The Frost Beneath Her Veil - Chapter 20

Parasol flowers and red plum blossoms drifted gracefully through the air. Yin Jiuruo received no verbal answer, but a kiss seemed more beautiful than any spoken promise. Fu Qing’s breath was soft, warm, and sweet—intoxicating and comforting.

This was likely the most festive New Year Yin Jiuruo had experienced since transmigrating. Had there been such a New Year before? She couldn’t quite remember. She was the type of person who preferred to hide her bitterness and bury her pain; in common terms, she was “blissfully ignorant.” If life was already this bitter, what was the use in dwelling on it?

So, in the past, she simply chose not to think. By not thinking, it didn’t hurt as much. Being flayed and bled daily wasn’t “bitter,” it was just a moment of pain. Being forced to wander and sleep in the wild wasn’t “bitter,” it was just exposure to the elements. Being called a stray or a freak meant nothing; she truly had no parents here and couldn’t remember their faces anyway.

In the past, she stood alone, her shadow her only companion. Now she had friends, a master, and a lover; naturally, there was no bitterness left. Perhaps this was what they called “the sweetness after the bitter.” She had sought wealth and cultivation in the past, but never dared to ask for completion or happiness. For a lonely soul to seek worldly kinship and love seemed too ethereal, a gross overestimation of one’s worth. Now, it was almost within reach; she only hoped it wasn’t a dream.

Seeing Yin Jiuruo smile one moment and frown the next, Fu Qing didn’t bother to ask more. As if completing a set of steps, she brought the girl back to her room.

“Our marriage is a matter between the two of us. However, I am Daoist Sovereign Changfan of the Canglan Sect. Once we form a bond, every major sect in the Nine Provinces will come to congratulate us. It is no small matter.”

Looking at the calm, serene woman, Yin Jiuruo unconsciously touched the dark red spiderweb patterns around her eyes and nodded solemnly. “Xiao Jiu understands. I will work hard at my cultivation.”

Though she knew her talent was poor and no amount of effort would bring her to Fu Qing’s heights, it would be a tragedy to simply give up.

“Mhm. How is your zither practice?”

“I have studied new scores and can now infuse spiritual energy into the music.” Yin Jiuruo summoned the Bixie zither and sat cross-legged to play. Her profile was clean and translucent, carrying the air of a celestial being.

“After we marry, you will be the Young Lord of Hexue Peak. You should have a Daoist title to appear formal,” Fu Qing said, brushing a parasol flower from her sleeve as if flicking away a speck of dust.

“I leave the title to Master’s choice.”

Fu Qing looked at the Bixie zither glowing faintly in Yin Jiuruo’s hands. Knowing the object shared a destiny with her, she said plainly, “You share a bond with Bixie. How about the title ‘Young Lord Bixie’?”

“Young Lord Bixie,” the corners of Yin Jiuruo’s pale lips lifted in a happy smile. “Master, I like it very much.”

“As long as Xiao Jiu likes it.”

After a while, Yin Jiuruo put away the zither. Fu Qing ordered the mechanical penguin to bring the maps of Hexue Peak, teaching her hand-to-hand how to arrange celestial arrays and renovate the gardens. For the wedding, Hexue Peak needed a new look.

The penguin also brought a large plate of golden Autumn Moon pears. “Venerable One, these are fruits sent by the Little Master’s senior sister, Chong You.”

Yin Jiuruo’s eyes lit up, and she took a pear. “I will go thank Senior Sister in person in a few days.”

“Once we marry, there will be much to do. It is best if you stay by my side,” Fu Qing said with a solemn expression, appearing truly worried about the workload.

“Alright, Master. Then… will we stay together all the time?” Yin Jiuruo’s eyes were bright.

“Mhm,” Fu Qing continued with a smile. “If you like mountain lotuses, we can dig ponds below the Dew Platform. We can channel the spiritual water from the highest peak of Jixing Mountain to create waterfalls and springs.”

“How did Master know I like mountain lotuses?” Yin Jiuruo’s peach-blossom eyes widened. She had only flipped through a book on exotic plants a few times and thought it was beautiful how mountain lotuses became transparent when wet.

Fu Qing’s red lips curved slightly, hiding the complex look in her eyes. “You live here on Hexue Peak; what could I possibly not know?”

Yin Jiuruo nodded and began peeling the pear, feeling a bit shy.

“In three months, once your injuries are healed, we will go to the divine mountain of Wuyang. We will establish the True Marriage Law beside the Marriage Stone.”

The Marriage Stone on Mount Wuyang was a spiritual stone birthed by heaven and earth at the dawn of time. When cultivators who wished to become Dao companions made their vows there, the True Marriage Law would be forged. The two would live and die together; if the vow was broken, heaven and earth would not tolerate them.

After the snowy white, juicy pear meat was peeled, Yin Jiuruo handed it to Fu Qing.

“Xiao Jiu, I cannot eat so much. Help me eat half,” Fu Qing said, setting down the map. Her phoenix eyes were slightly raised, clear and alluring.

