Inside the Enchantment Maze, the chime announcing a successful clearance plunged the two people pressed against the narrow stone walls into endless silence.
That silence carried a strange, awkward tension. The walls on all sides, though no longer pushing them closer after the sound, still left so little space that neither could move. They were forced to remain in the same position.
Shen Xiyin’s body felt unbearably uncomfortable. She couldn’t even describe the sensation—something like needing relief, yet not quite that, only a suffocating, humiliating pressure. She fought hard to endure it, staying utterly still, unwilling to let the man beside her notice her distress at such a mortifying moment.
Fortunately, Pei Su’s attention was not on her. He raised his hand to probe upward, searching the stone wall for a mechanism that might release them from their predicament. But that movement made his knee, wedged against the folds of her skirt, brush upward again and again. In such a cramped space, it was unavoidable.
Shen Xiyin pressed her lips tightly together, her fingers digging into the stone wall until her nails nearly broke. She made no sound, yet her uneven, trembling breaths betrayed her.
Pei Su’s hand paused mid-search. After a moment, he calmly resumed, reaching higher. Before long, he found a hidden mechanism at the top of the wall and pushed it firmly. In an instant, the stone walls that had confined them dissolved into drifting sand before their eyes.
After so long, sunlight finally reached Shen Xiyin’s pale irises.
They stepped out of the stone chamber into a vast forest that stretched beyond sight. Once their bodies were free to move, both retreated a few paces.
Shen Xiyin’s legs felt weak; she nearly collapsed onto the damp forest floor. Forcing herself upright, she turned aside, breathing silently.
Pei Su shifted his back toward her, wordless. Only after a long pause did he finally speak: “Madam Xu, might I borrow a moment to speak with you?”
Shen Xiyin steadied her breath and answered softly, “Very well.”
They walked beneath a patch of shade, standing opposite each other with two or three steps between them. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering dappled shadows across their figures, while the wind stirred the treetops with a gentle rustling.
Pei Su said, “You must have heard it too—the prompt just now mentioned the words ‘first trial.’”
Shen Xiyin gave a slight nod.
“Earlier, when you asked me what an evil formation was, I held back, mindful of the difference in our stations. At the time, I still believed this array could be broken. But now its life gate has been sealed, and it can no longer be undone by proper means. At this point, there is no reason for me to conceal the truth from you.” Pei Su’s voice sank, solemn and grave. “What I am about to say may be discourteous. I ask Madam Xu’s pardon.”
Shen Xiyin moistened her dry lips. “All right…”
“As you have seen, the Enchantment Maze is a corrupt formation that forces men and women through trials of intimacy. What we just experienced was called a ‘trial of passion.’ Within this array, there are forty-nine such trials in all. If nothing changes, each one will only grow more excessive.”
Thinking of the uncontrollable scenes from before, Shen Xiyin’s forehead broke out in a fine sweat. She pressed her lips together, silent for a long while, before whispering, “Excessive to what extent?”
“Intercourse,” Pei Su answered bluntly.
Shen Xiyin’s body recoiled at the word. Spoken in such a matter-of-fact tone, it felt all the more mortifying.
Pei Su continued, “I do not wish for it to come to that. I believe you feel the same.”
“Yes,” Shen Xiyin replied.
“Every formation requires spiritual power to activate. The Enchantment Maze consumes vast amounts of it during each trial, and that power takes time to recover. Thus, before the second trial is triggered, there is a buffer.” Pei Su’s voice was steady. “I will use this time to seek another way out.”
“Good.” Shen Xiyin’s hand, hidden in her sleeve, quietly clenched. There was something she longed to say, though she wasn’t sure she should. She did not understand the profound principles of the mystic arts, and to speak of them felt presumptuous—but she still wished to do something.
Her lips pressed together again and again before she finally gathered the courage to ask, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She had braced herself for silence, but to her surprise, he answered with certainty.
“There is.”
That single word made Shen Xiyin’s heart race. A sudden thrill rose within her—the kind of joy a small, insignificant person feels when she realizes she might be of use. A faint blush spread across her cheeks.
But the next moment Pei Su’s cool voice cut in: “Stay away from me.”
Shen Xiyin froze. The blush drained from her face. After a long pause, she replied softly, “All right.”
Perhaps sensing the harshness of his words, Pei Su added, “I mean no offense.”
“I understand,” Shen Xiyin murmured.
Maybe keeping their distance would spare them from being forced into unspeakable acts together.
Pei Su said nothing more. Leaving only a curt “Farewell,” he turned and departed.
Shen Xiyin stood where she was, watching his figure recede until it vanished into the depths of the forest. Perhaps he would soon find a way to break the formation. If so, they would never have to meet again. That would be the best outcome.
