The Frost Beneath Her Veil - Chapter 14

For a full ten seconds, Yin Jiuruo kept her head lowered. The joyous anticipation that had filled her heart moments ago froze, turning into something stagnant and foul like rotting wood—a sensation so sickening it bred loathing.

Seeing no objection from Yin Jiuruo, Shen Cangli clapped her on the shoulder happily. “I knew Changfan took in a good disciple. Changfan and I have wanted to see the mechanical exhibition for a long time; I really must thank you for this.”

“We shall head to the exhibition first then,” Shen Cangli said, radiant as she opened the door for Fu Qing.

Fu Qing set aside her ancient text. Her dark hair was coiled high, adorned with the jasper hairpin Shen Cangli had gifted her. She walked out slowly, without sparing a single glance for Yin Jiuruo.

As the two departed on their flying swords under the clear sky, Shen Cangli looked at Fu Qing with concern. “Confused she already is; is fear the next step?”

“Indeed,” Fu Qing replied briefly, her brow furrowed.

“That ugly creature truly feels deeply for you. The more I see it, the more disgusted I feel. I feel aggrieved on your behalf…”

Hexue Peak was covered in white, its branches laden with jade-like snow. The bright sky cast a brilliant light across the day. Yin Jiuruo watched the figures in the distance grow smaller and smaller, her face devoid of expression.

At that moment, a crane boy brought a bowl of steaming celestial dew. “Little Master, this is the celestial dew the Venerable One prepared for you. Seven parts honey have been added. Please drink it before you leave.”

Honeyed celestial dew. Fu Qing had said Yin Jiuruo’s constitution was weak, so she was to have a bowl every night before bed to cleanse impurities and nourish her heart meridians.

Looking at the sweet, fragrant liquid, Yin Jiuruo’s feelings were a tangled mess.

It was true. Fu Qing’s kindness toward her was always measured. The Daoist Sovereign’s mood always came first, the common people first, the Canglan Sect first… and Shen Cangli first.

Losing the heart to say individual goodbyes to her fellow disciples, Yin Jiuruo sent them messages via sound transmission tubes to inform them of her itinerary and flew directly toward Peach Blossom Town on her zither.

Traveling by zither was fast. Despite the distance of ten thousand miles, she arrived in half a day.

The town was as bustling as ever. It seemed the previous chaos caused by the Demon Lord had left no mark at all. People went about their business, seemingly unremarkable, yet living lives full of flavor.

She went to see the penguins and peacocks she had adopted, watching them eat through a window. She thought of the mechanical animals Fu Qing had crafted. At least the mechanical penguin looked quite similar to the real one before her.

When the madam of the Feiling Pavilion saw her, she flashed the same smile as before.

“You little heartless thing. You left without a word back then and didn’t send a single message. Your Mother here missed you to death.”

Yin Jiuruo could already see Suige behind the madam. She was dressed in black martial attire, looking more like an assassin than a top courtesan.

“The performance just now was a sword dance,” Suige explained, sensing Yin Jiuruo’s thoughts.

She led Yin Jiuruo to the seventh floor, to the same old room where the decor remained unchanged. The two sat down, and a few bright red fruits were placed on the table. Yin Jiuruo leaned against the window, the sunlight caressing her pale face and crowning her with a soft halo.

“Suige, I received your letter a few months late. I hope it didn’t delay anything important?”

“How are you and Feng Qi doing now?” Suige asked instead of answering, staring straight at Yin Jiuruo.

“Everyone in the sect is very good. My senior brothers and sisters are especially kind.” Yin Jiuruo thought of how they had comforted her and sent medicine when she was injured during a sparring match. “They all protect me quite well.”

Seeing the light in Yin Jiuruo’s eyes, Suige knew she wasn’t lying. “And that cold master of yours? How does she treat you?”

Yin Jiuruo gazed at the icicles beneath the eaves, just as she used to. The crystalline snow sparkled brilliantly.

“She is wonderful,” she said softly. “She treats me very well.”

Tugging at the corner of her sleeve, Suige asked hesitantly, “Your master… could she have known you from before?”

Yin Jiuruo looked up in surprise. “Why do you ask that?”

A sheet of fine Xuan paper was placed on the table and unfurled. The painting depicted a woman of celestial beauty with her hair tied in a high bun, wearing a magnificent black cloak and ornate jade ornaments. She stood with immense nobility before a prison cell made of vajra steel.

