters.”
She released her hand, took a step back, and looked at Su Yu’s unsettled, uncertain face.
“From today onward, you are not allowed to remove this garment,” You Li declared. “It will record your body temperature, heartbeat, spiritual power fluctuations, and even emotional changes. Every time you attempt to mobilize that faint light, I will sense it; every time you transform Gu poison, I will know; every time you… think of Qing Li,” she paused, her crimson eyes unfathomably deep, “I will know as well.”
Su Yu’s heart raced wildly. The Warm Jade Silk faithfully transmitted this intense heartbeat—she could feel the slight pulsation where the fabric clung to her skin, a tangible manifestation of her fear, captured, amplified, and presented to You Li.
“Why… why?” Su Yu’s voice trembled.
“Because I am tired of guessing,” You Li turned, gazing into the swaying shadows deep within the dungeon. “I want to know the real you—not the you who crumbles and pleads for mercy before me, not the you who feigns obedience while secretly resisting, but the truest, most naked you. Every beat of your heart, every tremble, every hope and despair—I must know them all.”
She turned back, a flicker of near-mad obsession flashing in her eyes. “I want you to have nowhere to hide, Su Yu. I want you to be unable to lie to me, even within your own heart.”
This was the true “upgrade” from You Li—not more cruel physical torture, not more humiliating attire, but the complete deprivation of Su Yu’s private inner space. The Warm Jade Silk was not clothing; it was a round-the-clock surveillance device, a sensor that fed every minute physiological and psychological change back to You Li in real time.
“You’re insane…” Su Yu murmured.
“Perhaps,” You Li replied indifferently. “But at least we can finally be honest with each other.”
She walked toward the cell door, pausing briefly before leaving. “By the way, since you enjoy transforming Gu poison, I will adjust the dosage of ‘Love’s Entanglement’—increasing it by ten percent each day. Let your Dao Foundation’s faint light have more ‘nourishment.’ I look forward to seeing whether your Profound Jade True Essence will transform the Gu poison first, or the Gu poison will devour that pitiful light of yours.”
The cell door closed, leaving Su Yu alone in the dungeon, wearing that jade-warm garment more terrifying than any shackle.
She slowly knelt and sat on the ground, wrapping her arms around herself. The Warm Jade Silk automatically adjusted its temperature, always maintaining the most comfortable range, but this “comfort” now felt like a cruel irony—it was like a gentle executioner, offering solace while preparing for the execution.
Su Yu tried to calm her mind, turning her Inner Vision toward her dantian. That faint light still flickered, weak but steadfast. Carefully, she mobilized a wisp of consciousness to approach it, intending to attempt yesterday’s transformation practice.
But the moment her consciousness touched the faint light, a subtle yet distinct palpitation suddenly arose over her heart, where the Warm Jade Silk covered her—as if her heart had been gently squeezed.
It was a warning.
You Li had sensed it. Even though she was not present now, the Warm Jade Silk had transmitted this signal to her.
Su Yu froze. She realized that from now on, every cultivation attempt, every act of resistance, even every memory of Qing Li or thought of a countermeasure, could be detected by You Li. This garment was not just a monitor—it was also an inhibitor. It allowed her to keep that faint light but prevented her from using it freely.
This was true despair: giving you hope, then letting you know that your every move was under the watcher’s gaze, that you could never truly escape.
Su Yu closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The Warm Jade Silk rose and fell with her breathing, its temperature subtly shifting, faithfully recording her anxiety.
But just then, a thought flashed through her mind.
You Li had said that this garment was “connected by heart and blood” to her. When she was cold, the garment turned cold; when she was hot, it turned hot; when she felt pain, it made Su Yu feel the same.
What about the reverse?
If Su Yu deliberately created a strong physical or emotional reaction, would the Warm Jade Silk also transmit this sensation to You Li? If she could control her own heartbeat, body temperature, even her pain threshold…
This idea was insane and dangerous. But Su Yu had no better choice.
She opened her eyes and looked at the black chain on her wrist. Then, she made a decision.
Slowly, she wrapped the black chain once around her wrist and tightened it. The cold metal bit into her skin, bringing a clear sensation of pain. Su Yu did not let go; instead, she continued to exert force until she felt the dull ache of flesh being compressed and blood flow being obstructed.
