The Frost Beneath Her Veil - Chapter 15

Although the Jixing Mountains, where the Canglan Sect was situated, were covered in perpetual snow, the Abandoned Firmament Hall was nourished by spiritual energy. The surrounding mountains were lush with trees, mist flowed like liquid jade, and the waters and woods were bright and clear.

The hall was packed with people. Chong You knelt down to plead for Yin Jiuruo:

“Venerable One, Sect Master, Junior Sister Jiuruo was clearly away. How could she have stolen the sect’s treasure and murdered the guarding disciples?”

“Chong You, step back,” the Sect Leader said sternly, stroking his long white beard. “The Mirror of Illumination was set by the elders and me. It discerns the beginning and end of all things and sees through the truth of demons and heretics. Last night, it captured Jiuruo committing the crime in the Library Pavilion. Today, she must be taken into custody.”

Several elders turned their eyes in unison toward Yin Jiuruo, who stood in the center of the hall. “Kneel!”

An oppressive pressure struck her. Yin Jiuruo’s cultivation was not profound enough, and the consequence of her forced resistance was a backlash. Her internal organs felt as if they were burning, and her head throbbed with a splitting pain.

“I was still in Peach Blossom Town yesterday. How could I have committed the crime?” She gritted her teeth, defending herself.

Gouyu, standing by Fu Qing’s side, also spoke up at the right moment: “It’s true. Senior Sister left Hexue Peak a few days ago; I can testify to that.”

Shen Cangli, who accompanied Fu Qing, wore a faint, mocking smile. Watching this scene, she felt immensely gratified. “Can anyone prove you stayed in Peach Blossom Town the entire time?”

The Sect Leader’s voice was like rolling thunder, making Yin Jiuruo’s internal organs bleed. She managed to say:

“My friend, Suige, can prove it.”

“In that case, we shall send someone to gather evidence,” the Sect Leader glanced at Fu Qing. Seeing that Daoist Sovereign Changfan remained in her snowy white robes with a solemn expression and no intention of intervening, he grew bolder. “But since your suspicion has not been cleared, you must be detained under the Gamo Heart Tower before your innocence is proven.”

The Gamo Heart Tower was the disciplinary tower of the Canglan Sect for disciples who had committed grave offenses. Inside the tower, the power of thunder and lightning acted like a whip, incessantly lashing the soul of anyone within. At best, one would be injured and unconscious; at worst, the spirit would be extinguished, the bones shattered, cultivation would regress, or one’s life would be in danger.

“Master, you cannot!” Chong You and the other disciples knelt in unison. “Please just detain Junior Sister Jiuruo in a regular prison.”

Unexpectedly, Yin Jiuruo was quite popular. The Sect Leader hesitated for a long time before declaring loudly:

“The Mirror of Illumination showed the culprit has high cultivation and is protected by a magical treasure. If we do not detain her in the disciplinary tower, how can we rest easy?”

“Master,” Chong You said, her face full of worry, about to plead further. The Sect Leader shifted the conversation, addressing Fu Qing, who had remained calm throughout.

“Venerable One, do you believe it is acceptable to temporarily detain Jiuruo in the disciplinary tower?”

Fu Qing cast a cold glance at the kneeling Yin Jiuruo. “Yes.”

The two disciples, as if receiving a divine decree, immediately stepped forward to seize Yin Jiuruo and drag her away. Nearby, Gouyu wanted to plead but was intimidated by Fu Qing’s current indifference and did not dare step forward.

The Sect Leader offered a lukewarm consolation: “If you are innocent, you will naturally be released.”

Breaking free from her restraints, Yin Jiuruo looked up at the graceful and celestial woman at the highest seat and asked:

“Does Master also believe that Xiao Jiu harmed her fellow disciples and is beyond forgiveness?”

The young girl’s forceful questioning left everyone in the hall silent. Fu Qing flicked her sleeve and said from her high position:

“This Sovereign only believes in evidence.”

The Gamo Heart Tower—though called a tower, it was actually a waterway deep underground. Streaks of purple lightning flickered through the pale blue seawater.