“But Master, pears shouldn’t be shared.”

“Why?”

“Because ‘sharing a pear’ sounds like ‘separation,'” Yin Jiuruo bit her lip, feeling she was being a bit childish.

Fu Qing paused for a breath. She couldn’t remember how many times she had heard this, and she sighed inwardly at how Yin Jiuruo never changed. Her smile remained tender, and her voice soft. “Fine.”

The sects of the Nine Provinces, knowing Fu Qing was to wed, sent a steady stream of precious gifts over the next few months. Celestial medicines and divine artifacts were a given, but even rare mortal items, regardless of quality, were sent.

A very clear bronze mirror was placed in Linyue Residence. Yin Jiuruo stood before it, straightening her robes, her face unable to hide her joy. The person in the mirror wore a moon-white jade robe with a dragon-patterned belt, looking fresh, ethereal, and free. Only the spiderweb-like markings around her eyes marred the beauty, giving off a gloomy, eerie vibe.

She knew she wasn’t beautiful; she could even be called terrifying. Back in Peach Blossom Town, everyone said her eyes were too dark and deep, like the man-eating monsters of legends. As for those markings, they whispered behind her back that she must have committed some heinous crime in a past life to be cursed with such a face now.

Most people in the world found her loathsome. She didn’t care, but she worried that during the wedding, the guests from the various sects would find her unworthy of Fu Qing. Damaging her own reputation was a small matter, but damaging Fu Qing’s was a great concern.

Yin Jiuruo left Linyue Residence with heavy thoughts, flying her zither toward the ocean behind Jixing Mountain. For some reason, marine debris had increased recently, and the water quality had dropped. The sects had to send disciples to clean it and nourish the water with spiritual energy. Since coming to Canglan Sect, she often spent time by this ocean beachcombing and scraping barnacles, so she had taken on this task happily.

As dusk settled, the trees on Jixing Mountain were lush, and the late night was lonely and cold. Yin Jiuruo wore her bangs long to hide the markings around her eyes. But she had heard that after marriage, her hair would be bound in a jade crown, leaving nothing to hide behind. She walked slowly along the mountain path, occasionally touching the jade pendant in her sleeve, feeling warmth in her heart.

Not far away, two figures—one tall, one short—approached. As they drew near, she saw it was the Young Master of the Ruyi Sect, Shen Cangli. Yin Jiuruo, carrying her zither and dressed in a sky-blue outer robe, performed a formal bow.

“Young Master, it has been a long time.”

“Who would have thought,” Shen Cangli sighed deeply. “When we first met in Peach Blossom Town, you were but a useless mortal. After ten years of imprisonment, you’ve become the Young Lord Bixie of Hexue Peak. One truly must see a person in a new light after a short absence.”

Hearing the underlying meaning in Shen Cangli’s words, Yin Jiuruo didn’t want to linger. “You overstate it, Young Master.”

Shen Cangli studied Yin Jiuruo seriously and gave a soft, mocking laugh. “Fu Qing has certainly sacrificed much for the sake of the Nine Provinces, actually condescending to marry you.”

“What do you mean?” Yin Jiuruo looked up sharply, a cold light flashing in her deep pupils.

“Hideously ugly and with pitifully low cultivation. If I were you, I would have found a pillar to bash my head against long ago, rather than a toad dreaming of eating swan meat,” the servant beside Shen Cangli sneered.

“Shut up. How can you be so rude to Young Lord Bixie?” Shen Cangli scolded insincerely, though the smile on her lips widened.

Just then, a crane boy flew from afar, landing beside Yin Jiuruo and presenting a dagger as sharp as cold jade.

“Little Master, the Venerable One requires a vial of blood from the tip of your left index finger. It is needed for the ceremony at the Marriage Stone tomorrow.”

“It’s for tomorrow; why is it needed today?” Yin Jiuruo took the dagger, pricked her fingertip, and let the blood drip into the jade vial. The crane boy didn’t answer, and Shen Cangli watched the scene with a smile.

Half a minute later, the vial was full. The crane boy took it and flew away once more.

In the inner chamber of the Abandoned Firmament Hall, the ever-burning lamps flickered brightly. The crane boy entered respectfully. The blood in the jade neck vial was still warm. Fu Qing accepted it with a calm face, her slender phoenix eyes cold and deep.

The Sect Leader and several elders stood by with solemn expressions, questioning her: “Venerable One, are you certain that this time, by using that creature Yin Jiuruo, we can successfully seal the demonic energy of the Outer Lands?”

“Indeed.”

“In that case, marrying her is already an insult to you. Tomorrow, when you perform the True Marriage Law, you might as well use an illusion to fake the bond. There is no need for you to suffer the punishment of the Marriage Stone for the sake of a mere wretch.”

“Quite right. This move is to exterminate the demonic energy; there is no need to sacrifice yourself to that extent.”

Fu Qing looked at Yin Jiuruo’s blood in the vial, her eyes like clear frost. “Naturally, I will not be forming a marriage bond with her.”

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