The beauty bore a resemblance to Fu Qing. In the dimly lit cell, chains bound a prisoner covered in blood.

“Don’t you think the prisoner’s face looks a bit like yours?”

Yin Jiuruo stared fixedly at the prison in the painting. The disheveled long hair and the beautiful face were obscured by filth, and the body was covered in whip marks. There were no dark red patterns around the eyes, which allowed her to breathe a sigh of relief.

“A little bit. We are both very thin. Where did you get this painting?”

“I saw it by chance in a storybook. Because Daoist Sovereign Changfan’s appearance is so unforgettable, I took a few extra looks.”

Yin Jiuruo fell into a long silence before speaking slowly. “Perhaps it is just a coincidence. Master has practiced for many years and traveled everywhere to slay demons; the whole world knows her. It’s normal for mortal painters to use her as a model for their work.”

“Your master is indeed very famous. Even in our small town, she has several fan clubs who carve monuments and write biographies for her every day.”

“Give me this painting,” Yin Jiuruo said, unable to feel at ease.

“What are you going to do?” Suige looked at her warily. “Don’t go doing something stupid on your own.”

At that moment, the madam knocked and brought in a spread of food and wine, then smilingly left them to themselves, quickly closing the door.

“I have seven days of leave. Let’s go look for the place in the painting. If we really can’t find a lead, I… I will ask Master myself.”

“The place in the painting is long gone. It was a small nation called the State of Jiang. With the passage of time, how could any trace remain? You should just ask your master directly.”

“I see,” Yin Jiuruo said, feeling a bit dejected. Though she knew that things in storybooks were mostly fabricated, she was a person with amnesia. Could it be that she and Fu Qing shared a past she was kept in the dark about?

Seeing this, Suige poured a cup of water for Yin Jiuruo and considerately changed the subject. “I am leaving tomorrow.”

Yin Jiuruo immediately looked up, her slender brows furrowed. “Leaving? Where to? Didn’t you end up at the Feiling Pavilion because you were homeless?”

“You certainly remember my affairs clearly; I am so happy,” Suige said, covering her face with a fan. A seductive smile appeared on her lips, her eyes rippling with emotion. “But this time, I have found the way home, so naturally I must leave Peach Blossom Town.”

Yin Jiuruo remembered that Suige had arrived in town on a night when the snow had just stopped. The first time Yin Jiuruo met her, she was scraping barnacles when a person drifted over from the sea. Afterward, Suige entered the Feiling Pavilion alone, selling her art but not her body, and met with Yin Jiuruo and Feng Qi once a week. It was a relationship that was intense but not warm—close, yet never fully intimate.

“Will you be scammed?” Yin Jiuruo asked seriously, resting her chin in her hand.

Pinching Yin Jiuruo’s snowy, smooth cheek, Suige gave a cold laugh. “As if I’m as stupid as you? For all I know, you’ll be sold by someone and still help them count the money. Go sleep next door; wake up early tomorrow to see me off.”

Pushed into another room by the courtesan without further discussion, Yin Jiuruo bathed and burned incense. Following the soul cultivation method Fu Qing had taught her, she breathed in the brilliance of heaven and earth to absorb spiritual energy, trying her best not to think about the painting.

Unexpectedly, as she practiced until dawn, an irresistible wave of sleepiness washed over her. she collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, unconscious slumber.

When she finally woke up, she was jolted awake by the vibration of her sect’s sound transmission tube. Senior Sister Chong You, Feng Qi, and other fellow disciples had all sent her messages. They all said something had happened and urged her to return to the sect immediately.

By now, two days had passed. Shocked that she had slept for so long, she went to knock on Suige’s door, only to be told she had left a day ago.

A sense of unease continued to spread. Feeling the vibration of the transmission tube, Yin Jiuruo decided to return to the sect first and then decide on her next move. It would be better to just ask Master about the painting directly.

Just as she had when she arrived, she traveled by zither and returned to the Canglan Sect in half a day.

As soon as she landed at the mountain gate, two disciples she didn’t recognize seized her from both sides and escorted her to the Abandoned Firmament Hall.

Still in a daze, she looked up to see the white-robed Daoist Sovereign sitting at the head of the hall. Her face was like frost as she said coldly:

“Xiao Jiu, kneel.”

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