Shen Xiyin had imagined many possible punishments for failing to carry out the trial, but she never expected the final outcome to be forced execution.
If there was no escape either way, then why pretend to grant a time limit? Heaven knew how much torment she endured during that waiting period, clinging to the hope of reprieve.
She was certain this insidious, despicable formation was deliberately tormenting them. The ancient inscription on the wall was nothing more than a warning, and the so‑called time limit merely a false grace period. In the end, whether prepared or not, everything would proceed according to its will.
The moment the words “Forced Execution” rang out, the stone chamber began to contract. As the space shrank, those within were inevitably pushed closer together.
Shen Xiyin felt the ground beneath her shifting, sliding her toward Pei Su.
A mortal body could do nothing to resist such power. Panic rose in her chest as she looked to him, desperate for him to stop this absurd scene from unfolding. “Res—Respected Elder!”
Pei Su did indeed intend to intervene. He raised his hand to cast a spell, but then seemed to recall something. His hand fell back, brows furrowed, lips pressed in silence. The distance between them dwindled rapidly. Just before it vanished entirely, he drew his sword and thrust it forward with force.
The blade wedged itself between the two converging walls, holding them apart and carving out a narrow space. That sliver of space gave them both a chance to breathe. Yet the situation was hardly improved. Though the front and back were held apart by his sword, the chamber continued to shrink from above and below, left and right.
His tall, upright figure was forced to lean forward, looming over her. One hand braced against the wall, straining to resist being pushed closer.
Shen Xiyin’s lashes trembled as she looked up at the arms suspended above her head. He had just exerted great strength; his breathing was heavy. The closeness left them no choice but to see each other clearly.
For the first time, Pei Su saw her face at such proximity—fair and luminous, features delicate, lips flushed red, as though parched and pressed together too many times.
Pei Su quickly averted his gaze, reminding himself that she was another man’s wife.
The space between them grew ever smaller, the air ever thinner. Shen Xiyin’s breathing quickened, and inevitably she caught the faint fragrance clinging to his robes. She could not quite describe what it was—like the proud resilience of pine in winter, or the unyielding strength of bamboo in the mountain forest. Cool and austere, yet carrying a hard, upright vigor. Though it seemed a muted, steady scent, it bore an undeniable force, seeping into her lungs and chest with every hurried breath.
As time passed, the chamber shrank further. His neck was pressed down toward her, and the fragrance surrounding him grew sharper, more intense.
Shen Xiyin closed her trembling eyelids, trying to forget it. If she forgot, it would be as though she had never remembered; if she had never remembered, then it had never existed; if it had never existed, then it could not be a sin. But the harder she tried to forget, the deeper it etched itself into memory. Worse still, his breath fell again and again against her ear. She could no longer tell whether the air entering her body was her own—or his. The sensation was unbearable, leaving her long‑ailing body weak and fevered. She was guilty. At that moment, it was as though they were locked inside a narrow cabinet.
Shen Xiyin sensed his resistance, and dared not move at all. Even in such a confined space, his body remained scrupulously proper, keeping the faintest line of distance. It was thanks to the sword wedged between the walls that they retained this last shred of dignity. Yet the wicked formation could not bear to let them endure with ease. Seeing his strength to resist, it pressed down with even greater force.
The sword, thin as a cicada’s wing, bent under the relentless pressure of the two walls. The chamber shrank further, forcing his body against hers. His knee suddenly pressed into the hollow of her skirt.
Shen Xiyin’s head snapped back, eyes wide. That abrupt intrusion was like the swing of a pendulum striking deep into a well, breaking open the long‑hidden waters below—just as her long‑suppressed emotions surged forth, no longer containable. She could not hold back a muffled sound. She felt the breath at her ear pause for three beats.
Then, at once, the formation’s voice rang out beside her— “Congratulations, the two of you have successfully passed the first trial.”
On the road back to Imperial City Mountain, Pei Jun gave little courtesy to the elder, still resentful of Xie Yusheng’s slander that his uncle had fallen into lust.
Caught between them, Pei Ling found himself in an awkward position, sighing repeatedly. One was a renowned elder of the sect, the other a junior with powerful backing—neither could be offended.
During the clan master’s absence, the one handling affairs was his trusted retainer, Pei Daoqian.
The matter of the clan master’s disappearance was not yet confirmed, so the three dared not spread word. They hurried back to Imperial City Mountain and went straight to see Pei Daoqian.
Pei Jun recounted everything in detail: how he and Pei Ling had secretly gone to the desolate southern hills in search of Bloodshade Stone, how they later met Xie Yusheng at the teahouse, and how they learned of his uncle’s missed appointment and disappearance. He described every word and action of the three during that time, fearful of overlooking any clue. Of course, he deliberately omitted Xie Yusheng’s vulgar remark slandering his uncle.
