The Jieyang Curse was stubborn and prone to relapse; if it flared again, it had to be dispelled at once.
Pei Su lingered by the ancient tree until deep into the night, only leaving once he was certain the curse on her body showed no signs of returning.
The night stretched on, hushed and endless.
When Shen Xiyin stirred from her stupor, dawn’s first light was already breaking. She slowly opened her hazy eyes, memories of what had happened before she fainted flashing back. Lowering her gaze, she looked down at herself. Her sash was tied neatly at her waist, her silk stockings still in place, embroidered shoes properly worn. Yet the knot on her sash was tied in a way unlike her usual habit, and a strange ache lingered low in her belly. Beneath it, the sticky discomfort of something dried reminded her of yesterday’s rain-soaked chaos and humiliation. She stared blankly at the campfire that had only recently burned out. After a long pause, she pressed her parched lips together and rose to find water.
Under the tender glow of morning, the dense forest seemed veiled in a gauzy crimson mist. Retracing the familiar path toward the stream, she noticed the forest trails had subtly changed. Where once there was no end in sight, a new passage now stretched forward.
Curious, Shen Xiyin followed it—only to meet Pei Su coming from the opposite direction. Though she knew that within the Enchantment Maze, their paths were bound to cross again, she had told herself many times to face it calmly. Yet when it truly happened, she realized how difficult that was. At the very first sight of him, her thighs trembled involuntarily—just as they had in that storm.
Pei Su halted when he saw her approaching. At this moment, he ought to explain something. “Last night…”
“I understand.” Shen Xiyin cut him off before he could finish, as if afraid he might bring up things that would shame them both. She said she understood—but what exactly did she mean? In truth, everything was already clear without words. Her abrupt interruption carried a hint of concealment, as though trying to cover up what it only served to remind them of.
Shen Xiyin lowered her head, pressing her lips tightly together. She could feel her strength, lost during that long, relentless pressing, gradually return. And so she largely understood what he had meant by “I was saving you.” Any further explanation would only drag them back into recalling the scene itself, serving no purpose at all. She had intended to avoid such awkwardness, yet the atmosphere only grew more delicate.
Pei Su looked at her tightly pressed lips, and it seemed to him that silent accusations circled in the air—
You touched her.
You made her body respond in ways it never had before.
Can you truly say you feel no guilt for what you did?
His hand, the one that had dispelled the curse, clenched suddenly, then loosened again. The answer was simple—thinking too much was useless. In the matter of saving her, his conscience was clear.
Pei Su’s attention returned to the newly opened path before them.
This passage had appeared only that morning. With the second trial of the maze completed, the barrier set within the forest had dissolved.
Step by step, Shen Xiyin followed behind him, walking toward the road ahead. After walking for more than a quarter of an hour, the tangled forest floor gave way to a slope overgrown with wild grass. Once they crossed the rise, the view opened wide—an expansive plain ringed by distant mountains, and in the middle of it, a cluster of houses seemed to stand.
After being trapped in the dense woods for days, the sight of a village felt almost like another lifetime. Shen Xiyin was startled, then delighted; the corners of her lips lifted faintly. But soon she sensed something was wrong. It was the hour for breakfast, yet no smoke rose from the chimneys of those houses. The surrounding fields were nothing but weeds, hardly the look of a place where people lived. She lifted her gaze toward Pei Su and saw his expression grave, not the least bit relaxed. Slowly, she understood—this was still within the maze.
Pei Su noticed her glance and turned slightly aside, his voice calm: “I’ll go ahead and take a look. You… do as you please.”
Hearing him speak to her, Shen Xiyin was taken aback for a moment, realizing he likely disliked being followed. She nodded lightly. “Alright.”
As he headed toward the distant mountains, Shen Xiyin turned her steps toward the village instead.
It was a small village, seemingly abandoned long ago. Wild grass grew taller than a man before the mud‑brick houses, moss and cobwebs clung to the corners of the walls, and the gates and fences were broken and rotting. The air carried a sour stench of decayed wood. The silence was uncanny—only the faint chirping of insects could be heard, with not a trace of human presence.
Shen Xiyin wandered through the village, circling it once before finding a small house that was still relatively intact. She decided to stay there for the time being. After all, a roof overhead was better than sleeping exposed in the forest. She pushed open the wooden door, and a choking cloud of dust rushed out to meet her. Covering her nose, she coughed lightly, then lifted her gaze to take in the surroundings.