Yet in the vast forest, she suddenly found herself alone. An emptiness welled up inside her—and soon she realized her stomach was empty too.
Since entering the Enchantment Maze, a long time had passed. Earlier, the formation had tormented her body and mind, leaving no room to notice. Now that she had relaxed, hunger struck her with full force. She still didn’t know whether this forest was real or an illusion conjured by the array.
But a mortal body cannot endure hunger for long. Whatever the truth, she had to find food first. Otherwise, before Pei Su unraveled the formation, she might starve to death.
Shen Xiyin silently steeled herself and stepped into the forest—heading, of course, in the opposite direction from Pei Su. She had once lived at the foot of the mountain, making her living by gathering spiritual herbs. Because of that, she knew very well what in the woods could be eaten and what must never be touched. For instance, the mushroom blooming at her feet looked plump and delicious, but the heap of grayish insect corpses scattered around it told another story. Clearly, it had poisoned many unsuspecting little creatures. Best not to lay a hand on it. Her luck held. After walking only a short while, she came upon a fruit tree. She had seen this kind before in the mountains. She had never bothered to learn its name, but she knew the fruit was edible. The flesh was dry, the taste sour and astringent—so unpleasant that in ordinary years no one would bother to pick it. Only in times of famine did people resort to it.
Unpalatable though it was, it could fill the belly. In her present situation, she had no right to be choosy. Having something to eat at all was already a blessing. The tree, however, was tall, and the fruit hung well out of reach. But that was no problem. Shen Xiyin was well‑practiced in solving such small inconveniences. She circled the area and soon found several stones sturdy enough to stack beneath her feet. She briskly rolled up the long sleeves of her ornate gown and reached out to move a stone. Huffing and puffing, she dragged one into place, then measured the height with her hand—still not enough. So she went back for a second. But hunger had drained her strength; her arms could no longer lift it. No matter. If her hands failed, she still had her feet.
Gathering up the folds of her elaborate skirt, Shen Xiyin nudged the stone bit by bit toward the fruit tree. Then, using both hands and feet, she managed to stack the two stones together. Standing atop her makeshift platform, she successfully picked a bundle of fruit into her skirt. It was enough to feed her for several meals.
With food secured, Shen Xiyin turned her mind to water. She tore a strip of excess decorative fabric from her gown to wrap the fruit. Once bundled, she slung the cloth bag of wild fruit over her back and made her way toward the lower ground of the forest.
Low‑lying terrain was more likely to gather water. After walking for about half an hour, she came upon a grove of bamboo. Bamboo thrived in damp soil; there might be water nearby.
Shen Xiyin stopped and listened closely. She thought she could hear the murmur of a spring. Following the sound, she soon discovered a clear, sparkling brook.
Shen Xiyin set down the cloth bundle of fruit and ran to the stream. She washed her face with the clear water. Crystal droplets slid down her pale cheeks, breaking apart the slender reflection in the rippling surface. The icy water washed away some of the strange heat that had been building in her body. She felt much better, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. Still, her clothes clung damply to her skin, especially beneath her gown. She raised her hand to undo the hidden clasp at her collar. At once the tight neckline loosened, and even her breathing grew easier. Xu Yanxing had prepared this ornate robe for her. It was cumbersome to wear, and the size was slightly too small, pressing uncomfortably against her chest. Now, loosened, it felt blissfully light.
In the stream, a few lively fish darted about, and snails nestled in the cracks between stones. If only she could make a fire, she might enjoy a fuller meal that evening. But she had no fire striker.
Since daylight remained, Shen Xiyin tried the old method of drilling wood for fire. She sharpened a wooden stake with a sharp stone and rubbed it against another piece of wood, rubbing until her palms turned red—yet not a single spark appeared. She had no idea what she was doing wrong.
At that moment, she wished more than anything that she could be like the mystics, able to summon a flame at her fingertips with a single incantation. Had she known, she would have swallowed her pride and asked that elder for a spark before he left. She thought it, but in truth, she was far too timid to trouble others.
Lost in thought, listening to the gentle murmur of the stream, Shen Xiyin lay back on the grass and slowly closed her eyes. She must have been exhausted, for when she woke, dawn had already broken.
Everything around her was unchanged; she was still trapped within the Enchantment Maze. Yet she was grateful—no prompt had sounded to announce another trial. She washed herself simply with the stream water, then resolved to search the forest again for something useful. After wandering for about half an hour, she unexpectedly came face‑to‑face with Pei Su.
For a moment, they both stood in silence. Before he could react, Shen Xiyin turned and walked quickly in the opposite direction. She never forgot: keep your distance from him.