The two guards locked Yin Jiuruo in a cell, putting her in handcuffs and shackles. They used seven Spirit-Sunder Nails to pin her to the tower’s central pillar, locking her soul and tempering her heart. Afterward, the water-repelling barrier vanished instantly. She could only rely on her cultivation to struggle for oxygen.

The sensation of suffocation and the pain of lightning hacking at her soul struck simultaneously. It wasn’t sharp, but rather a slow torture, like a dull knife cutting flesh. The crackling sound of electricity hitting her bones echoed in her ears.

Yin Jiuruo had always felt her defensive power was strong. Although injuries hurt her more than average, her vitality was tenacious; she simply wouldn’t die. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have survived being flayed and bled in the past. To put it bluntly, she was cursed with a long life of suffering.

Drowning was unbearable. Frequently, she felt as if a wet cloth were covering her nose and mouth—a near-death sensation where she couldn’t breathe. She had to use all her cultivation to resist. As for the damage the lightning caused to her soul and bones, she was truly powerless.

The Heart Tower was like a deep ocean, cutting her off from the world. Having stayed there for too long, she could barely even recall Fu Qing’s features, leaving only a blur of indifferent white. It was as if she were about to fade from existence.

At some point, the cold tide receded. Yin Jiuruo’s green robes were in tatters. As she woke groggily, she tasted something warm and sweet on her lips. A soft, crimson tongue tip, condensing spiritual energy, slowly channeled it into her heart meridians, healing her shattered bones and rebuilding her veins.

“Mas… Master,” Yin Jiuruo vaguely saw the woman with her hair loose and skin like jade. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Do not speak. Do not be distracted during dual cultivation,” Fu Qing leaned in, her soft lips blocking all of Yin Jiuruo’s questions.

Skin touched skin, and souls merged.

But deep in Yin Jiuruo’s heart, a profound doubt remained. Why… why do this? Approaching then retreating, hot then cold, unpredictable—she didn’t understand. She truly didn’t understand. Her eyes felt sore; she felt like a small toy being manipulated by someone else, rolling around in a dusty corner, bedraggled and ignorant.

Finally, in the spiritual sea, Yin Jiuruo hugged Fu Qing’s waist tightly for the first time. She held the woman so firmly that Fu Qing had to breathe rapidly, letting out a soft, delicate moan.

“Xiao Jiu, this Sovereign will drive in the Spirit-Sunder Nails,” Fu Qing’s eyes were deep, filled with a myriad of emotions. “If anyone else did it, this Sovereign would not be at ease.”

Not at ease?

Not at ease about what? Yin Jiuruo was intoxicated by the soft touch of Fu Qing’s lips. She watched as the woman frowned, showing a pained and tender expression. Her slender, pale fingertips held a three-inch-long dark gold nail, gently piercing the center of Yin Jiuruo’s left wrist.

Four nails were driven into her wrists and ankles. Yin Jiuruo couldn’t withstand the overwhelming pain, causing both her and Fu Qing to fall to their knees together while embracing.

Fu Qing’s robes today were as thin as a layer of gauze. Her skin was soft and delicate, pressing against Yin Jiuruo with almost no barrier.

“Xiao Jiu, just a little more,” Fu Qing’s voice was hoarse. Her face was like vermilion jade, her coldness replaced by an even greater allure.

Yin Jiuruo noticed that Fu Qing’s pupils were shimmering with a moist, crimson tide, as if she herself couldn’t bear the pain and was shedding physiological tears.

“Master, are you afraid I’ll hurt too much?”

As the nail entered her brow, blood flowed like a thread down Yin Jiuruo’s forehead. Fu Qing’s expression remained detached, but her crimson lips pressed against the wound.

“Mhm.”

Hearing the woman’s soft, cold sound that made one’s heart itch, Yin Jiuruo lowered her eyes and took a deep breath, noticing the woman’s robes had partially slipped off. Because her skin was so delicate, the kneeling posture caused faint, unsightly bruises to appear on her legs.

They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes flowing like the lingering waters of autumn.

Thinking of the dark dungeon in that painting, how similar was it to this scene?

Countless questions surged forth. Yin Jiuruo whispered into Fu Qing’s ear, “Master, did we know each other before?”

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