The pale morning light streamed through cracks in the window lattice, illuminating the drifting motes of dust. Inside were a table, chairs, a bed, and even a stove for cooking—better than she could have hoped. Beside the stove lay a fire‑starter stone, and in the cupboard, a few leftover candles. Though old, they still looked usable.
The walls had patches where the plaster had peeled away, revealing the straw‑mixed clay beneath. The roof let in a bit of wind, but with some tidying, it would do. None of it was a serious problem.
Rolling up her long sleeves and tying back her ornate gown, Shen Xiyin set to work.
When Pei Su returned from scouting the distant mountains, he entered the village to find her bent over the roof, repairing the tiles. He had no idea where she had found a wooden ladder, but she had climbed up and was carefully filling the leaks with broken bricks and mud. At noon, the sun blazed overhead. Sweat beaded along her brow and neck, gathering into droplets that dampened her collar. Her chest rose and fell with her breath, shifting the fabric with each motion. That very collar had once been stained with his sweat as well.
Pei Su pressed his fingers lightly to his brow. She remained absorbed in her work, unaware of the smear of mud across her pale neck. To him, that stark, unsightly mark seemed all the more jarring.
When she finally finished patching the roof, Shen Xiyin lifted her sleeve to wipe the sweat clinging to her lashes. Her lips parted slightly as she exhaled a long breath. She gathered up the leftover bricks and mud, then steadied herself on the wooden ladder as she climbed down from the roof. The old, weathered ladder creaked under her weight. The blazing midday sun made her vision swim, and her foot faltered—sending the ladder tilting sideways with a harsh, grating sound that nearly threw her off. Her eyes flew wide in shock, but before she could react, a long, slender hand reached forward and gripped the ladder firmly. The sweep of his dark sleeve brushed against the rotting beam, stirring a faint cloud of dust.
Shen Xiyin’s heart gave a violent jolt when she recognized that hand. She dared not look at it too closely, as though even the sight of it might summon back unwelcome memories. Flustered, she lowered her head—only for her gaze to collide with his upturned eyes. She quickly averted her gaze and murmured softly, “Thank you.”
The scorching sun pressed down, the earth shimmering with invisible waves of heat, and the air seemed to pulse with a hidden, unsettling current.
Pei Su’s reply was spare, almost curt: “No need.”
Once her feet were firmly on the ground, he released the ladder and turned away.
Shen Xiyin watched his retreating figure for a moment, then thought no more of it, returning to tidy the house she would sleep in that night. She felt the sticky dampness between her thighs and frowned, pressing her lips together. After that storm, her strength had returned—but the affliction in her body had only grown worse. It was like a parched soul who, after tasting a single drop of water, craved more—more of that sweetness, more of the relief that quenched the thirst. But she knew there was no cure for this discomfort except endurance.
Pei Su leaned against the wall of a distant house, lost in thought. He had just scouted the area carefully and was nearly certain: the Enchantment Maze was built of linked barriers. With each trial completed, one barrier dissolved. Only when all the barriers here were gone would they finally reconnect with the outside world and escape this cursed place. As he pondered how to proceed, he caught sight of Madam Xu carrying a bucket toward the old well. Her frame was slight, yet she moved with surprising strength, though her body had only just recovered. He suddenly recalled the heavy calluses on her hands—hands that had never belonged to a pampered lady. She seemed to notice him too. Her steps faltered briefly, then she hurried on.
Night fell, the blazing sun sinking behind the western mountains, leaving the sky streaked with red.
At the stove, Shen Xiyin boiled water. With soap pods gathered from the forest, she washed away the sweat and stickiness in a hidden corner of the courtyard. When she shed her clothes, she finally saw the marks left on her legs—the distinct imprints of fingers, each one betraying the force of his grip.
Shen Xiyin let out a startled cry, shame flooding her as she squeezed her eyes shut. She scrubbed herself in haste, then fled back inside the house.
But a cultivator’s hearing was keen. That cry carried clearly through the walls to Pei Su’s ears. His brows knit tightly.
And at that very moment, the third trial’s prompt sounded.
He had thought, as before, they would have a few days’ respite. Yet this time the trial came swiftly, catching them unprepared.
When Shen Xiyin heard the prompt, her body trembled again and again. How could they be forced into such a thing? She could not bear it.