At the same time, she focused all her attention on sensing any changes in the Warm Jade Silk.
At first, the garment merely tightened slightly in response to her pain, as if expressing “concern.” But gradually, at the position corresponding to her heart, the temperature began to fluctuate abnormally—not simply rising or falling, but in a chaotic, irregular pattern, as if some signal was being interfered with.
There was hope.
Su Yu loosened the silver chain, leaving a clear red mark on her wrist. She observed the reaction of the Warm Jade Silk: the temperature fluctuations at her heart slowly subsided but did not return completely to normal. Instead, they maintained a subtle, unstable state for about ten breaths before finally calming completely.
This proved two things: first, the Warm Jade Silk indeed transmitted her intense sensations to You Li; second, this transmission was not instantaneous or perfect—there was potential for interference and delay.
If she could find the pattern of this transmission, discover a way to interfere, or even find a path for reverse influence…
A light reignited in Su Yu’s eyes. This light was not because hope had grown greater, but because in the depths of despair, she had found a new battlefield—a silent war beneath the skin, among nerve endings, between heartbeat and body temperature.
She lay back on the stone bed, and the Warm Jade Silk automatically adjusted to the most suitable flexibility for lying down. She closed her eyes, no longer attempting to mobilize the Dao Foundation’s faint light, but instead began to focus intently on sensing her own body.
She felt the rhythm of each heartbeat, the speed of blood flow, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, and the subtle fluctuations of hormones within her body as her emotions changed. Like a physician dissecting herself, she calmly and meticulously observed this body—eroded by Gu poison, monitored by clothing, bound by chains.
Then, she began to attempt control.
Not control over spiritual power—that would trigger a warning. But control over those more fundamental, more instinctive things.
She tried to accelerate her heartbeat, not through fear or excitement, but through pure will. At first, it was difficult; the heartbeat had its own rhythm and resisted artificial intervention. But Su Yu patiently tried again and again, imagining herself running, fighting, or… experiencing that complex palpitation when facing You Li.
Gradually, her heartbeat truly began to accelerate. At the chest area of the Warm Jade Silk, the temperature correspondingly rose slightly.
She then tried to slow her heartbeat, imagining herself sinking into the deep sea, her consciousness emptying, all things falling silent. Her heartbeat gradually calmed, and the temperature of the garment returned to normal.
She even attempted to create localized changes in body temperature—imagining her left hand immersed in ice water, her right hand near flames. At first, it was merely imagination, but when she focused intensely, she actually began to feel subtle differences in temperature between her left and right hands. The Warm Jade Silk, in the areas covering her hands, also made corresponding, delicate adjustments.
This was a breakthrough.
If she could precisely control her bodily reactions, she could create false signals at critical moments to interfere with You Li’s monitoring. Moreover, if she understood the connection mechanism between the Warm Jade Silk and You Li well enough, she might even find a way to influence You Li in turn through this connection…
But this idea was too dangerous. You Li was no fool; her understanding of this garment surely far surpassed Su Yu’s. Any obvious anomaly could alert her, even invite stricter control.
Su Yu needed time, needed experiments, needed to gradually uncover the limits of this garment without raising suspicion.
Night fell, and You Li did not return. But Su Yu knew she was somewhere, sensing her presence through the Warm Jade Silk, monitoring her condition.
It was a chilling intimacy—deeper than physical contact, more direct than verbal communication. Through a single garment, they shared the most fundamental physiological signals, inseparable like conjoined twins, yet separated by insurmountable hatred and harm.
Su Yu lay awake in the darkness, feeling the constant warmth of the Warm Jade Silk, feeling her gradually controllable heartbeat.
This war had entered a new dimension. It was no longer simple imprisonment and resistance, no longer brutal torment and broken submission, but a subtle and cruel game played at the nerve endings, in physiological feedback, beneath every inch of skin.
You Li wanted absolute control, absolute transparency.
Su Yu wanted limited resistance, limited freedom.
And what connected them was a garment as gentle as jade, yet deadlier than any weapon.
Deep in the dungeon, water droplets dripped, eternal as ever.
But within that dripping, Su Yu’s heartbeat began to learn a new rhythm—one that quietly varied under surveillance, that grew secretly in despair, an unyielding rhythm.
She knew You Li must have heard this heartbeat too.