Pei Daoqian listened carefully, then after a moment’s thought said, “Do not be anxious. Allow me to investigate first.” He spoke as he drew from his sleeve a palm‑sized compass.
Seeing this, Pei Ling asked, “Master, are you going to probe the soul?”
Pei Daoqian was exceptionally skilled in divination and calculation; his mastery of this art was profound. Because he was also well‑versed in the classics of many schools and often lectured the younger generation, the Pei clan juniors respectfully addressed him as Master.
The so‑called “soul‑seeking” meant tracing a person’s life‑soul. In the present age, only a handful could wield such a technique, and Pei Daoqian was one of them.
As long as a person lived, they left traces of existence. A cultivator of high attainment could follow those faint threads to discern the presence of a soul still alive in the world.
Xie Yusheng had never before witnessed such a mysterious art. Intrigued, he leaned closer to examine the compass.
The chamber’s doors and windows were tightly shut. After a faint shimmer of light, the compass revealed its result.
Pei Jun could not wait. “What did it show?”
Pei Daoqian did not answer immediately, which made Pei Jun so anxious he nearly lost his wits.
After a long silence, Pei Daoqian slowly opened his eyes and smiled. “Rest assured—the clan master is unharmed.”
At this, everyone in the chamber let out a breath of relief.
Still, Pei Ling remained puzzled. “If the clan master is unharmed, then why would he fail to keep his appointment without reason?”
Pei Daoqian’s upright face still carried a smile, though his tone grew sharper: “How can you be certain it was without cause? Remember, the foremost rule of the Pei family code is to stand with integrity and act with benevolence. All matters have their order of urgency. If at this moment the clan master is devoting his strength to saving a life, how could he spare the time to keep an appointment?”
He stroked his goat‑beard, his voice softening: “Of course, I am only speaking hypothetically. But it is reasonable to imagine that the clan master has encountered some pressing matter and cannot yet free himself.”
Pei Ling lowered his head, murmuring, “This disciple misspoke.”
Pei Jun said, “So long as Uncle is unharmed, that is enough.”
Xie Yusheng added, “It seems it was nothing more than a false alarm.”
Pei Daoqian then stepped forward to offer an apology to Xie Yusheng: “This time it was indeed the Pei clan that was discourteous. When the clan master returns, he will surely give Lord Yuheng a proper explanation.”
Xie Yusheng flicked his fan with easy grace. “That is no matter. Let him repay me instead with a few jars of the finest vintage from your Pei family cellars. But my late master’s memorial is at hand, and I must be on the road. I shall take my leave first.”
Pei Daoqian readily agreed. Seeing that night was already falling, he urged Xie Yusheng to stay and rest until morning before setting out again.
Naturally, he did not forget to punish Pei Jun and Pei Ling for sneaking out of the mountain gate—ordering them to copy scriptures and kneel in penance.
After sending the three away, the study grew quiet again. From the incense burner beside the desk, thin blue smoke curled upward. Pei Daoqian gazed at the compass by his hand, its needle unmoving, his expression grave. Moments earlier, he had attempted to locate the clan master through soul‑seeking, but failed. Either the one he sought had already perished, body and soul extinguished, or else he was in a place beyond the reach of such divination. He certainly did not wish for the first possibility. But what kind of place could conceal a soul from the probe? And why would the clan master go there?
Pei Daoqian sank into deep thought.
Meanwhile, Pei Jun and Pei Ling spent the night kneeling and copying scriptures. By morning, their hands and legs felt no longer their own. Before they could recover, Pei Daoqian summoned them again.
They expected punishment—perhaps confinement for breaking sect rules. Yet, to their surprise, the old man said at once: “This time, you two shall take the clan master’s place and accompany Lord Yuheng to Luoyang.”
“The clan master shared deep ties with his late teacher. For sentiment and propriety, the Pei clan cannot be absent. Ah Jun, you are closest to the clan master; Ah Ling, you are his most trusted disciple. It is fitting that you both go in his stead.”
“Yes.”
“This disciple obeys.”
Receiving the order, the two hurried back to their quarters to pack.
Before their departure, Pei Daoqian gave them paper cranes for communication, instructing: “If you encounter anything beyond your ability to resolve, use the cranes to inform me. Do not act rashly while abroad.”
Pei Jun and Pei Ling accepted the cranes, nodding repeatedly.
After giving his instructions, Pei Daoqian turned to Xie Yusheng: “I must trouble Lord Yuheng to look after our juniors.”
Xie Yusheng smiled, fanning himself. “That is easily done.”
Pei Jun rolled his eyes in disdain, but Pei Ling quickly stepped in front of him to block the gesture, sighing inwardly. When will these days of being caught in the middle ever end?
Pei Daoqian watched the three depart through the mountain gate. The sky was clear and bright, yet he could not shake the sense that a storm was on the horizon.